. : Daisies in my Paws : . . : A warriors fanfiction : .

. 1 .

I remember my first war clearly. I was an apprentice that day. It was then that I realized: War isn't a heroic battle between good and evil. War is a needless bloodbath where the only thing protecting you is the warrior code.

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Turtlestride sat in the clearing, stub tail flicking slightly, paws kneading the sun warmed sand beneath her absent-mindedly.

She watched Grassripple's three kits playing just outside the nursery, tumbling over each other, pouncing back and forth.

Stupid kits. Stupid. You're stupid. Her thoughts went on and on in this matter. Of course, she didn't think at all that Galahkit, Pondkit or Themedakit were stupid.

And when she tried to deny that, her thoughts continued, you're lying. Mousebrain. You think they're disgusting. Stupid.

So she gave up trying to argue with them. Desperate for an escape, she stood, heading over to the deputy, Featherfall.

"Featherfall?" She addressed.

Featherfall, not noticing her, continued to count fresh-kill, standing beside the mound of dead prey.

"Featherfall." She lifted her paw, prodding Featherfall gently.

Featherfall turned around. "Oh, Turtlestride." He yawned. There were bags under his bloodshot eyes.

"You should... Probably... Get some sleep." Turtlestride suggested. Classic Featherfall-- never taking time to take care of himself.

"Is that all?" Featherfall asked, lifting a paw, rubbing his eyes.

"I was wondering if I could go on a hunting patrol, perhaps?" Turtlestride responded.

"Mm... Sure. Take your friend." Featherfall answered, yawning again, turning back to the fresh-kill pile, mumbling numbers.

Turtlestride nodded slowly, staring at him a moment. She sighed, turning. Probably couldn't convince the over-worked deputy to sleep.

Now... Where would Thornberry be?

Dead, I bet. Because you didn't care about her enough. I bet your mom's dead too, you horrible cat. You're gonna walk in the warriors' den and you're gonna find Thornberry dead.

Turtlestride trotted towards the warriors' den at a faster pace, as if running from her thoughts.

Dead, dead, dead, dead... The thoughts repeated in her mind, louder, louder, until she reached the warriors' den.

Thornberry was in there. She was fine. She was on top of... Larkstep. Playfully cuddling with the tom.

"Ahem," Turtlestride loudly cleared her throat, averting her eyes from the lovebirds.

Thornberry and Larkstep leapt apart.

"Turtlestride! You beebrain! Can't we have some privacy?" Thornberry hissed, swatting at Turtlestride.

"Hmph. How did I know you two were gonna be snuggling in the warriors' den? Come on, we've gotta go on a hunting patrol." Turtlestride informed.

"Fine. Goodbye, sweetie." Thornberry nuzzled Larkstep.

"I'll see you soon, honey." Larkstep purred.

Turtlestride made pretend retching noises in the corner. Thornberry rolled her eyes, walking over to Turtlestride.

"How long is it gonna be till you two start calling each other 'sweetums' and 'honey bear baby boo boo'?" Turtlestride teased, nudging Thornberry as they left the warriors' den.

"Oh, shut up." Thornberry scoffed. "You are for real a jerk." Then Thornberry playfully tackled Turtlestride, laughing.

Turtlestride pounced back at her, pinning her down. "Ha!"

Turtlestride looked down at Thornberry's laughing face.

Scratch her. Bite her. She paused. Intrusive thoughts would never seem to stay gone for long. She ignored this and stepped off of Thornberry.

"We're wasting time, silly. Let's go hunt." Turtlestride said.

"Y'know what I'd rather be doing?" Thornberry replied.

"What?"

"Getting all snuggly-wuggly with my one true sweetums." Thornberry replied jokingly.

"I will puke all over you." Turtlestride responded, a smile tugging at her muzzle.

Thornberry laughed- Turtlestride laughed too, as she usually seemed to do when another cat was laughing.

The two friends headed out of camp.