(Outdated) Warriors: Clouded Skies #1 - The First Storm

Chapter Fourteen

"Come on, wake up, you lazy lump!"

Rowanpaw grunted as a sharp paw prodded his skinny side, sending pain through his stomach. He forced his tired eyes open, flinching them closed as the dry air burned them. Once he was able to look around with blurry vision, he saw Birchsplash standing over him, one soot-stained paw raised. 

"Finally!" The tom snorted, then stepped back and padded heavily away. Rowanpaw sleepily raised his head and looked around, letting out a large yawn. He was extremely disappointed when he saw the sun was barely appearing over the horizon. The dawn patrol would probably just be leaving back at camp.

"We didn't go to sleep until moonhigh; why are we waking up so early?" he complained, letting out another loud yawn, then coughed uncomfortably when his dry throat cracked and burned.

"We have to keep moving," Hazelfur responded, "to keep our chests clear of this soot. Emberheart especially."

Rowanpaw looked over at his mentor as she snorted heavily. Her fur was ruffled and stained dark, and her eyes looked dry. "I'm fine, Hazelfur. Stop treating me like a kit." Despite her strong words, her voice was cracked and hoarse, and she broke into a small fit of coughing afterward.

"If you weren't so stubborn I would've made you go home days ago!" Hazelfur replied good-humouredly, her tail flicking, though Rowanpaw sensed she was covering up the truth with her playful meow. She sounded worried like she actually believed Emberheart should go home, and the apprentice silently agreed, looking at his mentor in despair.

Her stomach had started to round after they got her to eat a finch they had caught, but she was constantly coughing and she seemed to be the most affected by the sooty-air. Could it harm the kits? he thought scaredly, tail tip twitching. No, they're fine. Emberheart needs the prey. They had only been on the journey for about five days, but they had been eating better, though it came at a price. Their pads were raw, their throats were burning, their eyes dry, and the air was thick and hard to breathe in. He doubted many of his Clanmates would be able to hunt here, especially if they had to jump over the sparkling pebbles at the entrance of the Twolegplace and climb the fallen den. Rowanpaw didn't even know how they would get out.

"Come on, let's start moving!" Birchsplash sounded cheery despite the hoarse sound in his throat and the dry cough he gave after he spoke, though he still stayed high, padding from the small place they had settled for the night in between two Twoleg dens, hidden behind tall shiny, cold silver rocks that were stained black in most places. 

"Hopefully we'll find something to eat." Rowanpaw groaned at the thought of fresh meat in his belly. He had taken the least amount of prey during their journey so far; only a soot-stained mouse two days before. Hazelfur and Birchsplash had shared two mice, and a young rabbit. Emberheart, on the other hand, had been given two mice, the mother rabbit of the one her littermates ate, and a finch. Altogether, it was the almost the same amount of prey the whole Clan shared every quarter moon. How does this place have more prey than our territory? he thought sadly.

"Rowanpaw, you coming?" Hazelfur called, and he looked up to see the group already on the Thunderpath, tails flicking in wait.

"Just give me a heartbeat to wake up!" he snapped, grumpy that he was being rushed, and Hazelfur gave a snort but didn't say anything. After he had stretched out his legs and back, he shook out his coat then padded to his mentor. "I'm here, so let's go."

"Well, somebody's a grumpy mouse!" Birchsplash purred with amusement, then broke out in a coughing fit. Hazelfur held back her own purr, choking on her dry, cracked tongue. The she-cat flicked her tail then started down the Thunderpath, with her littermates right behind them. Rowanpaw took up the back, taking a quick glance behind him. The pine tree tops had faded from sight, replaced with rows and rows of burnt Twoleg dens, showing nothing of the only home he knew.