So That You Won't Be Forgotten: These are the tales of the dead apprentices and elders, and everyone inbetween. I am commemorating each cat with their own chapter, honroing them so that hopefully, they shall be remembered and never forgotten.
The first one is to Shrewpaw of ThunderClan, and the first and fifth reviewers get a Shrewpaw plushie.
Disclaimer: If I owned warriors, Shrewpaw would have lived to become Shrewfang and not been hit by a monster.
It was freezing cold in the forest and in more than just one way. It was cold-hearted and numb in every mind of the warrior clans as the forest they knew as their home slowly died around them, crushing their once-joyful spirits. But some, some managed to find a way to live, a way to hope. The warrior clans tried to live in the world that was tumbling down around them.
A small ThunderClan patrol was prowling down the edge of the noisy, black thunderpath, seperated from one another, trying to sniff over the reek of twolegs and their monsters to scent any living prey. They were mostly unsuccessful, as much of the prey that hadn't been killed from the twolegs destruction of the forest was hiding from all the noise and havoc. One particular apprentice had scented prey, and the mouth-watering scent made his empty stomach growl loudly. He was starving just like any cat, but he knew that the clan went first before himself.
He opened his jaws and tasted the twoleg-contaminated air. The prey-scent was one of a rodent. A warm, live rodent. A deeper, concentrated inhale revealed that it was a pheasant. The dark brown tom's amber eyes lit up. A tasty pheasant for Ferncloud and Frostfur. He knew he would catch it. He had to.
His dark amber eyes saw the long brown rodent hidden among dying ferns and bracken. He took a careful pawstep forward, then another, slowly creeping up on his unware prey. His ears were pricked forward for any other cat's movement and his dark eyes were focused on the pheasant. His small paws hardly made a noise as he lightly stalked up to the vole-like creature. He pounced a mouse-length too early, startling the pheasant by landing just behind it.
It sat up and then ran, dashing away quickly from the ThunderClan apprentice. The dark brown apprentice hissed crossly before chasing the escaped prey, following hard on its paws. He wasn't watching where he was running. He was focused intently on catching this pheasant and that was all that mattered to him. ThunderClan was dying. He wasn't going to let this healthy, big pheasant go to waste.
He was almost there. He could almost taste the pheasant in his jaws and the warm, coppery taste of blood in his jaws as his sharp teeth bit into flesh. He pushed himself to go faster. He would not lose this prey! He had to catch it, for the starving cats. Feeding the clan was the only thing important to him right then. His mentor was far behind him, but when Thornclaw saw the pheasant that would feed a bunch of cats he would be so proud of him.
He didn't even notice as the ground turned from muddy soil into hard, rocky gravel of the Thunderpath in his pursuit of that pheasant. It was raining now but he didn't notice the water soaking into his pelt, making him chilled to the bone as his narrow muzzle reached forward to roughly snatch the pheasant of the ground. He missed it by a whisker. He leaped again to grab it, positive that this jump would finally bring that naughty pheasant down. He heard no other sound except the blood roaring in his ears and his own small oak-colored paws pounding the tough path.
Wham! Crunch! The apprentice was slammed into by a huge twoleg monster, snapping his neck forcefully on impact. There was no time for the Thunderclan warrior-to-be to see his short life flash before his amber eyes, or to think a last farwell to his clanmates. There was, in slow motion almost, runnning, leaping, a sickening crunch as bones broke in his small neck and then total darkness, deeper than any abyss. The small dark brown apprentice with amber eyes was sent flying to the side of the thunderpath as the twoleg monster drove on, not noticing the life it had ended brutally. Blood poured from his neck and a fractured bone jutted out. The crimson blood was washed into the soil as the cold rain hailed down on him.
He didn't get to say good-bye or ever fight his first battle, never feeling enemy cat fur rip beneath his claws. He never fell in love with a pretty she-cat and get to feel the pride as his own sons and daughters became warriors. These things were never experienced by innocent Shrewpaw of ThunderClan.
Shrewpaw of ThunderClan; son of Ferncloud and Dustpelt; brother of Spiderleg, Birchfall, Foxleap, Icecloud, Larchkit, Hollykit; nephew of Ashfur; apprentice of ThunderClan and now StarClan, may your body rest in peace in the Forest, may your spirit always walk among the stars in the sky of our ancestors and may you always be remembered and never forgotten. Your death was one of selflessness, only trying to help your Clan. You died so cruelly when you were still so small and young, never living life to the full, but to the extent that you took the law of "living by the warrior code, even at the cost of your life" to the word is something the warriors of ThunderClan will always cherish. You are a warrior at heart. I will never forget you, Shrewpaw, or the service you provided for ThunderClan.
What did ya'll think? If it was good, who's should I do next? If it was bad, how can I fix it? Encouraging reviews and constructive critizism are happily accepted. Flames are useless and used as garbage. Thanks to those who will encourage with reviews.
Leopardheart