Warriors: The Lone Buck ||Book 1||

Chapter 3

    Scrambling out from the nursery, the fawn colored tom silently observed the snowy clearing. His gray eyes were wide as he watched the warriors and apprentices trot back and forth. They were reinforcing the barriers of camp, with many of the older does calling orders out to the fawns. "A little bit lower, Hazelpaw!" One muscular doe called up to her apprentice, who was precariously balanced on a black hawthorn bush. She was weaving brambles into a nearby yew, her body stretched across the two bushes.   

    Puffing, Hazelpaw removed the branches, then laced the brambles into the lower boughs of the yew. He trembled with excitement, his heart jumping at the thought of being an apprentice. 'Who would be my mentor?' Buckkit wondered to himself, his eyes flicking around camp. If he could even be an apprentice, that is. His joy flattened as he remembered he wasn't even supposed to be in the Clan.

    Let alone be born. He shook his fur immediately at the memory, his eyes growing fierce. 'It doesn't matter,' he tried to convince himself. 'I will make them realize that I should stay, that I can be a valuable member of the Clan!' He was jolted from his thoughts when a peach and gray doe trotted into the clearing. Her head was high as she held a squirrel in her jaws, her shoulders back confidently as she trotted across camp.

    Following her was a large warrior, a light gray doe, and a pale silver warrior. All four cats were laden with prey as they trotted into the center of camp. Many of the does working on the barriers paused to see who had entered camp. At the sight of prey, many of them congratulated the patrol and praised Faith the Divinity.

    "Nice catch!"

    "This is a good haul. Especially for the start of a pile."

    "Thank you, Faith! We'll be able to survive this after all." The patched doe started the fresh kill pile, walking away as the other warriors dropped their prey on top. Several of the working warriors ordered their apprentices to take a break. A couple of them snatched up a piece of fresh kill and trotted back to their den. They chatted excitedly as they settled beside the bramble den.

    The buck stretched onto his toes, shivering as he watched the warriors.

    'I can't imagine hunting in this snow,' he thought. He shivered again as he eyed the thick snow that laid around him. Two moons had passed since Buckkit's kitting, and days after his birth, several snowstorms had hit the forest. They were nonstop and tore up everything in their path, thanks to their high winds. The snowstorms had dragged into spring, forcing the prey to become well hidden in their dens. Along with destroying over half of the camp barriers, leaving the Clan defenseless from larger predators.

    When the storms had finally stopped, and the sun's rays became strong once again, the Clan's hope had risen. However, it was easy to tell, at just a glance, that the harsh winter had weakened the cats. Many of the warriors were scrawnier than was normal for winter. Even some of the apprentices had grown skinnier from those dark and cold days. Buckkit remembered overhearing Larkheart's conversation with Breezesky, a few days before the storms had ended.

《♡》

    "Does Cloudfall think it's a sign?" The tortoiseshell growled to the apprentice, her tail flicking. Sighing, Breezesky slowly shook her head, lowering it to peer at the ground.

    "She thinks everything is a sign right now," she muttered a bitter response. "If only she'd think before jumping to conclusions..." Larkheart snorted with laughter, her tail still flicking side to side.

    "It's her job as a medicine cat to do that," she meowed ruefully. "It's the best thing they're good at." The apprentice grunted in response, her head shaking again as she looked up.