The Survivors/Forgotten

## Prologue

There was something similar to a warm, sweet scent in the air. A peaceful beginning, ending tragically, and resulting in something...different. Not quite what one would expect.

The queen, a rogue to be specific, lay with her young litter nestled at her belly, her blue eyes full of warmth and pride. Someone unexpected from her typical nature, but the warmth only exploded into something more as her eyes rested on an approaching figure. A rumble echoed in the silver tabby's throat, forming into a purr as the colorpoint tom lowered his head to affectionately bump it against hers. In his mouth was a single rat, a lovely surprise for his hungering lover. "For you, my dear Ysolt..." He spoke smoothly, resting it at the queen's paws before taking a step back, looking at her expectingly. She flashed him a brief smile before lowering her head to eat, blue eyes darting up to meet his once more.

"Thank you, love." After giving him her thanks, Ysolt returned her focus to her meal, sinking her unrelenting fangs into the carcass. The tom took a few steps back to give his typically sour-tempered mate some space, watching her thouroughly. His coat, attractive with its dark and warm colors, was laced with scars from terrifying battles. He was a powerful tom, with muscle rippling under his coat as he stood at a slight-above average height. His mate, the lovely Ysolt, on the other hand, stood at a towering height on long legs. She was the swiftest cat he'd ever seen, and the only to defeat him in battle.

*How they met is a matter for another time.*

*This is a story of their kittens...*

...*But I suppose we can start from the very beginning.*

As she finished her meal, she returned her attention to her kits, doting upon them with a soft voice. The colorpoint mate leaned in closer, his soft chest fur gently brushing against Ysolt's rough fur.

"They're beautiful, Ysolt...they'll be strong and wonderul cats, I can promise. We'll raise them well...and they'll live very, very happy lives."

*...and if only he could keep that promise.*

## Chapter 1

The rough-coated silver tabby crept through the undergrowth, her eyes on the prey. It was a squirrel, oblivious to Ysolt's slowly and patiently approaching form. Finally...a good meal! Her body tensed, her haunches wiggled, but right before she could spring, there was a flurry of fur. What was this?!

It was a rich-chocolate tom with a gradiant pelt. He had sloppily dove forward to scoop up the squirrel and kill it for his own. An angry snarl rippled through Ysolt's throat as she glowered at the tom, who was clearly struggling. Could he not hunt to save his own skin? It appeared as if he and the squirrel were getting into a big tussle...and the squirrel was clearly winning. After what felt like forever, the colorpoint tom finally managed to pin the squirrel, and with a satisfying crunch, ended its life.

Clearly, the pointed fool had not noticed the silver tabby molly.

With an angry screech, Ysolt launched herself at the tom before he could pick up the squirrel and waltz off with it. Claws outstretched, she took him to the ground with her claws hooked around his surprisingly powerful shoulders. He was stronger than he had appeared from the distance. Could this whole 'squirrel-wrestling' thing have just been a set-up?

"Prey-stealer!" The silver tabby snarled at the tom, who snarled up at her in response. He couldn't hide the shocked twinkle in his eyes; perhaps he hadn't detected her at all? Regardless, that squirrel was Ysolt's, fair and square! She laid eyes on it first, code of the rogues! When she seemed to be getting the upper-hand, he suddenly reversed things on her, burying her face into the dirt as he pinned her, placing a single paw on her head.

"Prey-stealer? She-cat, your insane! Should've listened to my big brother when he said mollies were nothin' but trouble." The colorpoint tom replied with a small scoff and a roll of his bright blue eyes. She squirmed under his grasp, but refused to show her full strength yet. She made her struggles purposely weak, so he could relax a little. And when he did...

Ysolt exploded upwards, shaking the tom off before whipping around to face him with bared fangs. "Yeah, prey-stealer! I saw that squirrel first, and right before I pounced, you tried to take it! And, by the stars, it nearly killed *you*, I swear!" She spoke in a harsh and relentless tone, face screwed up in anger while her ears remained pinned against her skull. Muscles flexed under her ruffled fur, and the tom quickly looked her over with a swift motion of his eyes.

Hm...she was pretty. Pretty strong, that was...and kinda scary. But still, he found her quite attractive. With a sudden motion, the tom seated himself and began to lick his paw, catching Ysolt off-guard. What? He had to look his best for a pretty lady! Even if her coat wasn't...the cleanest. She tensed up, as if disgusted by his actions, which surprised him. "What're you doing?! Get up and fight me!" She shouted at him with edge in her voice, hackles raising out of irritation.

