dancing with a snake[C]

Run Rabbit, Run

Most of the kits had learnt not to mess with her, not unless they wanted a few bites in their ear and bugs in their nests. Creamkit prouded herself on the fact that most of her denmates would not meet her gaze when she enterred the den, or argue with her when she declared herself leader during games. It was only natural, of course, that they would accept her as the best of them all; she had shown them her prowress, hadn't she? If stuffing their faces into dirt wasn't a better indication that she was clearly superior to them in strength, she didn't know what was. Today, however, she was feeling a bit mean. Some kits had refused to play mossball with her-- imagine, refusing her, as if her offer to join them hadn't been a blessing in itself-- and now she had nothing to do. Being a kit was so boring, she couldn't imagine how she would have to stay a kit for a few more moons before she could even dream of leaving this stuffy camp. She was more than ready to be an apprentice, so what was holding her back? Maybe if she proved she could tackle someone apprentice-sized, she could convince Tigerstar to make her an apprentice early. Her gaze landed on a particular kit, and a malicious light lit up her pale green eyes. Creamkit dropped into a crouch, bracing herself, before hurling herself onto the larger she-kit with a shriek, "Die, ShadowClanner!"