Warriors: Water's Edge

Chapter Five

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'M CURRENTLY LOOKING FOR A CO-WRITER FOR THIS STORY, HMU FOR DETAILS

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     Nightpaw rushed over the edge and crashed into the middle of the clearing. He padded quickly over to his littermate, turning his back on the bristling clan leader.

    " What's going on?" The fluffy black tom mewed urgently, setting down his prey. Ashpaw's tail whipped back and forth angrily. It was Sandface who replied, "Mothstar has done nothing to solve the murder of my littermate, Poppyfreckle." The fur on her spine was sticking straight up in defiance.

     The clan leader and medicine cat at odds? This has never happened before. Mothstar reared up on her hind legs, making her easily larger than any of her warriors. Her broad shoulder muscles rippled under her cream fur.

     "I don't tell everycat about what I know!" She hissed. "It's being handled, believe me."

     Sandface snarled a reply, "You should at least have faith in your medicine cat!"

     Nightpaw himself was a little curious to know what Mothstar was hiding. Did she know who had killed the spotted warrior?

     Ashpaw let the fur on his neck lay flat again, and padded away fuming. Sandface would not meet the apprentice's gaze, and the black tom groaned inwardly. If FireClan could not get along with each other, could he depend on them when this great danger came? He recalled the words Sandface has spoken after discovering Poppyfreckle's body at the last gathering.

     The price for peace is bloodshed...

     Suddenly, being in camp felt like a chore, and Nightpaw had the urge to be out in the forest, free. He set his catch on the freshkill pile, even though his belly ached for just a bite. He ignored the feeling, too worked up to eat even a mouthful. He let his paws carry him towards the river, unconsciously heading towards the old twoleg bridge separating FireClan from SandClan.

     His thoughts fluttered back to the white she-cat he had met only a few days ago. Cloudfeather had been polite even to talk at a gathering, but would that courtesy be extended when the truce no longer applied? He had no desire to meet the she-cat in battle, she was much larger than him, and well muscled, too. Not to mention her brother who always seemed to be close behind.

     Before he knew it, Nightpaw was passing the sandy hollow, empty at this time of day. Sunhigh had long passed, and the sky was streaked with red light. The trees gave way to brush and the soil was more sand than dirt now, the abandoned twoleg nest law ahead of him. He had heard stories of the ancient twolegs, always destroying their territory. Then one day, they just disappeared. This was long before the apprentice's time, and not a single cat in the forest had actually seen one. Legend has it, that the spirit of a young twoleg still resided in the confines of those four walls, still standing after all this time.

     Batfern, Nightpaw's mother had told them stories in the nursery, warning him to never set paw in the building, but now, he heeded no caution as he stepped forward. It was as if StarClan itself was pulling him towards the doorway. Just behind the old structure was the SandClan border, he could just make out the sandy river bed and the bridge just beyond.

    Anticipation itched at his paws, and he wanted nothing more than to just run inside and explore. What could be the harm in it?