Red Snow (discontinued)

Chapter Eight - Thunderclan

The fluttering of wings tapped in Tornpaw's ear. Looking up, she saw a pair of sun-feathered finches soar overhead, chirping lightly to each other. She tracked their movement into the leaves of an oak tree, where the birds disappeared from sight.

Beyond the bushels of orange leaves, the sky lit the morning a harsh grey that promised winter. Tornpaw craned her head up, seeking each patch of sky between the gaps in the branches. Her paws padded carelessly over the forest floor, crushing leaves and twigs under her. A loud snort some tail-lengths away had her eyes level again. Rabbittooth burst from the undergrowth, his fur ruffled.

"You mouse-brain! I almost had that mouse, but you were making so much noise that it got away." he growled.

Tornpaw shrugged. "Sorry."

He spat. "Have you caught anything?"

"No."

The white tom looked as if he were about to burst with rage. He dug his claws into the damp ground, speaking through taunt breaths. "Then go find something. I didn't get myself up at dawn to take you on a walk. If you don't come back here soon with a piece of prey, you'll be sorry."

"Okay, okay." she said, bounding away.

Once out of range of Rabbittooth, Tornpaw slowed her gait to a leisurely jaunt. The land sloped downward gradually, almost unnoticeably, as she walked along a well-trodden trail. Brown pelts deeper in the trees betrayed the presence of a deer herd. Curious, Tornpaw launched herself at the nearest tree. Her claws gripped easily the scale-like bark, and she ascended until she could reach a branch. From her perch, she saw half a dozen doe grazing peacefully.

I wonder if any warrior has actually been killed by a deer. Eaglepaw said that Palewhisker told stories of cats being trampled by stampeding herds. Can they really be all that dangerous? Tornpaw smiled to herself. She slid down the tree trunk and trotted confidently up to the deer. She stopped a few tail lengths from the rear of one doe and creeped around her side. The doe raised her head, staring blankly at Tornpaw with huge brown eyes. The cat stilled, holding the animal's gaze. Sniffing, the doe stretched her neck out toward Tornpaw. The apprentice took in the deer's scent as well, grimacing at the earthiness of if. Seemingly disinterested, the doe went back to grazing. Huh. That didn't seem so bad. What was Palewhisker talking about?

Tornpaw headed away from the herd. As much as she'd enjoy watching Rabbittooth rage over her not bringing back prey, the sting of last night's injuries, as well as her own hunger, pushed her to find something. She quickened her pace, but trekked through the woods with learned stealth, keeping each pawstep light and silent. Tornpaw turned her head left and right, her one ear pricked for the sound of foraging wildlife. She filtered out the bird song, not wanting to tire herself in pursuit of a difficult catch. A mouse would do.

The ground beneath her grew less green. The ferns fell away, leaving bare soil exposed. Aha, the she-cat thought to herself. Redkit's Tree. Moments later, a towering tree jumped into view from behind a thicket of brambles. The ground around it was bare and blackened, and the tree itself bore a bright red hue. A dark, jagged line tore down the middle of the tree, separating its lifeless trunk into halves. The tree's branches held no leaves, and if the tales were to be believed, they hadn't for a long time.

Now, let's see if any mice are hanging around, she crouched down and approached the tree, scanning her surroundings. Tornpaw's flank brushed the bark of the burgundy trunk as she slowly placed one paw in front of the other. The wind shifted her discolored fur back, blowing toward her the scent of a juicy meal. She pricked her ear at the sound of faint scuffling on the leaf-ridden forest floor, and turned toward it. Tornpaw could see the mouse now. It was scampering over the dirt a few fox-lengths past Redkit's Tree, digging under the leaf layer for morsels of food. Tornpaw slid down into a crouch, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. When the mouse's back was to her, she launched herself forward, spraying soil out behind her. The prey froze, saw Tornpaw, then darted away. Tornpaw gave chase, and in one quick movement, caught the mouse under her extended paw. It squealed madly, fighting to escape. She bent forward and ended the struggle with a nip to the rodent's neck.