The young she-cat was pressed up against the thick wall of reeds. She was trapped like prey. The predator stalked towards her, eyes gleaming wildly, fangs gnashing hungrily.
"Why me?" She whimpered, digging her claws into the swollen earth.
The ginger tomcat towered over her. He leaned down and pressed his nose to her soft, fluffy cheek. She could smell the rotting fish on his breath.
"Oh, Lavenderpaw," he croaked with a cheery tone, "You are the prettiest kitty of them all."
"W-what?" She was stammering as her creamy fur bristled on its end.
The old tom purred hoarsly and forcefully clutched the apprentice with his scraggly claws. While she yelped, he slammed her down to the ground, tangling her lovely pelt in the process. He cackled like a victorious fox.
"You remind me of my mate," he laughed cruelly.
"Please!" She begged. "Don't hurt me!"
He dug his claws into her shoulders while hissing, "Oh, I won't hurt you. But I shall say this again: if you don't do what I say, I will hurt you in ways that will never heal. I'll give you scars."
Lavenderpaw looked up at Perchstar with her snowy eyes. She gasped for air.
"Not Chervilpaw," she pleaded, "You can hurt me, post-pone my ceremony, ground me to camp for a season. Just don't hurt my brother!"
"It'll be easy," the tom snarled, "Like snapping a twig."
She could feel her muscles knotting up beneath Perchstar's weight. "Fine," she squealed helplessly, "I'll do it."
Relief filled her paws as the tomcat heaved himself off of her. She hopped up onto her paws, keeping her ears flat.
"Good, kitty," he chuckled, "You already know what to do."
She nodded meekly. "Sunningrocks, half moon."
Perchstar purred hoarsely. "Right."
He began walking out of his dank den. He glared at her from over his shoulder. "If you don't catch that prey, I'll have your brother's throat plastered all over the reedbed."
The ginger tabby laughed at her horrified face. He padded away towards his warriors while Lavenderpaw dashed away across camp towards a mat of bramble.
She pushed aside the cracking reeds and found a skinny white-and-gray tomcat snoring soundly on a soft bed of sedge husk. His crooked leg was propped up on a bundle of moss.
Lavenderpaw sighed in relief and sat down beside him. She ran her tongue along his matted pelt.
"Oh, Chervilpaw," she whispered, "I'll keep you safe. I'll do whatever it takes."
His pale eyes fluttered open. He looked up at her purring, "Talking to yourself?"
The she-cat flattened her ears. I wish.