Sandpaw walked out to the water's edge. It was after midnight, and no other cat knew she was away from camp. She felt scared, scared she might be caught out. But she had to get a drink of water, especially in this Greenleaf. She dipped here head to the water to sip it silently, still apprehensive she might be caught out. After a while she became more confident, even though this was her first time out alone. She felt as if she needed her mentor, Whitestorm, to protect her. Nonsense, she thought, you're almost a warrior now. You don't need Whitestorm by your side. She continued drinking. After about 5 minutes, she heard a rustle of leaves a few fox-lengths away. Sandpaw instinctively went into a hunters' crouch. Eyeing the bush where the rustle came from with a throat-cutting glare. The dazzling moonlight made Sandpaw's pelt shine like the material she was named for. Her eyes glinted like pearls. But she kept her eyes on the bush. She crept slowly, silently forward. Every paw step making her more tempted to slash the intruders throat. Finally, she was less than two paw steps from the leaves of the bush. But she was bowled over by a small figure who jumped out of the bush. She yowled with surprise as they rolled to the water's edge. Sandpaw couldn't see who the cat was. But she could see that it had very big front claws, they almost looked like teeth. Suddenly they raked her belly and she yelled with pain. Blood burst from the wound, but Sandpaw bit into the cat's neck, just missing it's throat. It sprang back before she could get another bite. By now Sandpaw decided it was a rogue. She leaped at it but it knocked her back, then clawed her from her hind leg to her paw. She yelled. Sandpaw knew she couldn't win this fight. Not against this cat. She sprinted for the camp but the rogue caught up with her, bowled her over, and bit her front leg. Sandpaw suddenly realized this cat had a collar, but with teeth on it, just like its claws. The cat bit into her throat, and her hard and nervous breathing abruptly stopped. She gagged and the cat dragged her from the scruff to the river. With some strong swing it threw her into the river, and the water slowly carried her away. Sandpaw's last thoughts were of how much regret she had felt for sneaking out of the camp at night. She should've brought Dustpelt with her. Even Firepaw would probably have saved her. The water was no longer cold, yet not warm. Sandpaw's whole body was numb. Her last thought was, what will happen to ThunderClan? With that kind of cat in the forest? Then, as if she was falling asleep, her eyes closed. Not feeling pain, not feeling regret, but warmth. The last beat of Sandpaw's heart finished. And her spirit went to StarClan.