𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐰 ◈━◈━◈ 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

     "Fox-dung!" Briarpaw snarled, skidding to a halt. She shredded leaf-mold under her claws furiously. The squirrel froze on the trunk of the tree and glanced down at her briefly, waved its tail mockingly, and then continued its ascent.

     Anger roiled in Briarpaw's belly. Out all morning, and not a single piece of prey to show for it! Her paws ached, and her belly felt hollow. Slightly dizzy after her zig-zagging pursuit of the wretched little squirrel, Briarpaw blinked to clear her head.

     "You can do better than that!" Tigerdawn caught up with her and glared. "And we are not going back to camp empty-pawed, even if it takes us all day." Her mentor's black-and-ginger tail lashed, and Briarpaw knew that behind her anger was desperation for prey. Still, that didn't make Tigerdawn's critical remarks over Briarpaw's incompetence any more desirable.

     Impulsively, and partly to escape a scathing lecture from Tigerdawn, Briarpaw leaped and latched onto the tree. Slowly, quietly, she began inching upwards to the branch the squirrel had perched on.

     "You can't catch a squirrel in a tree, Briarpaw," Tigerdawn scoffed.

     "Watch me," Briarpaw muttered, gritting her teeth and bringing herself up higher. The hunger clawing at her belly gave her a determined strength—the kind like a burst of adrenaline which soon fades and leaves exhaustion in its wake. Fluidly making her way up the tree trunk, Briarpaw was careful to not make scraping noises with her claws on the bark. The branch that the squirrel had settled atop was getting closer every moment. Mercifully, the fat gray animal had found a walnut and was absorbed in gnawing on it. When Briarpaw was level with the branch, she took a deep, wavering breath, calculated her jump, and made a daring leap.

     One paw slipped off, ripping a chunk of bark off with it, and Briarpaw plummeted—her forepaws still sunk into the squirrel's body. What could only have been seconds seemed like ages of falling. Briarpaw's heart was in her throat as she writhed in midair, desperately trying to be able to land on all four paws. A jarring thud slowed her descent as she slammed into and rolled off of a thick, low branch. The squirrel slipped from her claws, and at the last moment Briarpaw was able to twist enough to make a decent landing.

     Three paws landed squarely on the ground, but her right forepaw folded underneath her with a sharp twinge of pain. Briarpaw hissed and straightened up, testing the paw on the ground. It throbbed and sent a spike of pain up her leg. Definitely sprained, she thought ruefully.

     "Clumsy. Foolish. Dangerous. Rash. Need I go on?" Tigerdawn's voice growled. Briarpaw looked up at her glowering mentor. "That was a bird-brained move, Briarpaw. Now look at you. I'll bet a month of dawn patrols that paw is sprained—or worse, broken. You won't be able to hunt for a long time."

     "At least I got the squirrel," Briarpaw grumbled, licking her injured paw.

     Tigerdawn lashed her thin tortoiseshell tail. "How will I ever knock some sense into you? Briarpaw, you have a brain—an exceptional one, at that. Use it."

     Briarpaw stared at the ground, examining a dead piece of grass as if it held the answers to all life's questions.

     Tigerdawn let out a strangled sigh. "You're lucky I was down here to catch that squirrel, or else the fall would be for nothing. Now let's get back to camp—I suppose Roseberry will want to fuss over your stupid paw. C'mon," she grunted, grabbing the squirrel and marching on ahead. Briarpaw did her best, limping, to keep up with her mentor.

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