Disclaimer: Warriors isn't ours.
Chapter 1
Foxblaze awoke to the sun tickling his muzzle. He grumbled, turning his head and tucking his muzzle under his paw. The warmth fell on his ear now, Foxblaze blinked, the sun? He lifted his head, peering out from under his little bush. The sun shone back at him, well on its way to sun-high, it was mid-morning now.
"Fox-dung!" he cursed, lurching to his paws, he'd overslept! He'd sworn to take a short nap, just until dawn! He'd lost many precious moments; another cat could've become sick in that time.
He'd been exhausted last night, after running for most of the day and half the night he'd been stumbling with fatigue. The last time he'd been that worn was after his first tour of the territory; even Leopardwind had been tired after that trek.
Foxblaze hung his head, what would his mentor have thought? He pulled in a deep breath of air, Leopardwind's only complaint would've been he stood here feeling sorry for himself. He was a young cat, he could make up the lost time, and he could even hunt on the way. His stomach rumbled, well maybe not. He stretched quickly, heading over to the creek for a drink, hurriedly lapping up several mouthfuls of water. Swallowing the cold water he padded along the creek, hopping to spot some prey that had come to get a drink.
Leaf-bare was ending, but not soon enough and he could go for a good bit of food. A squirrel sounded good right now. Even a bitter shrew would taste delightful to him. His stomach had been eased by the water but was once more grumbling.
He paused, he could keep traveling, but he was no good to anyone passed out from hunger. He swiped his tongue over his muzzle, swerving away from the creek; let's go see what I can find.
His stalking yielded him a foolish mouse, he probably could've walked up to the thing and sat on it but he thanked StarClan for it anyway. The famished warrior devoured it with a few expert bites, before burying the bones. Leopardwind had taught him to always bury his bones, no matter where you are or how important the patrol you're on you always show respect for your prey.
Glad he'd done something that would've made his mentor proud, Foxblaze set off again, back towards the creek while walking along it. He raised his head, inhaling slightly, surely he didn't smell PebbleClan? His fur prickling he looked around, perhaps a hunting patrol? No, they would've never come this far. He must've brushed against the border last night and just caught a whiff of it. No time to groom himself, he'd just have to live with it. He set off, his trot becoming a lope and then a full sprint.
Lengthen your stride, breath in, breath out, with your strides, lengthen your stride, don't speed it up. Leopardwind's words echoed in his ears, all his mentor's training still with him. He ran with his head lowered to the wind, whiskers pulled back by the chilled air.
Mudtalon had continued travelling all through the night, until he could see the first streaks of the dawn light forming through the clouds. Around now, the dawn patrol would be being organised, he imagined that Nightpaw would be on it, along with Applefrost. Nightpaw had a great nose.
They might be wondering where he was by then, and when the dawn patrol would come back with no signs of him, and a steady scent heading upstream and away from the Clans, they'd all know where he'd gone. It was stupid of him to forget about covering his scent.
However, it seemed a little like someone else had forgotten to cover their scent, because while the scent of his own Clan had long since left his senses, he could still smell the very obvious scent of an OakClan cat. They had passed the spot not long before, maybe less than a day ago, but it meant something other than that the other Clan had a problem.
He now had competition for finding the cure, and if they got it before him then he wouldn't get any to take back for his own Clan, or more importantly, Grassfoot.
He put on a little extra speed despite the hunger in his stomach and the tiredness and worry that was making his body ache.
He really hoped he'd gotten away from camp quickly enough to avoid the sickness. Because without a medicine cat, and he was sure that OakClan's medicine cat wasn't the mysterious cure-searcher, he'd probably die because there'd be no cat who knew anything at all about herbs with him. He'd always counted on Grassfoot or Willowflight for those kind of things, and even Quailpaw had started treating some of the wounds after battles. Of course, Mudtalon had always needed continuous treatment for that scar that never stopped getting infected.
I really have to stop soon and hunt. He thought. Or I'll end up starving to death. His stomach certainly agreed with this ruling, and he stopped for a moment, scenting the air. The scent of a rabbit was upwind to him. He didn't eat rabbit much, it was a treat mainly reserved for the queens, kits and elders, occasionally the leader. But he'd caught one only the other day, so he knew he could, not like some of the older, slower warriors.
Adjusting his position, he crept up on the rabbit as closely as he could without it knowing he was there. He was covered by scrubby undergrowth, it was hardly anything at all but apparently it tasted nice to the rabbit, who was munching away and only noticed for a second that he was there, and by then it was too late to react and the rabbit was dead.
It was a light brown rabbit, small and wiry. Pity, it wouldn't make a very good meal. But he was starving and he ate it all in only a few bites.
Feeling a lot better, he turned his path back to the stream and continued along it, now following the scent of the stupid OakClan cat more than anything else.
He walked on and on and his paws started to hurt a bit, until sunhigh. And by now the scent of the cat was strong, Mudtalon could almost imagine that he could see a flash of white pelt every so often in the distance, but he was pretty sure that wasn't real.
