STHENIA :: a warriors tale

// chapter one \\

CHAPTER 1

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Milky, pale dawn light crept through the canopy of needle-like fir leaves in slants of near-white yellow. The undergrowth and forest floor was still dark, not yet lit by sunlight.

"All cats old enough to hunt their own prey, gather around to hear my words!" A loud voice cut through the chilly air. It originated from a large, thick-furred white cat, perched on a low boulder.

Within moments, the cats scattered around her camp turned their heads and formed a wide semi-circle around the powerful she-cat. Once everyone had been settled, Froststar began the meeting.

"Thundertooth, Sprucefoot and I have decided to go on a patrol and locate the cat who has been scented in our territory for the past moon. Sunstorm shall be in charge while I am gone. If we have not returned by sundown, send a search patrol." Froststar concluded with a flick of her tail.

A shiver passed down one cat's spine. His name was Mousepelt. The thought of a search patrol sent for the leader and deputy scared him.

As Froststar leapt down, Sprucefoot coming to her side, Thundertooth took a few minutes to assign the day's patrols.

Mousepelt ignored most of her words, until he heard his own name be called.

"Blossomtoe, Mousepelt, Hawkbite, Freckleface!" As the deputy called for them, all four cats padded up. "I want you four to go on a hunting patrol. Hawkbite," the tabby perked up at the mention of his name, "I want you in lead."

The patrol nodded and went in a group to camp entrance, shaking the last bits of sleepiness away before setting off.

Mousepelt drew in deep gulps of air as they left camp. His gaze scanned the prickly tree branches and undergrowth fondly. Something about his home always soothed him.

The patrol soon went down a path in the firs, and Mousepelt twitched his whiskers when he realized Hawkbite was leading them to the DewClan border.

"Hawkbite," he spoke up, the patrol leader turning to face him. "Why are we here? We're hunting, not refreshing the scent border."

"I'm well aware of that, Mousepelt." Hawkbite met his gaze calmly, then explained, "That strange cat hasn't been scented here. I don't wish to disturb Froststar's patrol."

That silenced Mousepelt, and they continued on, skirting a large thorn thicket before settling between two pine trees, where the grass grew thick.

"Everyone, split up. Meet back here once you're done hunting." Hawkbite instructed. The others nodded and all padded in separate directions, the patrol leader going away a few moments later.

Mousepelt perked his ears and parted his jaws as he crept along, slowing his pawsteps. For a while he could only smell the border only a few tail-lengths away, but then caught scent of something else; squirrel.

Dropping into a low crouch, he stalked under a bush, spotting the fluffy-tailed gray critter sitting near a tree trunk. It was occupied by a nut it had clutched between its front paws.

After a short check of the wind direction, Mousepelt crept up on it, only half a tail-length away when he sprang up from the grass and caught the squirrel between his claws.

Immediately he ducked his head and sank his fangs into its throat, twisting his jaws to snap the prey's neck. Satisfaction seeped through his bones at the crack.

Rising back up with the squirrel dangling from his jaws, Mousepelt continued through the undergrowth, burying his catch beside a fallen tree. He continued to try and hunt, but after a while without any new scents, he gave up and fetched the squirrel before returning to the meeting spot.