"By all means, miss, I'm only being a gentletom. Have to look my best in front of a pretty, don't I?" He attempted to flash her a charming grin, but he was taken by surprise. With a disgusted look, Ysolt swatted him across the face, screeching in his ears.

"I can't be bought, stupid tom! My prey, it's *mine*, go away!" She danced a ways from him, bouncing lightly on her heavy paws as she waited for a counter move. All she wanted was a fight, eh?

Rubbing his paw over his ears, he looked at her only briefly. "Take it, then. I don't care...I'd beat you, anyways. You seem like a she-cat with a lot of pride, so I don't want to hurt that." The colorpoint gave a small shrug before returning his focus on his grooming. "And my name isn't 'stupid tom' or 'prey-stealer'...it's Kekoa. How 'bout you, what's your name?"

She didn't bother to introduce herself, she just swiped the prey up and walked a small distance away from him, her hard glare remaining on the tom all the meanwhile. After a while, Ysolt turned her back on him and began to walk off, when he suddenly leaped on her.

"But since you won't give me your name, I guess I'll have to fight you for it." He gave a wide, almost friendly grin before rolling with the she-cat, intending on a swift victory.

But he was wrong.

And he was definitely taken by surprise.

Of all fights, *this* had to be the one he lost! Never before had Kekoa lost a battle, no matter the opponent(s). Ysolt eventually wrestled him to the ground, pinning him underneath her cruel, unsheathed claws. She snarled down at him, teeth bared as he glanced at her in shock and awe. Did she actually plan on...ending him? Over her *name*?

"I'm surprised, you're quite strong, miss. I've never actually lost before." He spoke with a small scoff, but he couldn't remove that smile plastered on his face.

"Quit chattering, so I can kill you once and get it over with." The silver tabby hissed at him, sinking her claws further into his chest and making him flinch in alarm. Yet, still he grinned.

"Are you sure? I mean, I'd love to chat with you more...and not get killed by you. I-I mean, you might be a bit rude, but..." Kekoa awkwardly trailed off, searching his mind hastily for something to say. "...you have, er, potential? I'd like to get to know you, become friends! You know what friends are, right?"

She suddenly released the tom, and forcefully shoved him away. "Go away, thief. You're too pitiful to kill." She screwed up her face in disgust before spitting on the ground, and walking off. But, he skittered in front of her again.

"That's a yes?"

"What?"

"To becoming friends! C'mon...!!"

She scoffed at him in annoyance and began to walk away once more. But then, she paused. "...Fine. Only if it'll get you out of my fur."

Ysolt, as grumpy and merciless as she may be, wasn't one for breaking promises. She talked with him as promised, but it wasn't like she enjoyed it. Kekoa was a complete chatterbox, with his horrible jokes and flirtatious attempts. But, he was quick to learn that there was only one way to win over Ysolt's trust:

Sparring.

He was quick to regret it, at least at first. She seemed to enjoy using him as her...'scratching post', to take out her daily ton of anger. But if it could open her up...well, Kekoa saw it as 'worth it' in the end.

It was another day they were hanging out, sparring once more. And, once more, she had managed to pin him to the ground, claws digging into his chest as her sides heaved from effort. She was exhuasted. Him? Well, Kekoa wasn't trying all that hard...he knew he'd lose to her anyways. He felt like something was keeping him from beating her...likely attraction, or just Ysolt's brute force in general. At that moment, as the tired she-cat glare down at the cool and collected tom, his eyes met her.

"...Angry she-cat?"

"What?" Her voice cam sharp and snappish in response. But he didn't flinch like the others: he was used to it, and he accepted it. Whatever made her happy, he supposed.

"...Will you ever tell me your name?"

"No." She let him up without hesitation, already turning away and strutting off from the tom. In turn, the colorpoint frowned at her, sitting there patiently. Suddenly, he grinned and raced ahead of her, turning around to face the she-cat.

"Please?" He asked while batting his eyes at her with a goofy expression. "Otherwise, I'll just have to keep following you around like a lost dog pup. I mean, not like I won't do that, regardless..."

"Fine! It's Ysolt. My name is Ysolt. Happy now?" The silver tabby snapped at him without hesitation, turning and stomping off. He kept smiling at her all the meanwhile.

"...That's a beautiful name, very lovely. Ysolt...I love it. Strong, too, like yourself."

She suddenly hesitated in her path. Why did Kekoa always hang around? Ok, yeah, he thought she was pretty, despite her ragged and not-very-well groomed coat. But her rude behavior always drove the others off. But...why not him? So, Ysolt turned, and in a surprisingly calm tone, she asked him. "Why won't you ever go away?"

