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A dark-furred tom watched carefully through narrowed yellow eyes as two young kits play-fight in the snow, each trying to beat the other. They show the true strength and fight of a BrookClan cat, but something about them is special. He thought, swishing his tail. "Darkheart?" The tom spun around and met Brightstar's bright amber eyes. "What are you doing up here? You should be down there sorting patrols," He watched her stalk away, her ginger pelt bristling. He narrowed his eyes. Why should I care?
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n11:abstract
A dark-furred tom watched carefully through narrowed yellow eyes as two young kits play-fight in the snow, each trying to beat the other. They show the true strength and fight of a BrookClan cat, but something about them is special. He thought, swishing his tail. "Darkheart?" The tom spun around and met Brightstar's bright amber eyes. "What are you doing up here? You should be down there sorting patrols," Darkheart ignored her as she continued on, keeping his eyes on the kits. Stupid she-cat, He thought. Why did Treestar chose you as deputy? I should be leader of BrookClan, not the deputy who must wait for you to die nine times over... "Darkheart!" Darkheart turned back to his leader, who was now furious. "Can you quit staring at those kits and get back to doing your deputy duties? Honestly, I wonder why I chose you as deputy," He watched her stalk away, her ginger pelt bristling. He narrowed his eyes. Why should I care? "Winterkit and Moonkit..." He begins, sliding out his claws. "Perhaps you can be a help of something..."