The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

6. The Prisoner

The massive nest was warm, as was all of the den. Raspy breathing came from Echopaw's right while a faint snore came from her left. She pushed herself closer to her right and sighed comfortably, relaxing. She could feel Clearwhisker's body heave against her and his paw gently pat her shoulder every so often. She had huddled up against her mentor, just as she did every night that she fought against a bad dream.

The dream had been short and simple, but it had chilled her to the bone. She had seen a single cat with singed fur and sliced flesh, burned skin stretching along his back. She had watched as he turned to face her, and blood had dropped from his jaws as he gurgled in pain.

So she had crawled into Clearwhisker's extra large nest, made for an extra large, old cat, and curled up against his side and buried herself in his long fur. She hadn't woken him; it would take the roar of a thousand monsters to wake him in the middle of the night. Besides, she was certain that he was used to her seeking refuge.

"Foxdung," grumbled a voice. Echopaw raised her head and blinked twice. Her vision was blurry, her forehead feeling heavy with after-sleep grogginess. Shadowclaw was awake and sitting up, inspecting his leg with angry green eyes. "Stupid hawk."

What hawk? Echopaw pushed herself up and opened her jaws into a massive yawn, her teeth clacking as she closed her mouth. "Good morning."

Shadowclaw looked up, his eyes glowing for only a moment in the darkness. "It's past sunhigh."

How are we all sleeping?

"Can I go out and get some air?" Shadowclaw questioned.

Echopaw glanced nervously at Clearwhisker. What would he do? The old cat twitched and stiffened, growling in his sleep, and then he went limp again. Echopaw turned back to Shadowclaw. "I guess so. Just be very careful on that leg. Don't strain it or anything."

The tom gave a faint nod and pulled himself out of his nest, then crawling out of the den through the sloping tunnel. Echopaw climbed away from her mentor as well and stretched, arching her back. She looked back at the gray cat again and listened to his strangled breathing, her heart wrenching. Sure, she loved Goldstreak and Stormstripe as her parents, but she held a true connection with Clearwhisker.

He's a father to all of us.

Her stomach growled most ferociously, and she shoved herself up the tunnel and emerged from the dim cavern. Her blue eyes burned in the light, and she held her head down as she fluttered her eyes and adjusted to the change of sight. Finally, her pupils were properly contracted, and she was able to guide herself to the side of the cliff. She yawned again, and then yawned once more, and she began to groom herself.

I wonder how Scorchpaw and Palepaw are.

It was as if a magical spell had been cast over the forest. When Echopaw looked up, she found herself face to face with her good friend, who blinked his brilliant green orbs and dropped a scrawny squirrel in front of her. He sat and curled his tail about his paws, flicking his one unscathed ear.

Palepaw purred enthusiastically. "I thought you'd be hungry. It's not like you to sleep so late."

Echopaw eyed the squirrel for a moment. They weren't her favorite kind of prey, but it was something to put an end to the agitated mumbles of her hungry stomach. "Thanks," she replied, somewhat hoarsely. She cleared her throat. "Er- where's Scorchpaw?"

"Redwing took him out training, against yours and Clearwhisker's orders from yesterday, I'd like to add. She came back just a little while ago though, but he's still out in the forest," Palepaw explained. Echopaw's eyes grew wide.