Warrior Cats: The Four Clans

Okay, here we go! :3

ic) George Cooper had just gotten back from a long day alone. He picked four wallets from tourists, and stole two cameras. They were layed out in front of him on an old table in an abandoned warehouse he called home. The guys had been there earlyer that day, which was obvious, because they left him a pile of trinkets. They liked to leave him presents for his hospitality, along with notes of their spying. He called his closest group the "King's Own", and the name was learned to be feared from most thiefs. Nobody but the King's Own knew George's name, and not even George himself knew his origional name. He was refferd to all as the  "King of Thieves".

He looked through the pile of trinkets, thinking about his Own. Their job was to go about the city, spying for those thieves who thought themselves too highly. If they were close to getting caught, George reminded them nicely to keep hidden. He taught his Own the trade, and they in turn taught others it, too. The problem with passing on your craft, was that you had to make sure it wasn't used in the worst of ways.

George came across a book in his pile, titled "Rosewood". It was a deep scarlet, the colour of blood, but faded, worn, and torn by time. It had a tree branch on the front, just laying there. Under it, was the author's name, so small he could barely make it out. It was simply, "The Bluejay". He opened up the cover, and it nearly fell off. Someone must have admired his taste in old books. Turning to the first page, his eyes drank in the sweet literature. Though he felt a strange tickle in the back of his throat. These words itched to be read out loud. So he read them.


Once, in a world not unlike our own, There was a forest. It was grand, the trees growing so high, you would swear the clouds would swallow the tops. All around, the smell of roses draws you in, from which the forest gets it's name. There are creatures of all sorts running about, stopping to look at the strangest one,

at that minute, the book seemed to fade away. He didn't realise he was getting sucked deeper than would be possible by the alluring words. Not until he looked up to see a tiny pink squirrel with two tails.

" Ash! Get down here, you have a package! " Asher groned and said, " I don't wanna! " She heard heavy footsteps clunking up the stairs. She turned over on her side and put a pillow on her head and groned again. Her brother knocked on her door and said, " I'll leave it outside. Okay? " After a few minutes, he left.  She waited until he left until she got up out of bed and tiptoe to her door. She opened it a crack and pulled in the box. She closed the door and scurried to a open place on the ground.  When she pulled the item out of the box she smilled.  It was a large dusty book. She blew the dust off of it and read a simple title, " Rosewood" In a few minutes, Asher was curled up on her bed with the book.  But when she looked to see who the author was it was two simple words, " The Bluejay. " Her eyebrows bent. Who was this misterious Bluejay? She gentily opened the book and read the first paragraph out load.

Once, in a world not unlike our own, There was a forest. It was grand, the trees growing so high, you would swear the clouds would swallow the tops. All around, the smell of roses draws you in, from which the forest gets it's name. There are creatures of all sorts running about, stopping to look at the strangest one,

At that moment, the world seemed to fade away and in a few minutes she was dragged into a world of light and color. A whole different world then Earth. She gasped as she saw a blue and sliver horse with wings. It passed her without a sound. It just stared at her with those intense eyes and then lopped away. It was like this was a dream.