Warriors: Silent

11

      The wind outside howled and the rain pounded violently. Frostpaw was tucked in the back of her den, set stiffly in her nest, staring outside.

  Puddles filled the camp. Trees seemed to bend sideways. There was a powerful rumbling-crack-boom of thunder, followed by a startling flash of lightning, briefly illuminating the camp with an eerie glow and shadows that trembled, maybe even more than the apprentice.

  The sun had set some time ago and the moon and stars were masked by heavy storm clouds. The world felt empty.

  A black tom entered Frostpaw's sight. Crowfur was fighting the angry wind, his tail whipping violently behind him. He pushed his way into the nursery, where Frostpaw guessed he would spend the night.

  Mosspaw, several moments later, pressed into the apprentice den. The wind forced her fluffy fur against her flank, and Frostpaw almost felt amused by her friends suddenly slender shape. Almost.

  After getting out of the wind, Mosspaw shook her fur out, sending water droplets to the wall of the den.

  Even still, her fur was dripping. She had so much hair it seemed to act like moss absorbing water.

  "Sorry I'm so late," she said as she approached Frostpaw, taking a seat next to her and licking the front of her chest, "Crowfur, Whitestar, Littlepaw, and I were by the river when the storm started."

  Frostpaw lapped water from her friends pelt, pausing long enough to ask where her brother is.

  "He's bringing a fish to Needlepelt." Mosspaw replied, "It got stuck in the mud near the rivers edge, Littlepaw caught it."

  Frostpaw twitched her whiskers. Needlepelt must be lecturing the apprentice about not being an elder right about now if he brought him a meal. Bring it to the queens! I'm still a warrior!

  Another crack of thunder, and Frostpaw licked her friend faster,  desperate to keep herself preoccupied.

  It was then Frostpaw spotted the white and grey-patched apprentice approaching the den, his head low while he forced his way through the wind. Frostpaw felt uneasy, like the wind would drag the tom away. But he made it inside and worked to dry his coat upon now that he was out of the fierce downpour.

  "You're both lucky to have such short fur." Mosspaw teased, but it only sounded like she was partially kidding.

  Eventually, Littlepaw had gotten the water from his fur. And he approached the she-cats, helping Frostpaw dry Mosspaw.

  When they had, Littlepaw dragged his nest next to Frostpaw's. She felt grateful she could tuck herself between her two friends as the night boomed on.