The young she-cat was awake. She feigned sleep for a few more heartbeats, casting nervous glances around the den. It seemed like the coast was clear.
She got to her paws, slowly pulling herself from the warmth of her feather-lined nest. She stretched languidly, stifling a loud yawn.
All of the other apprentices were still asleep, she noticed. In particular, Mothpaw was belly up, lightly breathing through an open mouth. Swiftpaw was mewing, paws kicking every so often. Seeing the tom look so kittish in his sleep made the apprentice purr deeply, her ears heating up.
After another glance back, she bounded out of the apprentices' den, keeping silent.
She was greeted by cool wind outside, immediately pulling at her trim orange tabby pelt. Wide sky opened up endlessly overhead, dark blue and clear, spotted with the shining light of stars. The camp was empty of any movement, except for the occasional dust swirl here and there. She took a deep breath.
Yes. Early morning was the best time of day. It meant that she could be alone for a while, with silence and wind as her only companions. It wasn't really that she didn't like her Clanmates, or that she didn't like training or hunting with the others. She really did. She just liked the sense of tranquillity that came with the gentle whisk of the air, like a tongue combing through her fur.
"Cold, isn't it?"
The apprentice jumped in surprise. "Larkflight?" She looked around, but she couldn't find the source of the whisper.
"I'm over here." It was more of a purr now. Then she saw her.
The slender gray tabby she-cat strode into view from behind a gorse bush inside the camp, steps light as she sat herself in front of the apprentice. With her long whiskers, the warrior looked like a piece of winter sky that had fallen down to the ground.
"Oh, hi," was all the apprentice managed to blurt out. "I was just…"
"You were going to watch the sunrise, weren't you, Pinepaw?" Pinepaw was speechless for a while, until Larkflight broke into a purr. "I won't stop you. It's okay for cats to have their own little quirks."
Pinepaw looked nervous. "Stormstar won't use me for his bedding, right?"
Larkflight's eyes widened, and her whiskers twitched with amusement. "No, he wouldn't. Trust me, that mousebrain's as soft as moss."
Pinepaw blinked, stifling the rumble that was rising in her own throat. Did she just joke about Stormstar? It seemed unthinkable that anyone would crack any joke about him. The leader was strong, and notoriously light on his paws too. He wasn't moss of any kind.
A few more heartbeats passed. The warrior seemed to be wrapped up in her own thoughts now, staring blankly at the open clearing. Pinepaw curled her long tail around her paws. Perhaps she was thinking about the foxes. Stormstar had not been ashamed to tell the Clan the fact that a few lone foxes had strayed onto their territory, after the dusk patrol a half moon ago had reported so. Larkflight in particular seemed to be shaken by the news. She sighed. A half-moon was a lot of time. She hoped that it was enough for the wild beasts to have left the moors.
Pinepaw was beginning to feel the cold, so she pressed against the older cat's side. "Why are you up so early?"
Larkflight turned to gaze at her, eyes warm and glowing. "The truth is, I like the dawn too."
"Really? I never knew that."
She nodded, replying: "It's been a while." She yawned, unabashedly loud in the silent clearing. "The cold feels good now, but it's best we work ourselves a little before the sun rises, if we don't want to get frosted."
The apprentice was already on her paws, feeling enthusiasm bubble up inside her. "Of course!"
Larkflight tipped an ear before bounding to the camp entrance. Pinepaw followed on less steadied paws, nearly tripping in her haste.
She had expected the change in the wind once she stepped outside, but what she hadn't prepared for was the gripping cold that seemed to coat her pelt in imaginary ice. Her teeth began chattering. In front of her was the territory. Her home. Windblown grass, dotted with heather and gorse bushes and their sweet scent, mixed in with the scent of rabbit and thrush as well.
"It's nearing the end of leaffall." Larkflight noted. "The air's changed. It's much drier now, haven't you noticed?"
Pinepaw wasn't sure if she could. Her nose was too numb to pick out any fine scents. Flattening her ears against the cold, she became aware of how far she still had to go before making it as a warrior. She had been made an apprentice about three moons ago, but to her, it only felt like yesterday.
She closed her eyes, savouring the feel of strong wind against her pelt.
Larkflight looked up at the sky, now losing its dark, slowly turning a color like heather flowers. "You know I'm no elder, but I think I can tell you a story right now."
Pinepaw's ears pricked. "I'd like to hear it," she mewed. "It's been a while since I heard you tell me stories."
For a heartbeat, it seemed like Larkflight was lost for words. "I missed it too," she answered with a dip of her head. She quickly shook out her fur. "I suggest you do the same. It's cold out, and this story isn't going to be what you're used to. It's long."
Pinepaw was quick to follow. With a few tugs and a shake, her naturally short fur was well fluffed; it was warmer under it now. "What's it about?" She blinked up at the warrior.
Larkflight perked her ears. "It's my story."
"I thought I was going to hear about one of the great leaders or something. Aren't you just a normal warrior?"
Larkflight didn't seem to mind her words. "You'll soon find out that even a normal warrior can have a nice story."
"Okay." Pinepaw stared at her paws.
Larkflight purred, and placed a tail over her shoulders comfortingly. The wind kept swirling around them, while the long grass swayed like water in the lake in greenleaf. The last of Silverpelt was disappearing from the sky one by one, lost to a murky gray that was beginning to cover them.
Larkflight inhaled, then started: "I remember this time when…"