"Because I like you, Ysolt. I like how independent you are." He responded quietly, almost submissively as he cast her a single bashful glance. "I want to be your friend."

They didn't stay as 'friends' for long. His dumb charm just...stuck with her. Besides, Kekoa didn't treat Ysolt like the other toms did. He happily let her hunt on her own, rather than forcing her to stay in the alley (where they had made their home together) while he hunted. They worked as a pair, like a machine in perfect harmony.

And before long, they added four bundles of fluffy fur into their lives.

## Chapter 2

He never really had an 'official' name.

Ysolt liked the name 'Swamp', and declared that was what they'd name their firstborn son. Kekoa, on the other hand, preferred something a bit...less mucky, and said they'd call him 'Gator'. So, after a ton of arguing, they agreed that they'd call him both, and let the kitten decide when he got older.

But, he liked both, so he went with both anyways.

Swamp was born first, then Sicily, then Enero, and then finally Shore. With a long chuckle, he claimed that he was relieved when they finally had a daughter. He thought that four young toms would be far too much of a handful...he also joked that someone needed to be lady-like, seeing that Ysolt had clearly refused.

"Look, mom, dad's back!" Swamp called over his shoulder as he broke away from his wrestling brothers, while Shore clambered up a trashcan. The little tabby pointed tomkit darted over to Kekoa, who let out a hearty laugh as his son attempted to crash into him.

"My, you're getting tall, Gator. You'll be snatching the prey right out of my jaws before we know it." He rumbled through the fur of the freshly killed squirrel, hopping over his son and approaching Ysolt with a low purr. Swamp beamed and darted after his colorpoint father, moving with a happy gait. His father was right: he was the biggest out of the entire litter! Ysolt greeted her mate with an affectionate bump against the forehead. Her voice was brimmed with love, although she could not hide the concern and seriousness in her eyes.

"Everything alright outside of our home, dear?" She also spoke lowly, as if attempting to make her voice undetected by her kittens. The others didn't, but Swamp did. At once, he pushed his ears forward out of curiosity, although he innocently shuffled away from them.

"Uh-uh...everything's so-so." Kekoa replied hastily before lowering his voice, but once more, Swamp could overhear them. "...We'll speak of matters later, at a more...private time, dear." The adults quickly leaned away, and returned to cheekily smiling at their kittens. Shore, Sicily, and Enero were oblivious to it all, but Swamp knew it all. He couldn't fall for simple tricks. He attempted to shuffle after his parents to eavesdrop, but he was immediately caught as Ysoltstar cast him a glare over her shoulder.

"This is private adult time, Swamp. Go on: go play with your brothers." The silver tabby spoke firmly before truding off after Kekoa, hidden from view and earshot of the kittens. Swamp scoffed under his breath before returning to his wrestling brothers. Sicily sent him a wide grin.

"You know what that means, Swampy. We'll have siblings within the next few moons." He let out a crude cackle before Enero swat him one over the head.

"You gross-minded fool! Something's up, something isn't right here." The broad-chested Enero responded through a narrowed gaze, glaring at where his parents had disappeared and spoke in soft, concerned whispers. From up on the trashcan, Shore snickered down at her brothers.

"Besides, mom and dad got me, and I'm a daughter, so they won't want anymore kittens. They just wanted a daughter, cause you three toms are insane." Shore replied with a sarcastic smirk as she situated herself up on the metal bin.

"You're right," Swamp suddenly grinned just as widely as she did before continuing, "after having to experience you, I don't think mom and dad would ever want another kit. You're enough of a handful, Shore."

With a playful growl, the tabby launched down at her brother and began to roll with him. "Take it back, Swamp!" She playfully nipped at his hind legs and batted at his face with her large, fluffy paws.

"Or else what, Shore?!" Swamp hollared back at her, cautiously smacking her with his own paws, although he was sure to keep his paws away from her eyes. Didn't want to blind her from a playful kit-fight.

"Or else I'll make you eat dirt!" It wasn't long before Enero and Sicily joined in, and, after a kick, Swamp was accidentally separated from the playfight. He rolled into the shadow of where his parents spoke behind an alley wall, undetected by the pair of adults. Curious, he silently lay there, pricking his ears to hear them better.

"-...twolegs, Kekoa, they're twolegs! We can't risk having them near our kittens, especially if they're as strange as you say they are. Taking up loners? They never do that!"

"Easy Ysolt, and keep it down, or they'll hear you. I mean, kits gotta experience twolegs at some point, right? Everyone gets pet by them once or twice, when we aren't expecting it..."

