Nightfall - A Warrior Cat Hunger Games Book (Applyfic)

2 - The Last Hunt

~ Moonheart ~

I crouch low in the long grass, waiting patiently for the right moment to strike.

A few fox-lengths in front of me is a brightly-coloured finch.

It's a cold, leaf-bare evening and I'm hunting for what I'm sure is the last time.

This morning, I was chosen to participate in the Hunger Games, alongside a warrior named Goosewhisker.

I'm small and weak - I'll probably die in the bloodbath at the beginning of the game.

Finally, I pounce.

The screech of the finch is loud and alarming, but it stops abruptly, as I swiftly kill it with my claws.

I'm tempted to eat it now, as I won't be able to have FeatherClan prey ever again, but others need it more and the last thing I want is to be in trouble with Stormstar.

Tomorrow morning, I'll be escorted to LeopardClan and I'll begin my training for the games.

It takes three sunrises to reach LeopardClan's huge camp and half a moon later, the Hunger Games begin.

I'm honestly not surprised I finally got chosen.

I've taken out thirty-four tesserae in total and I probably have the most in the clan.

I took out some of my tesserae to get herbs for my best friend Thrushleap, who passed away a few moons ago.

He'd always been sickly, but it got much worse near the end of his life, so I took out some tesserae to get herbs for him.

The medicine cat, Larkleaf, refused to help him, because apparently he was going to die regardless.

However, using my small herbal knowledge, that my late brother taught me when I was a kit, I tried my hardest to save him.

But Larkleaf was right and he died.

I'll never forgive myself for letting Thrushleap die.

Everyone tells me I tried my hardest.

But I know, deep down, that I could've saved him.

As I take my finch back towards camp, I stand still for a moment, taking in my surroundings.

Never again will I see my clanmates, my territory, my kin.

Not that I have much family - my 'parents' - Mistyelf and Greypelt turned out to have adopted me, my sister, Jumpingwind and my brother, Pigeonspots. I drifted away from them after that, hating them for lying to me my whole life.

My brother died moons ago.

The horrifying thought of leaving Jumpingwind all alone is starting to overcome me and I fight hard to stop the tears from falling.

I can't let myself be that one snivelling tribute, who's pitied by the crowd.

To get sponsors, I must be strong and brave.

Don't cry, Moonheart.

At last, I begin padding back to camp.

Now, I can barely see my paws in the darkness surrounding me.

The finch tastes so good in my mouth and I have to scratch myself every time I think about eating it, to stop myself giving in and wolfing it down.

Besides, I might be able to get some prey in the morning.

As I walk forwards, I can make out a flash of snowy-white fur, tipped with grey.

There isn't a single cat in my clan that looks like that - except Pigeonspots.