Eagleflight's Battle

Chapter 1

Bleak sunlight filtered into the den, lighting it dimly. Eaglepaw's eyes shot open, darting around his surroundings. Nests, many of them made from grass and the little moss they had on Frostclan's moor. The roof, patched for generations with dried out straw and wet mud. Still, those defenses didn't stop morning rain from seeping through them.

"Wake up, you fat grouse!" Fogpaw, a grumpy gray tom, snapped. His tail lashed once as he prodded a sharp paw into Eaglepaw's flank. The black and white tom whipped his head around and snapped at the paw, hissing.

"You stupid hair-ball, what's that for?" Eaglepaw mewed sharply, batting clumsy at Fogpaw's muzzle. Fogpaw rolled his eyes, tail flicking.

"Do you want to miss the training patrol?" He asked, head turning to look at the entrance of the den. Eaglepaw groggily raised to his paws, fur puffed out from the dream. Again. Fogpaw stalked out of the den into the dull sunlight. Eaglepaw followed, blinking as eyes adjusted to such sudden changes in light.

The camp was unusually busy for sunrise. Pineconefur groomed her son, Seedkit, who was only four moons old. Hawkfur was his father, though he usually wasn't around to play with the kit. Then there was Darkfire, the pregnant she-cat who used to be an amazing warrior. Whitefur and her were a good match, Eaglepaw thought, but now the white tom seemed not as interested in his mate. Reedfall, Hawkfur, and Flowersight waited at the camp entrance, a narrow rabbit hole.

Fogpaw briskly brushed toward the warriors, eyes on his paws. Eaglepaw walked after him, stifling a yawn. The sun wasn't even fully up in the sky. Why wake up so early? Hawkfur looked behind Eaglepaw and Fogpaw, eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Why aren't we leaving?" Fogpaw grumbled, tail lashing once, "It's alre-" Reedfall fixed the gray tom with a stern glare. She was his mother, though they looked only vaguely related. Eaglepaw constantly thought he resembled his father, though he'd never say it. No one was permitted to speak about Shrubwhisker, not even Maplestar. No cat even uttered the word 'falcon' after Eaglepaw's kithood. Or 'salmon.' Eaglepaw felt his stomach twist.

"Whitefur is coming to help improve your fighting skills," Hawkfur dipped his head at Reedfall. She turned away, towards the rabbit hole. Eaglepaw eyed the ground. The tension hung in the air until a fluffy white tom bounced up. Whitefur always acted like nothing but an excited kit, but was in reality an older warrior and an amazing hunter and fighter. Eaglepaw secretly looked up to the white warrior.

"Whitefur," Flowersight greeted, nodding to the tom, "we are thinking of learning the tail tuck method today." Whitefur frowned a bit, looking thoughtful.

"Isn't that a little hard to learn?" He tsked, glancing at the two apprentices. Fogpaw glared at the tom. Eaglepaw felt the urge to cuff the hot-headed tom over the ear. Why must he take everything personal? Eaglepaw, with a roll of his eyes, looked gently at Whitefur.

"We can do it," He chirped, purposely soft. Fogpaw looked as mad as a buck, eyes narrowed and glowering. Eaglepaw stifled a snicker. Whitefur eyed the tom suspiciously, before answering slowly.

"Alright then." Eaglepaw beamed and nodded, Fogpaw bristling beside him. Reedfall, tail puffed up a bit, like always, turned towards the rabbit hole again. This time, Hawkfur followed, ducking under the sandy roof of the tunnel. Eaglepaw rushed into the dim tunnel before Flowersight could step in, grinning excitedly. For the past few days all they'd been doing was stalking each other's tails. It was a hare-brained exercise in Eaglepaw's opinion, but Flowersight named it as 'practice for hunting.'

Eaglepaw emerged onto the moorland, grinning. It was an endless stretch of dead grass, only a few green patches. Shrubs sat proudly in the healthy grasses. A few spindly, leafless trees stood, shaken by the smallest puff of wind. Somewhere ahead, voles, rabbits, and Eaglepaw's personal favorite, finches. The tan colored soil below his paws were soft, welcoming. A soil Eaglepaw had once rolled in. The scents were of thick dust, and a little rain on the horizon, maybe a rabbit nest ahead. The moor seemed endless, always there, to Eaglepaw. Until he found Mountainclan's border, long ways away from camp, Eaglepaw was able to believe that there was only one clan, and it was Frostclan. Fogpaw might have called him an ignorant kit, but Eaglepaw thought it was bliss to be able to believe such a thing.