Welcome to the sixth edition of the WattyWarriors Fan Magazine; a magazine where you can find recommended authors of warriors fan-fictions, short stories, and even contests! If you are looking for some good fan-fictions, this is the place to be.
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Ivyfur could feel her paws dragging ever so slightly as she trekked along the back of the border patrol. Her eyes were on the soft floor of the pine forest, watching the blades of grass that poked through and the beds of golden nettles that littered the earth.
"Ivyfur, you're lagging behind! Come on, slug!" She glanced up just barely. The golden pelted Yarrowlight was had paused mid-step to cheerfully give a purr. Ivyfur glanced up slowly with a small breath. It doesn't matter. What's waiting at the border? Nothing. There's nothing. Maybe we'll run into some ThunderClan cats, but in the end they'll walk away and we will too. I want to go back to camp. This is pointless. The black she-cat glanced away, back down to the earth without a reply, but still continued on. Yarrowlight lost the small spark of energy, his golden eyes instead hardening slightly in thought.
"Come on you two. We're nearly at the border." Yarrowlight started walking again as the night-pelted warrior caught up.
"So, Kestrelkit and Hawkkit are becoming apprentices soon, do you think Juniperstar might pick you to be a mentor?" Ivyfur blinked slowly, flicking her tail.
"No." I hope not. They don't deserve me. They deserve a cat like Yarrowlight. Bright and encouraging and good. I'm none of those things.
"I kind of want to be a mentor at some point--"
"Yarrowlight, over here, come check this scent please. I think it may be ThunderClan, but it smells too much like rain and Thunderpath; I don't want to make any accusations yet." The patrol leader, Newtcall, stood tall and stark against the top of a small dip in the earth between their territory and the Thunderpath that marked the border. Yarrowlight nodded, skipping ahead to catch up to the tortoiseshell she-cat.
The sky was gray and shrouded with clouds. Ivyfur watched the pale dove colored sky, a few silhouettes of birds flitting above before diving back to a tree. Somewhere above her head the sun was hiding behind the thick swath of clouds. She watched Yarrowlight check the scent where Newtcall was waiting, and he shook his head.
"Probably not. We could wait for them to see if they try to cross the border," he shrugged. "Ivyfur, what do you think?" The light golden-ginger tabby tom looked down at her from the top of the dip. She breathed, turning slightly.
"Do whatever you want." She murmured after a moment. Yarrowlight was quiet, and Newtcall watched her carefully, both with dark eyes.
"Ivyfur... are you still grieving...? It's... it's been a few moons...." Newtcall started gently, but Ivyfur turned completely around to face away from the pair.
