Ok, this is my first Warriors Fic, so please try to read it with an open mind; as this writing style still feels a bit awkward to me. Also, I had not beta, so bare with me.
"But he's not even a softpaw yet!" cried Thistle, mortified. "He's still a kit, barely able to leave the nursery!"
Some of the many cats gathered around the pool yowled out with agreement, while some snarled their dissaproval.
It was utter chaos, and no-one was making any effort to calm it.
"Silence!" Howled their leader, his barotone easily carrying over all the other voices. "Our Warrior Ancestors have spoken to me, and they tell me that there is no other way. We are loosing faith in them, and therefore, our only means of communicating with them."
"If our supposed 'Great Warrior Ancestors' have nothing better to do than amuse themselves by sealing the future's of innocent kits," Thistle announced boldly, "then I want nothing more to do with them!"
Shocked silence seeped through the crowd. Every pelt prickled with anticipation. How their leader respond to such an accusation?
He closed his eyes and inhaled to speak, but then a small, shrill voice rang out over the clearing; one that was not his own.
"There is no other way." murmurred a tiny gray kitten, stepping forward so his blind eyes shone with the reflection of the moonlight on the pool. "Our Warrior Ancesstors have spoken to me as well. This is my destiny, and I intend to follow it, no matter what sacrfices I may have to make."
Thistle shifted uncomfortably, "My love, I don't think you underst-"
"Oh, but I do understand, mother." the little kit interrupted, "Better than any cat gathered here tonight. I must do this so that we may all continue to live under the guidance of our Warrior Ancestors. This is all we have had to live on, their instruction, and I don't intend to let it slip away on my account. I understand completely and I will not deny my fate. I shall answer my call."
"But-" Thistle tried again.
"If not this, then what shall become of me, mother? I could never be a great leader like Cliff."
Now it was their leader's turn to shift uncomfortably.
"Nor could I ever become a Sharpclaw, and serve my Tribe as a Warrior. No, my lack of sight has crippled me beyond repair, and I am nigh but a burden to you all." He gazed out among the cats with unseeing blue eyes.
But he knew, without having to see them crumple under his blind stare, that they agreed. He knew.
"I will go to the caves tonight; and it is my prediction that I shall not ever return."
Thistle bowed her head in defeat, "It is your choice, I suppose. But if it is what you believe you must do, go then. I will forever be proud to bear your name as my son, even if we do not agree on what is expected of you."
Not wanting to allow her to convince him to stay, with that, the tiny kitten turned and left the clearing; turning his back on all he had ever known.
As he raced down the slope toward the cave entrance, a million thoughts churned through his mind.
Why me? I am just a kit, barely four moons old. Why not Cliff, our great and fearless leader, who seems to have an answer to everything? Why not one of the many other great Warriors his Tribe hade to offer? But there was no turning back now, he knew this full well.
Slowly, he felt the ground beneath his paws harden and abruptly curve downward, The air suddenly grew stale, and he knew he had reached the mouth of the cave.
A gentle breeze trickled out, carrying with it a thousand ancient voices all whispering one thing; Rock, you have come. Come.
"Yes," he replied, "I have come."
He inhaled deeply, and dove headfirst into the blackness. It swallowed him whole, never to release him again.
Waddaya think? Please review!