"This isn't 'petting', Kekoa, you said it yourself. Those twolegs are *kidnapping* cats. We're moving, and that's final." Ysolt's voice cam harsh and stern, as if she was speaking to her litter rather than her mate. At the sound of their movement, Swamp scrambled away to pretend he hadn't been eavesdropping. Heartbeats later, Ysolt came around the corner with an irritated expression.

"Kits, we're mov-"

"Please, please, someone help me!!" A skittish and terrified wiry white she-cat came sprinting into the family's alleyway, causing Ysolt to jump up and hiss in alarm. Kekoa, meanwhile, kept his cool and approached his mate's side with a concerned expression.

"Who're you? What's going on?" The colorpoint asked the strange white cat, who's eyes were round with fear.

"My kittens, they've taken my kittens!" The white she-cat gasped, struggling to breath. After taking in a few deep breaths, she continued, while Ysolt protectively stood over Shore, Enero, Sicily, and Swamp. "M-My name Reina, I'm a queen and I live just a few streets down...the twolegs took m-my kittens!"

Alarm glistened in the eyes of both Ysolt and Kekoa, while Swamp and his siblings exchanged anxious glances. "I can help you," Kekoa offered while taking a small step forward. "I've seen where they've taken cats. The twolegs live in a strange and ominous building, just outside of town. I can take you there tomorrow." He offered before looking back at his mate. Reina, gasping in relief, nodded vigorously.

"Oh, thank you, thank you so much!" Reina purred before looking over Ysolt's litter. The silver tabby queen let out a threatening snarl with a curl of her lip. Kekoa glanced back at his lover, nuzzling her head gently.

"I'll be back, Ysolt, I promise. Stay here with the kits, keep them safe. Once I get back tomorrow in the late evening, we can get ready to move."

Ysolt paced anxiously that night as her kits were tucked away safely, sleeping soundly. He still wasn't back. What if he *didn't* come back?

The answer was easy: she'd go find him.

They were mates, an inseparable pair, they had to stick and work together. They had a troublesome litter to raise together, after all.

But thankfully, he returned, and Ysolt had never seen him so terrified.

"We're moving. Now."

## Chapter 3

Swamp and his littermates never understood why they moved; their parents refused to tell them. Although, the kittens could easily assume that it had something to do with those twolegs thier parents so frequently spoke about in concerned whispers.

Thankfully, their new home was peaceful, and away from the bustling and dangerous city. The family now lived in the forest, where dapples of warm sunlight were painted on their coats every morning, and the prey was plentiful. Kekoa and Ysolt were starting to regret not moving their earlier. It was an adjustment for the kittens, but they loved it still.

Kekoa never said if he saved Reina's kittens or not.

They never prodded him. It all seemed far too shocking and painful for him to recall what he saw. He explained most of it to Ysolt, but refused to shed light onto the topic with his kits.

But they weren't young kittens anymore.

At five moons of age, Ysolt and Kekoa had begun to train them. Shore was a phenominal swimmer and huntress, while Sicily could work his tongue until every cat could bend to his every will and desire. Enero was a powerful fighter regardless of his slow moves...they could still pack a real punch. As for Swamp? Ysolt and Kekoa had never seen a cat so fast and so talented at battle.

And they didn't say that just because he was their son.

"Gator, get back here!" Shore was hollaring after Swamp as he dashed away, his sister's triumphant catch hanging in his jaws. He grinned back at her playfully, skillfully weaving between trees and bracken. "That was my catch, you crazy furball!"

"Gonna have to catch me for it!" He called back at her, stretching his powerful legs even further, dying to improve, to push his limits. Unfortunately, he wasn't watching where he was going, and hit his father like a bullet.

Kekoa had the wind knocked right out of his chest, and fell dramatically on his back. Swamp stared down at his father in shock, while Shore skidded to a halt beside him. Curiously, she prodded their father.

"Dear stars, did you *kill* him? Stupid oaf..." Sicily and Enero approached as well, ears perked curiously. Swamp prodded Kekoa with a paw, and the colorpoint tom suddenly lurched to his paws, wrestling all his kittens near.

"You four can't escape from me *that* easily!" With a hearty laugh, Kekoa dragged his sons and daughter to the ground, initiating a play-fight.

Everyone froze when Ysolt approached.

Eyeing them, she asked in a stern voice, "what're you five doing? Shouldn't you be *hunting*?"

"Shouldn't you not be so up-tight, mom?" Sicily retorted with a toss of his head, only to be viciously tackled by his mother.

Once again, another play fight broke out within the family.

It was like that almost every day: unreal peace. Of course, something so great and so heart-warming could never last forever...

