"Bee! Race you!" Jagged Rock called.
"I don't know....Mama said to stay close," Bumble Bee meowed, glancing around nervously.
"You're only saying that 'cause you know I'll beat ya!" Jagged Rock peeped in a teasing tone.
"You will not!" Bumble Bee retorted.
"Wanna bet?"
"Hey!"
"Catch me if you can--Slowpoke!" Jagged Rock shot forward.
Bumble Bee followed him in hot pursuit. She was the youngest of the littler of four, and Jagged Rock was the oldest. Her sister, Fire Bird was the second oldest and her other brother was second-to-last. Bee's legs were shorter, and her muscles smaller, but she was determined.
Bee pressed forward, flanking her older brother. Finally, she took the lead. Pride swelled in her chest and burned her cheeks. She pushed herself hard, running as fast as she could. Soon, she was several yards ahead of her older brother.
But, her lungs were smaller than Jag's. She slowed bit by bit as her brother sped up to the front, leaving her lagging behind. As she puffed onward, a slight smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She wasn't doing this to win or to be able to brag. She was doing this for fun. She could lose and still have fun.
She picked up speed, happy and carefree. She heard the wind whistle in her ears and felt it press back her whiskers. She felt the soft soil churn beneath her paws. She was happy.
Finally, she skidded to a stop just after Jag. Bee laughed contentedly. "That was fun!" she exclaimed, still giggling.
"I won! I won! I won! I beat you, slowpoke!" Jagged Rock gloated.
Bee purred. "You won this time, but I bet that next time it'll be me in the lead!"
"Well--" Jag broke off, eyes widened. "Who...."
A large black and white tom bushed his way through the thorny branches of a bramble bush and switched his sharp, pricing gaze on the kittens standing at the roots of the Big Oak. His ear twitched, a slight smirk spreading across his face, revealing curved, ivory-white cruel teeth.
Bee was trembling. "W--who are you?" she stammered meekly.
"I, young kit, am the warrior of the Blood-Flames. That's right. Tremble before me!" the cat hissed in a snake-like way.
Jag, recovered from his shock, bravely stepped forward and meowed in a powerful voice, "You don't scare me! I will never tremble at your paws like a pained mouse!"
The warrior of the Blood-Flames turned his head to face the young back and white kit, unsheathing his claws and showing his teeth. Her stepped forward until he was almost touching the nose of poor Jag. "Those are strong words for such a small, powerless kit."
Jagged Rock stood wordlessly staring at the huge tom that stood threateningly close to him. Then took a single step back, jaws slightly parted in fear.
The cat laughed, "That's right! Fear me!Tremble and flee!" Then he ran into the trees, tail brushing the grass beneath him.
Still fearful, the kits stood huddled at the roots of the Big Oak.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
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