Warriors: Beetlestar's Path

Chapter Seven

     Shapes squirmed in the water like worms and curled around Beetlewing's legs. They pulled on him, dragging him into the dark river, and he yanked his paws free only for them to be grabbed once more. Claws dug into his fur and slid across his skin. Fire bloomed in his flesh as thorny vines tore ever deeper into him. The muck had reached his chest and neck, and long bramble tendrils began to wrap around his head and face. He opened his mouth to scream and nothing came out. 

     Through the small hole left over his eye by thick briars, he could see the shape of a yellow eyed cat sitting on the bank as they watched with thinly slit pupils. They smelled of reeds and rain, of WaterClan, and they turned away and stalked into the shadowy woods. 

     Please! Help! 

     "Come on, wake up!" Someone snapped. Beetlewing's eyes fluttered open and he flailed his paws, locking up when a paw pushed him back down into his nest. "You're gonna wake the whole den." 

     "Wh- Huh?" Beetlewing glanced around the den. Most still slept in their nests, some snoring while others twitched or mewled in their sleep. Meanwhile Brighteye stood over him with his gray pelt wild and mismatched blue and brown eyes narrowed at the deputy.  

     "You nearly kicked Littlestep," Brighteye whispered. "Be careful." 

     "Oh- sorry. Sorry." Beetlewing sat up. His neck ached from sleeping crooked in his nest and images of his dream swam in his head. He rolled his head and twisted to give his sides a few licks to flatten his fur. I'm so tired. A nest rustled as Brighteye crawled back into it, and Beetlewing skimmed the den. Heronswoop's nest was empty, as was Kinkedtail's and Fawnface's. I'm surprised any of those younger cats are up so early. Great StarClan, I sound old. 

     Unable to relax, Beetlewing stepped out of his feathery nest and emerged from the den. Wet dew clung to his paws as mist hung in the camp. The sky had just begun to turn gray. Arching his back to stretch, Beetlewing yawned and looked around, Kinkedtail catching his eye. The young warrior crouched by the Flat Rock as though he were stalking a mouse. Standing just a foxlength away from his was Flutterkit, his soft gray fur prickling with excitement. 

     Kinkedtail looked up and blinked at Beetlewing, nodding his head to gesture for the deputy. Flutterkit followed his gaze and beamed. "Kinkedtail's showing me a crouch!" 

     Beetlewing padded over to the two. "He seems to be doing a good job of it," he answered coolly, "but he should probably take a break before he hurts his leg even more." 

     The orange warrior snorted and sat up, puffing his chest out a bit. "I'm feeling perfectly fine! I only twisted it ya know." 

     Flutterkit loudly purred and began to try the crouch again, paws splayed out messily and tail quivering above the ground. "I'm gonna be a great warrior! And catch so many fish and moles and bugs and stuff." The little tom kit wiggled his haunches and pounced, landing beside Beetlewing's tail, and then grabbing it with his tiny paws and toppling over. Beetlewing couldn't help but snicker with amusement. He's a good kit. Ripplekit too. Acornpelt's doing a fine job. 

     "You mousebrain, be more careful." 

     "Yeah, I know."  

     Beetlewing craned his neck to look towards the camp entrance as Heronswoop and Fawnface emerged from the reeds. Heronswoop held his head low. Mud caked his legs, chest, and much of his face, and Fawnface giggled at the sight of him. Troutpaw brought up the rear and held a large bunch of feathers in his jaws. What happened to them? 

     "Looks like they had an eventful early morning," Kinkedtail mused as he got to his paws. Beetlewing started towards the trio, leaving Flutterkit to play with his friend, and looked them over, bemused.