...but it was best that they enjoyed it while they could. They spent about another moon living their life like this, living the sweet life in the morning, and training vigorously at night. Swamp and Enero, of all, took it the most seriously. Sicily enjoyed goofing off, while Shore preferred to stick to hunting training and working on sneaking up on her opponents. Ysolt focused on training her two eager sons, while Kekoa frequently took Shore on hunting trips. As for Sicily...well, he went where he wanted to.

Which meant, of course, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was a very social cat, and was set on trying to make some friends, even if it meant sneaking off and going against his parents' word. Sicily, although young (and obviously very foolish), was quite the romanticizer. He enjoyed charming young she-cats around his whopping age of six moons. Recently, he had met a city lady named Flora, a rather flirtatious tortoiseshell five moons older than Sicily himself.

It was another one of those nights where his siblings were focused on hard training. Sicily had slinked off to meet with Flora in the city, where they'd walk the streets together and examine the city lights. Pretty romantic, eh? He spent a lovely evening with her, but it ended painfully: she admitted that Sicily wasn't the only one she was seeing. No, the pathetic tortoiseshell was seeing four other toms. Great.

Heartbroken and angered, Sicily left the city and began to make his way home. However, a screech rang in his ear, and the loud sounds of twolegs. He was near his family's former home, in fact, it was just across the street. Curious, Sicily stalked into the alley where he heard the cat screeching, and found it trapped. He was a tom, quite young with a black and white coat fluffed out in terror. Surrounding the tom stuck in the cage were three strange looking twolegs, with a sleeping Monster. When the funny-dressed twolegs came his way, Sicily hid himself behind a dumpster, watching in silence as they put the trapped tom in the Monster, and drove off. And then, it hit Sicily:

They were going to the place that Kekoa had gone to save Reina's kittens.

Fueled by fright, Sicily bolted from his hiding spot and began to sprint towards home.

And little did he know, the strange twolegs were following him.

He ran the entire way, his round with terror. His siblings were asleep, although his angry parents were still awake, waiting for their son to come home. They were none-too happy to see him when he sprinted to their paws, panting. "

"M-Mom, the twolegs...! Th-The twolegs that dad went to find....! I found them, in the city, they trapped a cat an-and put him in a Monster!" He gasped, collapsing at Ysolt and Kekoa's paws pathetically, sides rising and falling rapidly. The adults exchanged shocked looks, but before they could respond, the twolegs burst through the undergrowth.

Ysolt and Kekoa jumped to their paws and immediately waked Swamp, Shore, and Enero, demanding that they scatter. They did so immediately, but it was too late for Sicily. He screeched in agony and terror as the twoleg grabbed him harshly by the scruff, only to shove him into a crate. At once, Kekoa darted away with the remaining three youngsters, while Ysolt attacked the twoleg who had gotten Sicily.

But, her efforts were in vain. She was darted because the twolegs didn't want to risk getting hurt by grabbing the vicious animal. So, they put her sleeping form in another crate, and split up to find Kekoa and the three remaining kittens.

Desperately, Kekoa tried to find suitable hiding spots for his kittens. He shoved fluffy Enero in a bush, and hid Shore up in a tree. Last, there was Swamp, who was a sobbing wreck and fearing the worst for his mother. "Stay strong, Gator. W-We'll all be fine...be a tough tom. If I don't come back, look after Enero and Shore." Kekoa murmured to his son as he gently nuzzled his forehead. Up in a hole in a tree, he hid Swamp.

"D-Daddy, don't go! What if the twoleg comes to take Enero or Shore? What if I never see you again? O-Or if I never see momma, or Sicily, or--!"

"Then know that we love you, and we'll always be with you. Forever and ever, son." Giving Swamp on last final lick on the forehead, Kekoa leaped down from the tree to say goodbye to Shore and Enero. "And don't you ever come out of those hiding spots, unless you're spotted." But it was too late for him. The twolegs found him and threw him in a crate, finding Enero as well. Shore tried to escape, but the grabbed and squeezed the squirming she-cat who let out a pained cry. A swell of anger and an urge to protect grew in Swamp's chest, an he snarled in rage.

"Don't hurt her!" With the twoleg's head exposed right beneath his tree, Swamp leaped forward with his claws unsheathed. He landed on the twoleg's head, his claws sinking into flesh. He lashed out at whatever he could: twoleg fur, skin, even the eyes. Whatever to free his sister!

The twoleg finally grabbed him by the scruff and threw him against the tree, his entire body screaming with agony. Swamp struggled, but the bloodied twoleg got him anyways.

...They got *all* of them.

...and then, the fading began.