Whisper: A Warrior Cat Fan Fiction

Chapter Six: Willowgaze

She could not tell quiet where she was, but she knew she was in a great state of pain. Whether it was her leg or her chest or her muscles or her throat, or her very soul, something always burned or ached.

Her mind kept taking her to places she had never been and did not wish to go. One moment she was in complete darkness, until the scent of smoke filled the air. A bright flame appeared on her foreleg, a little flicker that turned into a roaring blaze, eating her fur and melting her flesh like frost in the sunlight as it crawled up toward her shoulder. Willowgaze yowled in shock, writhing on the ground in a vain attempt to stifle the flames. It was too late; her whole foreleg slumped off of her body, a squishy pile of fur and burned fleshy goo, leaving her shoulder stump with a shocking agony.

But then her leg was unharmed and her muscles flexed smoothly beneath her pelt. Sunlight shone through the trees as cats yowled triumphant battle cries and challenges at one other. Willowgaze bent her legs, relishing the youthful ease to the simple motion.

Her opponent appeared before her, a scared, anonymous tom who smelled of mud and rock. He snarled a challenge and she responded, punishing off with her hind legs and landing atop his shoulders, biting and clawing at whatever part of him she could find.

The tom shook her off with a flick of his shoulder, sending her flying into a patch of ferns. Mud plastered her face and she screamed as pain shot to her leg. Her entire shoulder alive with blinding pain, Willowgaze heaved herself to her feet, claws unsheathed. It had been countless seasons since her last real battle, and there was no way she would let a little leg injury like this ruin the thrill of the fight.

She leapt at the tom again, and he rushed to meet her, massive paws pounding the ground. Willowgaze turned her head, preparing for the collision, but it never came. Instead she felt her jaws being pried open as the tom forced his way into her mouth, sliding down her throat, his claws slicing her open from the inside.

She sat back on her hunches, shocked, as she frantically pawed at her chest, her opponent making her way into her lungs, shredding and tearing at her insides.

Blood bubbled up her nose, streaming down her face. When she opened her mouth, a red wave poured out, coating her paws with a sickly smooth substance. Even her eyes began to bleed, the battle scene in the forest fading as she was blinded.

But then the blood and pain and fear vanished. She stood on a rock face, high above the ocean, a warm night's breeze caressing her fur. It was dark, but by the scent of the air and the glow on the horizon, dawn was not far off. She wrapped her tail around her paws, settling down onto of the cliff. With any luck, she would have a perfect view of the sunrise.

"Willowgaze," a familiar voice said behind her ear, "hello my butterfly."

She screamed.

***

The squirrel sat nibbling a nut at the base of the pine tree.

Willowpaw flattened herself to the ground and began to creep forward, tail flicking intently. She kept downwind, her hunches tense as she prepared to pounce.

Suddenly, the breeze changed direction, gliding though her pelt and bringing her sent right toward the furry rodent.

"Fox dung," Willowpaw spat as the squirrel dashed up the pine. She was sure that Starclan had a special grudge on her; she had been hunting half the day and hadn't caught a single piece of prey. She did, however, spot Featherpaw hauling a gull and two mice through the trees and Reedpaw dragging a squirrel the size of a pregnant queen back toward camp.