Warriors: Silverjaw's Sorrow

Chapter One

Claws flashed and yowls split the air.

Silverpaw spun around, thrashing the hide of one of the hundreds of rogues who poured around her. She fought with the full might of StarClan, every move as fast as lightning and as fearless as a howling storm as the onslaught of enemies continued.

A faint, painless itch caught her attention as a tom scored his claws across her flank. She spun around to face him, her lips peeled back in a snarl. With a raucous battle cry, she pounced at the tom, wrapping her claws around his shoulders and tackling him to the ground.

"This is RiverClan land!" Silverpaw crowed. She tore her claws along the faceless tom's stomach as he kicked and squirmed.

The rogue's claws thrashed against her belly fur. What should have been painful slices of agony instead felt like nothing but the stir of a breeze. Silverpaw was unstoppable. Victoriously, she slackened her iron grip, allowing the tom to run free. Her silver tabby tail spun in eager circles against the dust behind her.

A grin curled across her lips. She watched him flee with his tail tucked between his legs, straight into a screen of brambles. The rogue screeched as thorns scraped at his already battered pelt.

"Well done, Silverpaw."

Silverpaw spun around. Her golden eyes stretched wide in awe as they alighted upon the magnificent form of Pinestar, RiverClan's leader.

The brown tom stood gloriously before the sun, silhouetted by brilliant beams of golden sunlight. His thin brown fur rippled like liquid in a gentle breeze, and with a mighty yowl, he leaped from his perch and descended to the forest floor. At the thud of his paws, the clearing fell silent.

Just like that, the rogues were gone.

"You have succeeded in defending your Clan," Pinestar declared, his leaf-green eyes glowing with pride. Silverpaw squirmed with excitement, but as the imposing tom approached, she sucked in her breath, proudly puffed out her chest, and allowed her body to fall still. Pinestar's muzzle touched the crest of her forehead. "In recognition of your excellent battle skills, I declare you, Silverpaw, the bravest, most fiercest warrior of RiverClan, if not of the entire lake. By the powers of StarClan, I grant you your warrior name. Congratulations, Silver..."

Suddenly, the world tilted at a sharp angle. Shadows bled across the beautiful greens and golds of the earth, and as Silverpaw's stomach twisted at the imbalance, she cried out, "Wait! What's my warrior name?"

She lashed out at the inky darkness. The shadows devoured her paws, sweeping over her fur and spinning her around and around until nausea overbeared her. Panic consumed her every thought, and with a heaving gasp, she scrambled to her paws. Soft moss tore beneath her claws, and little pink shells nipped painfully at her scrabbling pads.

Her heart reeled as her eyes rapidly adjusted to the moonlit darkness. She sucked in a deep breath to calm her rapid heartbeat as the surroundings around her familiarized themselves. She plopped her haunches to the soft moss of her nest.

"Great StarClan," she muttered, giving her chest fur a brisk lick as weariness swept over her. "It was only a dream!"

Her golden eyes flitted around the den. The four other occupants dozed peacefully, all except for Lichenpaw, whose sleep-talking never seemed to cease. Once Silverpaw reassured herself that her rambunctious awakening hadn't disturbed her sleeping denmates, she visibly relaxed, and her thoughts meandered back to the dream.

Her claws itched for a battle. A real one that she could win, just as she had done in the dream. The imaginary war she'd brewed up, her faux warrior ceremony, and the sense of victory over such a grand success—of beating hundreds upon hundreds of rogues, all on her own! It filled her heart with pride and excitement.