Chapter one up! I intended to post this earlier, but currently, I'm out of town with bad wifi and little access to internet, so this was delayed. Also, because of that, this chapter was rushed and all so it isn't very good. Again, please lend a helping hand in the reviews on where to go next with the story and perhaps things I could change to make it better. I really need these reviews to make my writing better, so pwease?
Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. I google myself, and nobody knows who I am. If I wrote Warriors, I'd be famous.
"Mouse dung!" Rainpool cursed as her paws missed the rabbit she had chased all over the moors. She bared her teeth at nothing in particular, thoroughly annoyed at her hunting skills that day. Peering over a stretch of grass, she could make out the sleek shape of Heatherpaw pouncing on a rabbit, and the loud yowl of triumph that rang out, signalling a successful catch.
Rainpool clawed at the kitten-soft grass in annoyance. To make matters worse, her close hunting partner Hailstrike didn't miss this opportunity to make a cutting remark.
"I'm seriously wondering right now whether I was just dreaming during your warrior ceremony, or if you were actually made a warrior. Sorry," she added shrinking back at Rainpool's piercing gaze, "but I think we both witnessed Heatherpaw make that catch. And seriously, come on, sulking isn't going to catch prey is it?"
Rainpool snapped back into attention as a fresh scent of rabbit made its way through her jaws. She and Hailstrike set off again along the moors, breaking into runs occasionally to hunt down prey. The hunt went much better after that little episode, both of them mercilessly ending the lives of many rabbits and voles. In their minds, GrassClan would go to sleep with full bellies.
"Well, I'm sure your stomach will thank you for cheering up because you were no good for catching prey while you were pouting," Hailstrike pointed out before picking up her heap of fresh kill. Rainpool gave a friendly flick of her tail as they padded back to camp, their mouths full to the brim with fur and flesh.
As they were padding back, Hailstrike tipped her head to the sky, and inhaled, trying to taste the air despite the bunch of rabbits clamped between her jaws. Her eyes became wide as a scent drifted in through her mouth (Rainpool couldn't see how Hailstrike could smell anything with her mouth full of dry fur). Rainpool tried mirroring Hailstrike's actions, but all she could smell was the overwhelming tang of rabbit.
"Wsh ooo!" Hailstrike warned Rainpool, her tail pointing to the sky. Rainpool stared at her friend quizzically. Whatever Hailstrike had been trying to warn her about, Rainpool hadn't understood a word of it. Her muffled speech sounded like the gibberish that Twolegs emitted, and Rainpool purred with laughter as she imagined her friend tall and monstrous, with a pale pink pelt and only two legs, and fur emerging from her head. The closest image the silver warrior could muster was one of a shaggy bear. Even those were much better looking than the hairless, pale Twolegs.
Deep in thought, she missed Hailstrike signal above to the approaching shadow. But, as a shadow floated above them, Rainpool jerked her head up, and saw what she thought was a bird- not just the small scrawny things the ThornClan cats ate- no, this was majestic and proud, its wings the span of half the GrassClan camp, and wicked talons that could tear a cat's flesh with one strike.
Rainpool flattened herself onto the ground, silently praying that her pale silver fur wouldn't stick out against the bright green grass.
The flying creature swooped down, and rose back up, hooting angrily as its prey vanished into the grass. The young warriors emerged, their pelts bristling and tails lashing furiously. With a look, all their feelings were exchanged, the fear that was flowing from them, the curiosity spiking from their spine, the awe casting an invisible aura, and they needn't have said another word about it to one another. However, their Clan needed to know about this bird.
As they entered the tall grasses that sheltered the GrassClan camp, the two warriors experienced a nasty surprise. Hailstrike drew in a sharp breath as the medicine cat, Sheeptail emerged with the scruff of Breezestar in his jaws.
Rainpool watched nervously too, praying silently to StarClan that Sheeptail would heal Breezestar well. Sheeptail was a bitter and partial medicine cat, slowing down recoveries for cats he didn't like just because a leg deformation had prevented him from becoming a warrior.
"It's a good thing Breezestar has been on my good side," growled the old medicine cat, "He tried his best to give me a good future, and for that, I will try my best to give him a fast recovery. But you leave me to my business. I don't want you maggots peeping into my den, or you'll regret it. And Breezestar will too."
Rainpool let out a breath. This sort of attitude from Sheeptail was only on his better days, when he felt like being nice. On any other day, with any other cat, she was sure Sheeptail would have made their recovery as slow as possible, if at all. But something else bothered her. What exactly hurt Breezestar? She was almost certain it was that large winged creature that she had nearly become dinner for. A senior warrior, Hollytail, confirmed her suspicions.
"A large bird attacked camp. Not those tiny ThornClan birds- this was as large as five of us head to tail- and that was only one wing. I don't think it wanted to kill all of us, it just wanted Breezestar for fresh-kill. Honeystep and I latched on to Breezestar and tugged down. We got him away from those wicked claws of it, but by doing so, we had to tear him away from its grip and it cut him deeply. He lost a life, but Sheeptail seems to be in one of his better days , and I hope he'll make Breezestar better," Hollytail rambled.
Rainpool shuddered. She had only seen those claws from far away, and even then, she knew they were wider than an apprentice. She remembered the time when she had gotten a thorn stuck in her pad as an apprentice. That pain seemed to flow through her veins, not only in her pad, but in every nook and cranny of her thin, lithe body. And that thorn, it was just a small nuisance compared to that talon. Rainpool prayed that she would never have to experience one of those jagged talons driven into her paw. She could only hope that Breezestar stayed unconscious until the pain had passed.
Breezestar is lucky to have nine lives thought Rainpool with a faint touch of jealousy. She didn't need a prophecy from StarClan to know that no other cat would have survived those wounds.
Suddenly, a thought struck the silver grey tabby that made her blood run cold- If that bird ate cats for fresh kill, what will stop it from coming again?
