Disclaimer: Do I own warriors? Is Dustpelt a nice and polite cat? Is Squirrelflight calm and collected? No? There you have your answer.
Author's note: Longpaw is NOT Longtail. Sorry for any confusion, but Longpaw's the first name that popped into my head. This was originally written for a short story contest in one of the sites I go to. Which is why this is short.
Might or might not edit. Depends on my mood.
The young tomcat padded quietly through the undergrowth. His brownish tabby pelt blended well with the forest all around him. Longpaw of ThunderClan was hunting.
Beside him, a much larger calico tom also prowled, his amber eyes darting from side to side. "Step lightly now, apprentice." The older tom meowed. "Lightly and silently."
Longpaw's ears twitched. "I know, Whitepatch." He hissed, even as he followed his mentor's instructions to perfection. The young tabby apprentice would impress his mentor. He would be known as the greatest among ThunderClan.
"Lightly now." Whitepatch meowed again, his voice barely heard by Longpaw. The young apprentice shifted slightly. Lightly now...
"I know." Longpaw repeated, more firmly this time. Why were the words echoing through his head, even when Whitepatch wasn't speaking?
Lightly now...
Sight, smell and hearing were all intensified. The brush of a falling leaf against his thick tabby pelt sent tingles through his body. Longpaw shivered. Was that what a warrior experienced everyday? Did he even want to complete his apprentice training now?
And yet, these sensations were...good. It felt as if he was living, for the first time. Truly living. It was as if the things he had experienced before was only a shadow of what the forest was truly like. Perhaps being a warrior was not a bad thing.
Lightly now...
"Stop it..." Longpaw murmured, the fur on the back of his neck bristling. "You're distracting me..."
The young apprentice sensed rather than saw the concern on Whitepatch's face. "I didn't say anything." Longpaw's mentor meowed softly.
Lightly now...
"Then who...?" Longpaw trailed of uncertainly. For the first time, he felt fear, real fear, sweep over him, making his fur rise. He shook his head, trying to clear off the uncomfortable feeling. This was his hunt. Not his mentor's. And certainly Longpaw would not be distracted by some strange voice calling to him.
Lightly now...
There, just ahead. The quiet scrabbling sounds of a mouse, searching for food. Longpaw lowered himself into a crouch, padding forward stealthily, light on his paws.
A dry twig suddenly snapped. The rodent looked up, an expression of alarm on its features as it dropped its meal, streaking away. Cursing his ill luck, Longpaw abandoned all thoughts of stealth and sprang forwards, giving chase.
"Longpaw! Watch out!"
The young apprentice thought he heard Whitepatch call out. But it didn't matter. The mouse was in range. Longpaw sprang forwards, his long legs propelling him onto the mouse. But something was wrong. The ground was hard and rocky, and an acrid smell hit his nose.
It didn't matter. He had caught his first mouse. This was his moment of triumph.
Well done, my son...
The monster was so big, so red, as it thundered towards the young apprentice with a dead mouse hanging from his jaws.