I don't own Warriors. Also, be prepared for the darker side of The Pride. (Surprise, there is one!)
Chapter 35
Fox hung back, staying at the edge of camp. Storm came closer to him, and Fox darted away, avoiding the other tom. Storm looked ready to kill someone; Fox wasn't going to be the cat that got in his way.
Storm had come back from training to find Ciara and her kits missing, and since then he'd stalked around camp, snarling, yelling at anyone that came near him, his fangs constantly bared. He'd struck Forest when the Trainee had been too slow moving out of his way. The brown tom now bore four new scratches over his face, he'd been lucky Storm hadn't ripped his eye open. Fox swallowed as Storm spun away from him, tail thrashing like a snake behind him. The last traces of his old friend were gone; the furious cat that had glared at him with yellow eyes had replaced him. Fox glanced at Frost, considering which would be worse, hiding behind the white tom, or facing Storm's wrath.
Asides from Frost and Fox, the others had retreated, tucked in their den, safe from the reach of Storm's claws.
"Where's Buzzard I wonder, shouldn't he be controlling this situation?" Frost murmured, Fox felt a chill prickle down his spine, the cold tone in Frost's voice always scared him more than anything, more than Storm, more than even Buzzard's plan for The Pride. Fox was ready to run now; he could hardly blame Ciara for it. Now would be the best time, when Buzzard was distracted, Fox knew what Frost didn't, but was probably guessing, that Buzzard was attempting to repair his relationship with Dawn. Shrew's death had torn something between them, something there had changed.
Fox flattened his ears, shrinking back, away from both Frost and Storm.
Storm glared at Frost, and let out a feral half-snarl half-yowl. Fox felt the urge to turn tail and run, not stopping until he'd hit the swamps. His paws however, froze to the ground, turning to stone beneath him, betraying him by refusing to move. The fight Storm was picking would likely end in blood, and not just Frost's and his, but anyone nearby could be clawed.
Frost curled his muzzle, a frigid smirk twisting his features. His claws unsheathed, and he crouched, ready to take Storm on.
"That is enough."
Fox could breathe again, he could move again, warmth spread through his paws and he curled his paws against the dirt, his toes stirring the soil loose. Buzzard was here, he would stop this.
"Storm, it's your own fault that she left, stop picking fights." Buzzard almost matched Frost in tone, and Fox's chest tightened. His relief had been misplaced, something was about to go wrong, oh so wrong. Buzzard looked like a mix between Frost and Storm, Storm's fury mixed with Frost's ice, and Fox felt like it was a very lethal combination.
"Get out here, all of you. Now!" Buzzard snapped out the order, cats poured out of the dens they'd hidden in.
"This is a war between The Pride and CreekClan now. They have refused to leave, and Shrew died in an attempt to convince them." Fox's tail bristled, becoming bushy like the animal he was named for. He could see where this was going, and he wasn't sure he liked it.
The rest of the males and the Trainees shouted their approval. Fox glanced at the she-cats, they'd come to the same conclusion he had, remaining silent.
"As we are now at war, we need soldiers." Buzzard's yellow eyes were hard. "Moth, Sand and Patch. Step forward and chose your mates."
Moth stepped forward, Fox swallowed, knowing how old the she-cat was. Haw many litters had she borne? He could see Storm, Jay and Wave, members of three different litters, how many more did she have with no survivors?
"Frost." She meowed softly, glancing at the white tom. Fox flicked his ears, the tom was cold, and hard on his kits, but like Moth three had made it this far, though Ice, Icepaw, was gone.
Sand was a bit younger, with few litters, none that remained now, "Reed." The brown tom raised his head in surprise, he was not Pride by birth, and he probably hadn't expected to be chosen.
Fox tensed as Patch stepped forward. He'd seen her gaze on him, and glanced at Jay, hoping she'd choose the other tom instead. He was speaking softly to Wave; his sister had her ears flattened in dismay.
Someday it'll be you, and you know it. Fox thought, eyes drifting to Moon, the other female Trainee. Still too young to know. He looked back at Patch, knowing, a deep rooted knowledge, he'd been lucky this far, but his luck was running out.
"Fox."
Fox got to his paws, as did Frost and Reed. He swallowed, glancing at Buzzard; his leader's flat yellow eyes stared back.
"Are there any objections?" he asked coolly, never as cold as Frost, no one was as cold as Frost.
"Won't the kits be born too close to Snow-fall?" Jay asked, the blue-gray tom speaking up slowly. His eyes were trained on his paws, before he glanced at his sister and mother.
"They will be born at the beginning of Last-Warmth. That's three moons until Snow-fall begins."
"At best." Someone near Fox muttered, not loud enough for Buzzard to hear. Fox had a suspicion it was Forest, Reed's Trainee. Fox wasn't thrilled himself; the idea of putting kits, his own flesh and blood, through The Pride's brutal training made his flesh crawl. Would one look like his sister? Would he see yet another small orange body sprawled out, too weak to handle the training?
He stepped towards Patch, dipping his head to the she-cat. His gaze drifted over to Buzzard, the Pride leader turned and re-entered his den, not sparing a glance for his Pride mates.
"Jay, could you take Forest out for training?" Reed asked, his tail flicking eagerly.
Jay yawned, shaking himself off. "Sure, I'll take three Trainees out. Come on you three. Robin, could you come to, just to lend a paw?"
Robin blinked in surprise, before nodding, "Are you sure?"
"Someone needs to teach Wave to hunt." Jay replied, flicking his sister over the ears.
Patch shoved Fox, getting his attention.
"Sorry." He apologized, flattening his ears. He scuffled one paw over the ground, wishing he could sink into the earth. He didn't want this; he'd never wanted this-
"Fox." Patch gave him a slightly exasperated look, "Come on would you?"
Fox sighed and nodded, following the orange patched she-cat out of camp, swallowing the question on his tongue, Why me?
Sorry Fox! I feel bad for you, I do. As for his sister… well hopefully you've all read the 100 Oneshots. It's okay if you haven't but a few are CreekClan related, and Who Am I?, chapter 45, goes into details of Buzzard's mind growing up.