I've been in the mood to write a Warriors fanfic lately, so here one is. Short, but I hope you enjoy :D
It takes place in the Forest, not the Lake, by the way. Some time long before the original series, but long after Dawn of the Clans.
WindClan was normally the Clan known for swiftness. It was in the name, anyways. Lithe and lean, they were built for speed.
Webpaw could only wish for that gift as he charged across the grassy expanse. His paws were raw and sore from running, and his muscles screamed for him to stop. Every step was a weariness, but he forced himself to go on. Stopping meant certain death: not only for him, but for those back at camp. He took deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out, trying to keep himself going as wind streamed over him.
Only fox-lengths behind him were his pursuers, hissing and snarling like dogs on a scent. No, like very, very angry cats. Broad shouldered, tall, and rather scruffy, they were ThunderClan warriors intent on catching this RiverClan apprentice. But he was lighter than they were, his only advantage, and it was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment.
ThunderClan – the greedy frog-hearts that they were – and RiverClan had been warring over the Sunningrocks for moons, with neither side able to hold it for more than a few days before the enemy swarmed over them and once again marked it as their territory. For most of Webpaw's apprenticeship it had been like this, and as a kit he and his littermates had been raised to hope for victory in this war. Battle training had been more important than hunting, sharp claws rather than sleek fur for swimming. But recently there had been a lull in the fighting. Both sides were forced to stay away from the battleground to lick their wounds.
But a new bunch of warriors from ThunderClan seemed to have spurred Blazestar into action. At sunrise earlier today, Otterfoot and Splashclaw had raced back to camp yowling about a ThunderClan invasion of Sunningrocks. Quickly enough, Sunnystar had organized a battle patrol, but just before they set off to fight, ThunderClan crashed through the camp walls. The attack hadn't been an invasion off the rocks. Oh no, they had wanted to assault the camp. Webpaw could guess why. If RiverClan's camp was in shambles, then ThunderClan would be able to hold onto the rocks while they were forced to recover. Smart, but cruel. There were many queens and kits and elders, but Blazestar and his cruel deputy Shadestorm seemed not to care.
The quick-witted RiverClan medicine cat apprentice Juniperpaw had come up with a strategy to draw off ThunderClan's warriors and allow the queens and kits to escape. Someone would have to run to run toward WindClan territory, as if to get reinforcements. That cat would certainly be pursued, and perhaps draw off enough warriors to lessen the threat to camp. Webpaw had volunteered, and in the next instant he found himself tearing through the reeds out of camp, streaking away toward the gorge, and the WindClan border.
So here he was. Barely outrunning the three ThunderClan warriors in a desperate bid for time. For all he knew it was working, and that kept him going.
Webpaw barely registered the distant but ever nearing roar of the gorge in his ears, but barely. It was the largest obstacle in the path toward WindClan: he'd have to cross the twoleg bridge, then make his way to Fourtrees, and onto the moor. He prayed to StarClan that they wouldn't follow him through Fourtrees, but he didn't dare take the chance. He steeled himself up to run further and faster.
For many more heartbeats he kept going – until he stumbled on a stone. He barely saved himself from tripping, throwing his forepaws out to catch himself. He started up again, but the misstep cost him. The sound of his enemy's pawsteps was louder now, and the furious yowl of one made him know that one was right on his tail. And now one of his pads was bleeding, cut on that stupid stone.
I can't keep going like this, he thought, over the roar of the wind and the gorge. He screeched as claws grazed the tip of his tail. No, he really couldn't. But if they caught him now … They would finish him off, and head back. And things would be worse off than before: down one fighter, and ThunderClan up three warriors.
It seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few seconds, as Webpaw figured out what he needed to do. There was a small thicket of trees right on the edge of the gorge, concealing the precipice. He bet the ThunderClan warriors, intent on their quarry, might not notice.
And if they didn't …
The bridge was within sight, up ahead. The thicket to its left. He forced himself to go on, pain shooting up his scratched paw, but he refused to let it get to him. Any distraction would cost him seconds, and seconds meant life or death for RiverClan's queens.
Just before Webpaw reached the bridge he jerked to the left, charging headlong into the trees. The ThunderClan cats followed without a thought. Brief fear filled Webpaw as he tore through the undergrowth that ripped at his pelt and muzzle, narrowing his eyes -
And then they were out of the forest, off the ground, and free-falling through the air. Four terrified yowls echoed through the stone walls of the gorge. Webpaw let instinct take over, preparing for a fall, though it would do no good here.
But as he fell, relief settled over the young tom, calming his pounding heart. ThunderClan was down three warriors for certain now. Three warriors that could have changed the tide of the battle in the favor of the enemy. The queens and kits could escape safely now.
Pride and relief made a purr rumble in his throat just before he plunged into the rushing water that closed over his head.