You were a BloodClan cat. You didn’t live in a cozy forest like the other Clans — or a cosy warm house like the kitty eats— you lived in the city, just beyond the Clans forest. Well, not the shiny part with the tall glass buildings. You lived deep down in the old, dry sewers, packed in with the rest of your “clan.” It stank like wet stone and rats, but honestly, it was home.

You were one of the strongest, toughest warriors around, and everyone knew it. You weren’t just another face in the crowd — you were respected, maybe even a little feared. In BloodClan, respect was everything. No one got anything by being soft. The leaders were clear: Scourge, the Clan leader, was the toughest, scariest cat you’d ever seen, small and young, but deadly. A purple collar spiked with dog teeth and other animals teeth he’d killed. Then there was Bone, second in command, who looked like he could crush your skull with one swipe if you messed up. He also had a collar spiked with dog teeth— a green one. And Brick, one of the biggest guards, who basically looked like a wall with fur— he had a light-blue collar spiked with dog and cat teeth.

Today was just like any other day: Cats lounged around the sewer, their claws flashing when small fights broke out over scraps of old food. The guards stayed posted at the entrances, keeping their sharp eyes out for trouble. And Scourge? He was sitting way up high on his platform like a king, watching everything with his icy, no-mercy stare. You could tell he missed nothing.