//Olivestem's Warning//Warrior Cats//

//Chapter One//

𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓽, 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓶𝓷 𝓫𝓵𝓪𝔃𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓸𝓭.

~𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓷 𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓽 𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓸𝓷

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The days neared leaf-fall. Furled, brittle leaves wafted their way into camp and crackled underfoot. Prey started to hide in the nooks and roots of trees, or deep within their burrows. Perhaps they were safe from the cold to come, but the clans were ever vulnerable to the harshness of the frosty days.

Olivepaw shifted in her nest, unable to find comfort within the dry moss. Though feathers were draped around the sides, she couldn't drift off into a slumber, and blinked her eyes open against the polar-white dawn seeping in through the cracks.

Beside her was her brother, Falconpaw, snoring soundly. A twinge of envy flashed through her at his easy sleep.

She heard the deputy, Fallenstrike, snapping out patrols to the majority of groggy-eyed cats, only a few amount of felines fully awakened and attentive to their duties. Behind his commands were the quavering lullabies of wrens and starlings, each unique in their own song.

There was a flurry of dark grey fur as her mentor burst in, sides heaving. Pigeonstream looked out of breath, as if he was in a hurry. "Get up! We're going on a border patrol, so I suggest you grab a piece of prey and make haste," he demanded, whisking his tail and disappearing out of the den once more.

It took all of her willpower to not to let a laugh escape her mouth. The tom often liked using sophisticated phrases and sentences, so most of the time he just sounded like he had bees in his brains. Olivepaw groomed herself with brief laps of her tongue, then ducked out of the apprentice's den, leaving Falconpaw to deal with his mentor's scolding himself.

The golden she-cat flounced over to the fresh-kill pile, picking up a scrawny mouse and finishing it with a couple of bites. Her hunger wasn't exactly sated, but she had enough energy to last at least until sun-high. Fallenstrike directed her to the entrance with the rest of the patrol as soon as he spotted her, and she went over to greet the others.

Elmcloud, and his apprentice, Pebblepaw, were to join them. Hazelfoot was coming along as well, and she wondered if it was a mistake to bring such a large patrol. Then she shook her head, knowing not to question Fallenstrike's orders. "Hey Pebblepaw," Olivepaw mewed.

Pebblepaw turned to face her and the expression on her face brightened. "Hi Olivepaw! We're going to the WindClan border today to check if those lanky rabbit-chasers have done anything suspicious," the pretty silver apprentice explained, looking at Elmcloud for confirmation.

He gave a tiny nod. At that moment, the silky-furred calico pelt of Hazelfoot dashed over. She panted. "Sorry, had to get Sleetwhisker off my tail," she meowed sheepishly, looking over her shoulder at her mate.

"No problem at all. Shall we set off now? The hike to the border will take some time especially," Pigeonstream questioned, beckoning to the rest of the patrol.

"Yeah. Let's go," Elmcloud muttered, obviously trying to hide the fact he wasn't fond of Pigeonstream's exquisite vocabulary.

Olivepaw purred, drawing her tail over the warrior's flank. "He can be a real pain in the behind," she reckoned.

Elmcloud nodded mutely, seemingly not responding to her touch.

She pushed forward as the patrol bounded off. Olivepaw looked down at herself in surprise, finding that though she had been training for two moons already, couldn't keep up at her pace. For every one stride that Pigeonstream took, she had to bounce two, and cursed her small frame.