The Dawn of Night | A Warriors Fanfiction ✔

Chapter 30

Bluestripe padded out of the elder's den and stretched. Sighing, she padded to her mate, Redflame, who was busy getting a hunting patrol ready.

"May I go on a hunting patrol?" Bluestripe gazed into his deep hazel eyes hopefully.

"Will you be alright? Don't the kits - our kits - need you?" He turned around and mewed.

"I just want to get out of camp - for awhile at least. I've been stuck here for moons," she mewed back earnestly. "I'll be fine." Redflame nodded.

"Swiftclaw, Oakleaf, Bluestripe is going with you on patrol. Take Willowtuft with you." He looked around, and decided that the patrol was good.

The two warriors followed Bluestripe through the gorse tunnel. For one shocked instant she nearly tripped on the fallen trunk at the entrance; she still could not see out of one of her eyes.

Willowtuft padded ahead. She was still getting used to her new home outside camp now that her kits were apprentices. She flattened her ears in an attempt to let the wild wind sweep past her. Stormstar had been mentoring her.

"I can't believe Sunstorm had to kit in the middle of leaf-bare," Swiftclaw mewed softly.

"Do you still think you can hunt, Bluestripe?" Oakleaf asked. Ever since Maplestar - his sister - had died, he had never been the same. He looked older than ever and grey fur started to grow around his muzzle.

"Of course I can," Bluestripe flicked her ears irritably. "I've still got my ears and whiskers."

"No need to be snippy," Willowtuft pushed. "I'll need some help too. Where to first?"

Swiftclaw paused to drink in the icy air. "The stream, perhaps," she suggested. "There may be some rabbits hiding in burrows there."

"Who said you were leading this patrol?" Oakleaf asked her interestedly.

Bluestripe thought she scented a hare near Fourtrees and began her hunting crouch, following her nose and ears. She could not see the prey, which was on the side of her bad eye. She pounced but collapsed onto the frost, chest heaving.

"Not enough jump," Swiftclaw told her. "It ran into the brambles."

"Mouse dung," Bluestripe muttered.

Willowtuft had a water vole dangling from her jaws and padded over. She dropped it and pressed her muzzle against Bluestripe's. "It's alright," she soothed her. "It was a good try."

"But not good enough!" Bluestripe spat through frustration. Then she realized her outburst and began to purr. "I'm sorry, Willowtuft. It's just that... I used to be so much better..."

"Your eye will heal," meowed the sandy-colored warrior. "Darkspot said so."

Sunhigh was approaching by the time the patrol was nearly done. The others had caught a couple of measly morsels, and Bluestripe had managed to catch a young thrush that had fallen out of its nest. Feeling that it didn't count because it was so skimpy, she hoped Willowtuft might help her.

"Don't try to see," she suggested. "Close your eyes so you don't focus on it."

"Okay." Bluestripe smelled a dove nearby, making her mouth water. It smelled big and healthy.

"Go on," Willowtuft whispered encouragingly, giving her a small nudge with her tail.

Bluestripe shut her eyes, letting the scent of the bird engulf her and padded toward where it was strongest while being downwind. Feeling each pawstep touch the icy forest floor, she could feel the dove's gentle movements as it pecked at a cluster of seeds on the ground.