Red Snow (discontinued)

Chapter Twenty-Two - Riverclan

Pebblestride turned in his nest, covering his nose with a paw as a harsh gust of wind blew into the den and sent a cold blast rushing over his fur. Outside, he could hear the howling as the gale swept through the sky. He lifted his head, teeth chattering. In front of him, Jaggedspirit was looking out into camp, worry glistening in her eyes. 

"The hunting patrol should be back soon." she said, though Pebblestride wasn't sure she was talking to him. 

"Jaggedspirit?" he called for her attention. 

The tabby she-cat started and looked back at him. 

"Oh, you're awake. Hey." she greeted. 

"You okay?" he asked. 

"Yeah. I'm just worried about Reedtooth. He went hunting this morning with Hailflame and Bravesong. But it's getting so cold. They might freeze out there."

Pebblestride stood and moved closer to Jaggedspirit, seating himself in Reedtooth's nest. "Reedtooth will be fine." he assured. "He can make it through anything with the amount of trouble he's had to pull himself out of."

Jaggedspirit chuckled. "Yeah, you're right. I just want him to come home safe."

Pebblestride laid his tail on Jaggedspirit's flank. "He will. He always does."

The tom heard a yawn from behind him and saw Tawnyears looking at him from a couple nests away, a knowing look on his face. The elder cat glanced between Jaggedspirit and Pebblestride and raised his eyebrows. Pebblestride rolled his eyes. 

The wind had lessened by the time Reedtooth, Hailflame, and Bravesong staggered into camp. Other warriors came to their side and guided them toward the den. Pebblestride, who was standing across camp with Rushpaw at his side, watched Jaggedspirit press her pelt against her brother's and take him into the den to warm up. Creektalon slid out of the warrior's den as the half-frozen cats came in, looking to be in a foul mood. Pebblestride watched as his brother made his way to the fresh-kill pile to investigate the patrol's catch. Heronstripe was already there, taking the single water vole by the tail. Creektalon said something, hackles already raised, and Heronstripe lowered his ears, snapping back. 

"Come on, Rushpaw, let's see what's going on." he instructed, trotting toward the two arguing cats. 

"This vole is going to Skyfeather. She needs it to remain strong." Heronstripe growled, tugging the prey away from Creektalon. 

Creektalon snarled, tail lashing. "Some of us haven't eaten in days because we can't fish in the river anymore. Skyfeather can miss one meal."

Affronted, Heronstripe put his paw over the vole, claws out. "Have you forgotten our code? Elders and queens eat first. I haven't eaten in a while either, but Skyfeather is the most vulnerable out of all of us. She must be healthy for the kits."

Pebblestride saw movement out of the corner of his eye, stilling when Slatefang came to his side. The pale warrior said nothing, his gaze trained keenly on the brothers. 

Creektalon growled, then pounced at Heronstripe. Pebblestride called out, but Slatefang jumped in between the two warriors before the tabby could move. He tackled Creektalon to the ground and shoved him away from Heronstripe, who was hunched over, bleeding from one ear. Icy breaths circled his white muzzle as he panted. 

"You're so selfish!" he yowled at Creektalon. 

The tom came to his paws, fury blazing in his eyes as he stared back at Heronstripe. Then, silently, he padded out of camp. Slatefang raised his head, the tail of the water vole in his jaws.