Warrior Cat Sketch Novels & Stories

Allistar POV Today is my 18th birthday and i cannot explain how excited I am to find my mate, i've been waiting for her since I first found about about mates, which was when I was 10 years old. So, yea I have been waiting for a long time and all I can hope for is that she is kind and maybe just maybe a good fighter. The last one is mainly becasue I am the Top Warrior of my pack, the Opal river pack, and it would be a dream come true to train with my mate. I became Top Warrior of my pack a few weeks after my 16th birthday. I had always been an amazing warrior since i started training when i was 12 years old per the request of my father Alexander to ensure I make myself useful to the pack. Nor

There would be no repeat of his hands on me or in me. A nasty growl had my head snapping up to the ring. Mason had been wounded, the smell of his blood permeating the air. His opponent had partially shifted and managed to claw Mason’s shoulder. The deep angry red lines oozed blood. Like a wild cat, Mason growled. His chest puffed out and his frame became larger with anger. A warrior by the name of Simeon. A large werecat who got a lucky scratch in suddenly began shaking as Mason stalked toward him. The warrior shifted into a large honey-colored cougar snarling and growling. Suddenly Mason leaped toward the warrior, shifting midair. I was always amazed by the size of Mason’s were-form, a larg

:Warrior, you said you had another such vision earlier. Rhychard nodded as he told them about the incident at his parents' house. "That one was real enough to singe my fingertips." He held out his hands for their inspection. Tryna slid off the table, took his fingers in her tiny hands, and inspected them as if she were a doctor. "You really should have had Kree treat these burns when they first occurred. That is part of the reason cosheys bond with Warriors, remember? Their healing powers help keep you alive."

He would trust in himself to keep her happy and in his life, not some strange, mystical force. The golden-eyed warrior arrived from behind a tapestry that hid the way out. "So, dog, are you ready to fight?" "Anytime, kitty cat. Anytime." The tanned fellow laughed. "I am Chaob, and it is not me that is challenging you for the female." "Pity." "Yes, because my cousin is much bigger. Not quite as big as Acat, but close." "And Acat is?" "Carlie's other mate." "Other, as in two?"

The little black cat curled up in her lap as usual. "Tonight we find out the real skinny on this, kitty," she murmured as she opened the heavy book to the page she had marked. "I don't even know what I'm looking for any more but I hope I find it soon." She opened the book to the place she'd marked, two pages of hand-drawn sketches. One of the drawings especially caught her eye. The face of the wolf looked almost human and she had the bizarre feeling the animal was staring out at her from the page.

She is giving instructions to the new Warrior Chief she appointed, and Mathew notices their trainings are a bit more intense than usual, as though the Alpha is expecting to be involved in a battle with another pack or something. Marcus, Mathew notices, has joined the warriors as well. Great for him. After the humiliation he has gone through of having the highest position in the pack taken away from him, being a warrior is a wise choice. A warrior position is a very respectable position in any pack. Marcus must know that Emily already told him that she found out about the wife and now hates him, because, as soon as he sees Mathew, Marcus starts trying to strike a conversation with Emily. Math

"Which is why you summoned me." "Yes." She agreed. "You are a dragon warrior, born to fight. To one such as you, battling is as natural as breathing. Is this not so?" He leaned backward to rest on his elbows, stretching out one leg casually. "My kind are rather good at killing, yes." His tone was also casual, but the predator's gleam was still in his eyes and even relaxed, he radiated power. To Allorah he seemed very much like one of the giant island cats, a mass of sleek muscle and dangerous intelligence.

At the same time, he decreased the size of his drawing and increased the sturdiness of its muscle and also a weapon. It took him two seconds to change his creation for the better. “Off you go. Kill the gasoline man for me. He is your kin too. Let’s see how strong he is.” He patted his drawing petulantly. The drawing instantly jumped into the battlefield and pushed out the unrelated pests that were in the way. Orange raised his hand, creating numerous arrows above him. “These guys are like fucking stormtroopers,” he commented as he sliced his hand in the air. Shoot!

"You heard me correctly. She's my girlfriend. And none of you has the right to insult her." "And who exactly are you to make demands?" the older warrior scoffed as he stood. "You've barely been here long enough to know your place. Don't worry. I'll make sure the Alpha hears every word of this." For the first time, I looked directly at him. He appeared to be in his late thirties, broad-shouldered with a thick beard and hard eyes. His glare settled on me; instantly, my courage disappeared, and I looked away. What am I supposed to do?

I found a safe spot in the thick bushes and waited, watching. At first, everything was quiet. Then the man with the scar stepped into the yard where the other warriors were gathered. He was broad across the shoulders, solid but not massive — the kind of build that came from years of real fighting, not just show. The scar on his face caught my attention, ugly and raised, running from cheek to jaw like someone had tried to peel half his face off and almost succeeded. The other warriors called him Richard. They laughed with him, slapped his back, and shared stuff. He looked like he belonged there. Like he had been part of this family for years.