Warriors: Silverjaw's Sorrow

Chapter Nine

The camp reigned under silence in the early morning. The sun lingered just beneath the horizon, only interpreted by the barest glimmers of light against the starry sky. The singing of crickets at last fell into silence at the first sign of morning, intercepted by an eerie quiet, patiently waiting for the first bird to greet the day.

    The trees surrounding the camp were mostly bare of their leaves, their branches stretching outwards like spindly fingers. Leaf-bare was unofficially upon them. While a few weeks of leaf-fall still technically remained, the cold season was coming quicker than ever—according to Silverpaw's elder Clanmates, at least. She had no room to judge.

    She was already awake and sitting in the clearing. She embraced the pre-dawn silence with a soft breath, the cool air nipping at her lungs. It had been a few weeks since the riverside incident, and a few days since the fox attack. In that time, Silverpaw had found herself cleaning dens, tending to the nursery—where Pigeonkit and Finchkit tried relentlessly to distract her with their antics—and spending every evening with Sandytail. Amid the mixed feelings from her Clan, the gruff tom was slowly beginning to warm to her.

    Today, however, things would be different. Sorrelmouse had at last admitted that it was time for Silverpaw to return to her normal training. It was an exciting thought, but anxiety overpowered anything she could be looking forward to.

    Silverpaw fidgeted as the sun, now peeking above the horizon, glittered down into the clearing. Birds whistled their sing-song tune, and the warrior's den rustled. Salmonskip, with his teeth bared in a gaping yawn, tiredly emerged. His gray fur was unkempt with sleep, and if he was surprised by Silverpaw's early presence, he didn't let it show as he paused to briefly groom himself.

    The den continued to rustle as more warriors emerged and dispersed about the clearing. Light chatter began to fill the air as the cats waited to be assigned to the next patrol. Silverpaw's ears pricked as three freshly awoken warriors, Crowspots, Wolfpounce, and Swimleap, settled down nearby. Swimleap dragged a meaty squirrel over by the tail.

    Swimleap nosed the prey with a paw, her brow furrowed as she searched past the fur. Finally, she took a dainty nibble from the flesh, wrinkling her nose distastefully, but continuing to divulge herself regardless. "I don't understand how the other Clans can stand all this fur," she grumbled. "Do any of you want to share? I doubt I can finish this entire thing on my own."

    Wolfpounce gingerly joined her, while Crowspots remained where she was. She eyed the squirrel with repugnance. "No thanks," the old warrior rasped.

    "Your loss," Swimleap chuffed, flicking her tail dismissively to her former mentor.

    The trio of cats grew quieter as they continued to absently discuss warrior matters. Silverpaw was about ready to head off in search of Sorrelmouse, when at last something caught her attention. She strained her ears to hear what they were saying.

    "Did anybody tell you what Heatfur and I found on the border yesterday?" Swimleap asked quietly, swallowing a mouthful of meat.

    "No," Wolfpounce responded.

    Crowspots shook her head curiously.

    Swimleap's eyes darted around. Flicking her silver tail, she hunched her shoulders. "Crowfood," she hissed. "All along the border. It looked like it was there overnight, collecting flies and this horrific odor. Pinestar, Salmonskip, and Wishfern went out shortly after we reported it. I think they were investigating, maybe even cleaning it up." She leaned back, her whiskers quivering. "You think it had something to do with those rogues? Y'know, the one Lionpoppy's kit says attacked her?"