sage | a warrior cats fanfiction

chapter eight

Adderheart knew that waking in the morning would probably be one of the hardest things he'd do all quarter moon. There were so many things that could go wrong with a simple motion, a basic action, a quipped mention of something in someone's speech...

It was reasonable that he was pleased to wake before the sunrise, then.

The pale-furred warrior rose carefully, edging from the den. His ears twitched as he slipped from the den. Memories from the night before rushed back to him, feelings immediately clambering up into his throat. Swallowing heavily, he shifted and padded toward the fresh-kill pile.

On the horizon, there was no sun, rather instead a moon, one that delicately held itself up. However, it wasn't going to last for long. Even though no sun existed just yet, its faint rays of peachy pinks and charming oranges slowly crept upward on the opposing horizon. The moon glared sharp, icy daggers at it, however, it couldn't stop the morning's approaching steps.

Picking up a thin, russet squirrel from the pile, he swerved toward the place where he and Pantherleap had been trapped previously. Tufts of light fur were stuck in the wall. He cursed under his breath. Had nobody noticed yet?

Quickly, he removed each piece, the other tom's scent wreathing around him. Adderheart scraped at the ground, shoving the tufts of fur into the ground before patting the dirt down firmly on top of it.

He finished his squirrel soon enough and for good measure, he buried the bones on top of the fur.

"Adderheart?"

Pantherleap!

The warriors' gazes met.

Immediately, Adderheart pulled himself to his paws, padding over to the tom. He stood at the fresh-kill pile, glancing back down to the heap of prey. It appeared emptier than before as if someone had stolen some of its contents after Adderheart had taken his squirrel.

"Hungry?" Adderheart prompted.

Pantherleap turned away, shaking his head decisively. He trotted toward the entrance of camp and Adderheart followed him, watching with guarded dark gray eyes.

The warrior slipped through the camp's entrance, leaving Adderheart to quickly trot after him.

He supposed that it would take a bit to get to the forest, and that was fine. He was sure that Pantherleap knew that, too, for the original pace they both set out in was a steady yet brisk one. It was clear that Adderheart did not want to waste the time they had before dawn, and he hoped that Pantherleap agreed.

Heading out before dawn not only secured the fact that it was unlikely anyone would see them. It also helped confirm the idea in both cats' minds that they could spend a bit longer chattering while still using the patrol as a coverup. Most patrols went out precisely at dawn, so if the two wanted to make it on time without being suspicious, they could likely talk a bit past dawn.

Adderheart watched as Pantherleap jumped nimbly over a small, fallen log, covered in moss. On its somewhat rotten surface was the light tinging of prey-scent. It was earthy, deep, pleasant and full. Likely a vole or a ground-bound squirrel, he knew, yet there was no sight of the prey.

As the two continued on, the pale-furred senior warrior found that there were plenty more smells like that. Drifting, yet present, as if the creature had once been there yet now had disappeared for reasons unknown to the cats.

Passing through a small clearing, Adderheart caught sight of a mouse, scuffling at the roots of a pine tree. Some of its needles had fallen delicately to the ground, seeming fresher than a lot of the other cushiony pieces of the tree. The mouse didn't seem to notice the prickly objects all around it though, for it kept digging at the base of the tree.