Warriors: Starlight

Chatper 15

Fireheart led them back to the nursery entrance, sat them back down and began explaining premise of their feud with ShadowClan, sparing them the gruesome details of cats slaughtering each other in the name of territory and prey, then began to explain to them how he and Graystripe had brought WindClan back from exile, and the close friendship that ThunderClan had shared with them since, perhaps inflating his mate's actions and making him seem more heroic than he actually was, and told them how ThunderClan and WindClan were now protecting each other from possible harm from the volatile clan, and emphasising that part about Bluestar and Tallstar investigating for more clues as to why they're acting this way, leaving out the part about it being his idea in the first place. He thought that he'd inflated his children' image of them enough for one day.

"But I don't get it. Why would they hurt us if we helped them get rid of Brokenstar? Thats mean and uncalled for." Featherkit complained.

"You're right it is mean. And very uncalled for, but you have to remember that we don't know why. That's why we are investigating before attacking and hurting them back" he explained to his Daughter. She still seemed a little cloudy-eyed, but Stormkit seemed to understand perfectly.

"Well, I can't wait to be the strongest warrior ever and protect you and Graystripe and guard the camp every night and show them why they should never mess with us, and give them some claw-marks to help them remember." He mewed, and Fireheart fixed him a stern look. "Hehe. if it's their fault." He corrected, and Fireheart nodded his approval, smiling.

"Good save" Featherkit whispered over her laughter.

"I'm sure you'll be a fierce warrior who'll defend the clan and fill the fresh kill pile everyday, but remember, until then, you're still my kits, and I have free-reign over you" he said, jumping up and leaping at the two like a badger. "ROAR!!"

They scattered, joyful squeals echoing through the ravine. 

Nightfall came soon, and as did the chill.

Leafbare was becoming more and more real.

With each sundown that came, the ground under them became more and more freezing. Fireheart passed by the elders' den, he heard the chattering of teeth, and the crinkling of leaves as the elders shivered each time a breeze blew down the ravine, and passed through the camp, and settled at the bottom of the cove. He pushed into the den with extra moss and draped it over them, one after the other in the hopes that it might ease the pangs.

It felt good to help around the camp. Even though he wasn't a warrior anymore, he could still help the clan, and as the days got worse, his help would be more and more needed and appreciated.

Now for the kits. He grabbed the remained of his dry moss-bundle and trotted back to his den, and when he pushed through the entrance, the warm, milky scent washed over him, instantly calming him. He then pushed closed the shrubbery in the entrance, an idea that Graystripe had for keeping out the cold air and keeping in the warm air.

Everyone was sleeping soundly, their breath coming in slow, heavy puffs. He slunk around, padding moss over kits in the den, and then padded quietly over to his nest, draping a layer of moss over his kits, curled tightly around them and let sleep take him as his shivers calmed down.

The next morning, he stepped out of the den, and entered the clearing to rumbling bellies. He could empathise with this. The fresh kill pile was even more barren this day as it was the day before, and everyone was getting hungrier, him included; The kits included; The elders included; Warriors were stalking around, grumbling at one another. Empty bellies were making everyone grumpy. He scanned the clearing and Longtail and Runningwind were glaring at each other, and Sandstorm and Darkstripe were hissing over a tough, leathery old mouse. It looked especially unappetising, though he found his belly grumbling upon glancing at it, but he wasn't going to get between those two to get it. They were welcome to have at it.

"I'm headed out" he meowed to Whitestorm who was standing guard. He nodded and shifted out of the way. Fireheart wanted to go hunting. Leafbare was the worst possible time for him to let his hunting go lax, and although he was far stronger and quicker thanks to his constant training with the deputy, he wasn't so naive as too think that would be enough to keep up with the strong hunters like Runningwind and Brindleface, and although he was pretty confident that he could take any of them in a fight at any time, that wasn't much help if everyone starved to death before he could strut his stuff, and for this reason, he needed to feed everyone.

Trekking through the forest lightly covered in snow, every step was a cold shock until he went numb to the feeling. He didn't realise that the snow was this heavy, since the ravine is decently protected from the elements. A fact that he suddenly appreciated now more than ever and he found himself wishing for the warm nursery. It felt like unearned privilege that he could simply turn back and go to sleep if he wanted to, and no cat would bat an eye. He felt like he was wasting energy just shivering. So this was why Tigerclaw insisted on training in one of the grooves in the ravine behind the camp. It was spacious, warmer than this, and pretty deserted, since nothing lived there. Maybe a badger could've found a home here many moons ago, but no sign of anything at this point. The rock floor hurt his paws at first, but after the first ten sessions, his pads roughed up to the hard surface, and no numbing cold to ache his paws whenever he knocked a claw.

This however, was utterly miserable. Absolutely, horrendously hyperborean. Every step felt like bitter needles jabbing him in the paws, sending shivers through him every other moment, and the gusts chilly wind didn't help at all. What in its right mind would be out in this? Obviously the critters had more sense than them, as only a worm brain would willingly spend their time up here instead of curled up in its nest. But here he was, and he wasn't leaving without prey in his jaw. But, of course, every paw step sent crunches echoing through the forest, bouncing off the trees. So thinking fast, he dived into a bush, padding tentatively across steady sticks, avoiding snow. He headed toward the fourtrees, he stopped every now and then, sniffing, listening, tasting. Sniffing, listening, tasting... There! The faint, but warm scent of vole, licked his senses, before fading. He dashed forward, chasing down the source, and as he made his way forward, the scent became stronger, and more tantalising, the whiff slipping over and around his tongue, almost eliciting drool. He instinctively slowed down as the scent became constant and close enough to track, and he slid down into a cunning hunter's crouch, slithering forward, and toward the object of his attention. His prey.

As he got to the tip of a rise, he peaked over the crest and spotted the brown fur of the little water-mouse. Fireheart focussed in, stepping closer slowly, keeping his scent downwind, and almost lost his temper as the wind threatened to change direction. Staying out of his prey's line of sight, he stalked toward the meal, and a meal for his children. He'd managed to get a tail length from the oblivious creature by using the logs for cover, and with a vicious pounce, he killed it without invoking any alarm screech. He stared for a couple heartbeats at his kill with satisfaction before picking it up to her back to camp. As he was about to turn tail and head away, his ears pricked with alarm at a strange twig snap thunderpath direction, before a "shhh.." Voiced softly,

"Don't you dare get us caught" another Cat hissed.

"If Nightstar finds out about this, he'll have our heads. You know he's on a tight leash. He's told us he doesn't want to disappoint him" The voice came again. What were they saying? They made it sound like Nightstar was taking orders from someone else. Hostile takeover? A coup? To this, Fireheart lept out of the shrubbery, Hissing and spitting.

"What are you doing on our territory" he demanded, lashing his tail threateningly. In front of him were two skinny tabby cats that he couldn't recognise. A she-cat and a tom.

"Great, look what you've done. Now we Have to kill someone. What a drag."

The she-cat muttered to the tom, unsheathing her claws and stalking toward the flame coated warrior queen. Fireheart's eyes widened in shock. What?