|| The Prophecies Begin || Book 1 Of 6 || Warriors fanfic

~~Chapter 23~~

Yellowfang turned and pushed her way into the bracken. Whitestorm and the others followed her.

I was tingling with excitement. I didn't feel the damp chill in the air, and my weariness was long forgotten.

Yellowfang guided us to a small hollow surrounded by thick undergrowth and pointed out the entrance to the ShadowClan camp. The tangled mass of brambles looked very different from the neat gorse tunnel that led into the ThunderClan camp. The camp boundary was full of holes and gaps and the stench of rotting meat wafted toward them.

"You eat crow-food?" whispered Graypaw, curling his lip.

"Our warriors are used for attacking, not hunting," replied Ashfur. "We eat whatever we can find."

"ThunderClan, hide in that clump of bracken over there," hissed Yellowfang. "It's full of toadstools that will disguise your scent. Wait here till you hear me call."

She stepped back to let the other ShadowClan cats lead the way, tucking herself into the center of their group as though she were their prisoner. They headed silently into the camp.

The ThunderClan cats settled themselves among the toadstools, tense and alert. I could feel my coat prickling. He looked at Graypaw and Firepaw beside me. The thick fur on the back of their neck was standing on end, and I could hear Graypaw panting with suppressed excitement.

Suddenly yowling erupted from the ShadowClan camp. Without hesitating, the we sprang from our hiding places and raced through the entrance.

Yellowfang, Ashfur, Dawncloud, and Nightpelt were in a well-trodden, muddy clearing, wrestling with six vicious-looking warriors. I recognized Brokenstar and his deputy, Blackfoot, among them. The warriors looked hungry and battle-scarred, but I could see the hard muscles pounding beneath their patchy fur.

Around the edge of the clearing, groups of scrawny cats stared uncertainly at the mayhem. Their skinny bodies seemed to recoil at the violence, while their dull eyes looked on, shocked and confused. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Runningnose back away and hide beneath a bush.

At Whitestorm's nodded signal, we ThunderClan cats leaped into the battle.

I grasped a silver tabby with my claws, but was shaken loose. I tumbled over and the ShadowClan warrior turned on me and gripped me with claws as sharp as blackthorns. I managed to twist and sink my teeth deep into the cat's flesh. The warrior's yowl told me I had found a tender spot, and I bit harder. The warrior screeched again, ripping himself free, and ran off into the bushes.

I stood up. A young ShadowClan apprentice leaped at me from the edge of the camp, its soft kitten fur fluffed up with fear.

I sheathed my claws and batted him away easily. "This is not your battle," I hissed.

Whitestorm already had Blackfoot pinned to the ground. He gave him a vicious bite and the injured deputy raced away toward the camp entrance and out into the safety of the forest.

"Moonpaw!" I heard Dawncloud screech my name. "Watch out! Clawface is—" I didn't hear the rest. A heavily built brown cat crashed into me. Clawface! I dug my claws into the ground and whirled around to fight. The warrior that had killed Spottedleaf! Rage surged through me and I flung myself onto the brown tom.

I pushed the warrior to the ground and pressed his head into the dirt. Blinded by fury, I prepared to sink my teeth into Clawface's neck. But before I could deal my death blow, Whitestorm knocked me aside and grasped the ShadowClan warrior.

"ThunderClan warriors do not kill unless they have to," he growled in my ear. "We just need to let them know not to show their faces here again!" He gave Clawface a fierce bite that sent him screaming out of the camp.