Warriors: Dawnpaw's Discovery

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷

DAWNPAW SAVORED THE last bite of the plump thrush, her bright ginger tail flicking with a flicker of satisfaction. But the sweetness did little to displace the bitter taste of grief and horror that lingered on her tongue. Cloudpelt, the once proud white warrior, had been found lying lifeless on the ground the other day. The silence of his absence was a heavy weight upon ThunderClan. He had been a strong, fearless warrior, and everyone mourned for him.

It was Willowtail, the medicine cat, who had found his body. She had been out gathering herbs when she found him dead on the ground. According to Willowtail, Cloudpelt's body had been curiously unmarked by any wounds. Not a scratch. And there were no other cats' scents except for his own, accompanied by a faint trace of herbs and Willowtail's own worried musk.

Beneath her grief, Dawnpaw silently wondered what exactly had caused the brave warrior's death. It couldn't have been another cat, that was for sure. Maybe they would never know what exactly had happened. Still, Dawnpaw wondered.

As a shadow fell across her ginger pelt, Dawnpaw looked up to see Brackenpaw, his light brown tabby fur dappled with sunlight. Relief washed over her – her best friend. Maybe with him, she could push away the unsettling questions swirling in her mind.

"Ready for the hunting patrol, Dawnpaw?" he meowed, his voice bright, a welcome contrast to the gloom clinging to her thoughts.

Dawnpaw nodded, forcing a smile. She rose smoothly, licking her lips one last time. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The pang of loss remained, but the promise of a shared hunt with Brackenpaw sparked a flicker of excitement. Together, they could navigate any thicket, any challenge. Maybe for a little while, at least, the mystery of Cloudpelt's death could recede into the background.

They padded out of the camp, Brackenpaw weaving through the ferns with practiced ease. Dawnpaw followed close behind, her senses sharpening. The morning dew clung to the grass, sparkling like a thousand tiny stars. The scent of prey, a plump mouse perhaps, teased her nose from somewhere nearby.

"Think we'll catch anything?" Brackenpaw nudged her playfully.

"Always," Dawnpaw purred, her confidence returning. "Especially if we work together. Although it would help if you didn't blunder around like a lost badger!"

"Who are you calling a badger?" Brackenpaw growled playfully. Dawnpaw giggled and swatted at his ear. The pretend scowl on his face softened into a friendly smile.

They delved deeper into the hunting grounds, the thrill of the chase erasing the shadows that had clung to Dawnpaw. For now, the forest was a tapestry of scents and sounds, the excitement of the hunt a welcome distraction. Maybe, she thought, with a glance at Brackenpaw's energetic form, maybe the mystery surrounding Cloudpelt's death could wait another day. Today, there was prey to be caught, and the comfort of friendship to savor.