Hostile

1

      Snow-melt clung to Frostcloud's underbelly and legs as the late leaf-bare sun slowly crept above her hunting patrol. The heat it radiated was just enough to force the snow into an awful state of runny ice, but not near enough to warm the air that bit the small she-cats ears.

  Frostcloud led the cats past Bearwalkers Den and a familiar feeling of loss ebbed at her stomach. She allowed herself a discreet glance towards the white stone inside the structure. A nightmarish image of Littlefern trapped within its cold surface, wailing and alone, blazed behind her eyes and she forced herself to blink the thought away.

  Fourteen moons had passed since the young warriors death- since Frostcloud returned from bringing Bailey home. And since, Mosspool had put on weight, just as Dawnheart said she would. Though, that accomplishment has diminished with the barren season of leaf-bare.

  The apprentices have also been given their warrior names. Doepaw has been named Doeface, Duskpaw to Duskfur, Dustpaw to Dustclaw, Slatepaw to Slatethorn, Featherpaw to Feathertail, and Shalepaw to Shaleshimmer.

  Taking their place in the apprentice den was Rosepaw and Bramblepaw, another litter of Warmheart's. She'd had two more she-kits, but both had died shortly after their birth. Warmheart has been weaker since the delivery as well. Even still, Frostcloud was happy the apprentice den wasn't left vacant.

  And not to mention the stuffed nursery; Leafear had finally had the kits she wanted. Though not with the cat she initially wanted them with- it was Dustclaw who was the father. Five moons old now, and Ferretkit, Badgerkit, and Foxkit are all healthy and strong. They took after their parents fierce personalities. Though, the warriors frames didn't match their attitude anymore, as they grew wirey from hunger.

  Frostcloud sighed, painfully aware of the ribs jutting out of her own torso. A mushy patch of snow began slipping off the roof of Bearwalkers Den, and loudly, almost splashing, it fell to the ground. Leaf-bare would end soon, and she longed for the prey that would return with new-leaf.

  "There's no prey here." Buckheart murmured gently to Frostcloud. She nodded, having not realized she stopped to watch the den.

  Ahead of her, the hunting patrol waited. Slatethorn and Mosspool stood so close together their fur almost brushed. The younger warrior had recently earned a scar across his right shoulder after being attacked by a hungry snow owl. Fortunetly, he held the worst of the injuries among the cats involved in the scuffle, and the owl made for a good meal when Whitestar killed it. Even still, Frostcloud felt wary about not being the only hungry hunter in the forest. "What are we waiting for?" Rosepaw asked with a sharp tone.

  Frostcloud flicked her tail and her stomach rolled in an irritated hunger, "Don't raise your voice or you'll spook away the prey."

  Rosepaw gave a mild sneer. "You're not my mentor." She stated.

  That wasn't untrue. Cricketlegs was. But he's been sick with whitecough for the last several days, and while he rested in the medicine den, Frostcloud offered to take his apprentice out on patrols. "No, but your mentor left me in charge." She said.

  Rosepaw flicked her ears, but didn't add to the conversation. She certainly has her father's independence. Frostcloud thought to herself, almost seeing Crowfur's posture in Rosepaw. I wonder what made her so sharp though.

  "Let's go to Sun Stones." Frostcloud said, trying to lift her voice above annoyance.

  "That's a good idea!" Mosspool said, "I bet the snow is really melted there."

  "Maybe some plump squirrels are out napping in the sun." Buckheart mused, trotting to keep pace with Frostcloud.

  Frostcloud gave an amused twitch in her whiskers, "And they invited the slowest rabbits to join them, I bet."