Well, Kindly Kold, there are only six Warriors books… and I can't quite remember the exact book in which all that happened.
SaiTheInsaneTactican, yup, that's part of where the idea came from! I'm honored that I've this story has made it to your favorite author list!
Moon, don't smack me, don't smack me! Here's the update!
Chapter 2
"Now, now, everyone's not so good on their first hunt!" Takula exclaimed brightly behind Umbreon as his clumsy paws alerted the Pidgey he was attempting to hunt; it flew away instantly up to a high branch of the nearest tree and began to preen itself. Umbreon scowled at the bird; at least it didn't have a care in the forest. He had to put up with another futile attempt to be a normal member of the Whitefang Pack.
Pyrone's daughter and Takula's other tyro was taking a refreshing swim in the pack's lake, thoughtfully ignoring Umbreon completely. A few days ago, the young Eevee had introduced herself to him as Fern. It was the day after they met, strange forest creature to bumbling human-bred creature.
Fern seemed to be a mirror image of her mother in attitude: don't care about those who don't matter. The only thing that got Fern to listen to Takula was the fact that the Vaporeon chose the time her tyros would become full-fledged fighters for the pack. Umbreon only got attention from the young Eevee because he was different, because he was just not normal.
"Why am I even trying!" Umbreon exclaimed to himself. He didn't notice the queer look Takula gave him, "I've failed again, this has to be the fourth time!"
"Good pack members aren't quitters." Takula responded quietly, her words cutting him like daggers. "Good pack members would try and try again, no matter what. Want to prove you're a good pack member? Then try, try, try, until you succeed!"
Takula padded over to him, her look calm and pitiful. Umbreon couldn't stand it, he looked away, every pack member that didn't spit at the sight of him pitied him! "I understand how you feel, Umbreon, but pouting is not the answer. If I must, let me show you how it's done."
Another small bird had decided to land a bit farther away, a Spearow. Throwing herself into a crouch, her back end sticking up slightly, Takula moved in slowly with soft, soundless steps. She crawled closer and closer to her intended prey, until she was feet away. Suddenly, without any warning, Takula sprang on the small bird.
Umbreon forced his mouth closed as his mentor finished it quickly, returning to him with a limp, feathery bundle in her mouth. Takula dropped it at his feet and pushed it closer to him with a triumphant glisten in her eyes. "Go ahead, I don't mind."
He stared at the bird. Was this supposed to be food? It sure didn't look like it, but Umbreon hadn't eaten anything that had looked like food from the time he'd first showed up at the Whitefang Pack, five days, to now. They'd fed him forest berries, juicy yes, but strange berries. 'That's what makes you get better.' Scarfang had said to him, and it had been true.
Scarfang. The first time Umbreon met him, he had the air of a leader, a true leader. But he wasn't, as Umbreon had found out, just the pack elder. He had the status to issue orders and have them followed, but was no leader.
The true leader was a Flareon, certainly old enough for the job, being Pyrone's own mother. She was Blazewind, one of the most skilled fighters the pack had ever known. Unlike her daughter, unlike her granddaughter, Blazewind had shown Umbreon a warm and friendly welcome. She made him feel like he finally belonged, though he didn't, yet.
Umbreon couldn't lie about one thing, the pile of freshly caught food that appeared in the middle of Whitefang Pack grounds every day had attracted his attention, like a bee to a flower.
Now was his first chance to taste true forest food, which he finally took with a small nibble of a bite to the bird's belly. It tasted amazing, true words could not describe it. Umbreon picked up the pace of his eating, picking through the whole thing until it satisfied his hunger.
"Well?" Takula prompted, looking Umbreon dead in the eyes. He squirmed for a second before telling her that the bird was excellent, which seemed to be what she was waiting to hear, by the way she nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe Fern would like to join us, Fern!" She bellowed at the Eevee, who looked annoyed at the interruption in her perfectly good swim.
"Yes… ma'am?" Fern grumbled slowly as she paced over to Takula, dripping wet and looking thoroughly grumpy.
"Come now, you two should be talking to each other! You can have the rest of the day off, for a bit of bonding time." Takula exclaimed in a bright tone as she turned to head back to pack grounds, "I'll leave you alone now."
As she darted away, Fern shot Umbreon a look that seemed to say: 'I'd never want to have bonding time with a thing like this.'
Umbreon tried to be friendly; he plastered a small cat smile on his face and spoke in a friendly tone. "Hi Fern."
"Hi." She responded dully, her eyes focusing on everywhere by Umbreon.
"Nice weather, isn't it?" He continued, trying desperately to strike up a conversation.
"I guess so." Fern said in the same dull, uninterested tone. Her eyes were focused on the tree branches now; a Pidgey was roosting on a low-lying branch. She pawed over to it silently and jumped; catching hold of the branch by her two front paws and scaring the Pidgey away quickly.
Umbreon watched, slightly amused, as Fern dangled there, until she started to mew loudly. "Help! Help mommy! HELP ME!"
Her paws were slipping; slowly she lost her grip on the branch and fell… onto Umbreon's back. Fern's shivering form laid on his back for a long couple of moments before she seemed to come to her senses and rolled off. He turned to face her, rub it in her face that he had saved her but found that it was impossible when he looked at her shaking like that.
Fern's wide eyes were brimming with tears, her fur half-dry and sticking out at odd angles. A sudden movement caught Umbreon's attention though, the rustling of branches in the small bushes.
He stalked around Fern to see what was causing the movement, gently padding closer and catching a feathered scent in the air. It was the same Pidgey Fern had just tried to get, and it was a foot from his face.
It happened fast; almost as fast as when Umbreon had watched it happen. He jumped at the bird and landed on its back. When the first shock of impact wore off, it started to struggle, until he gave it a swift bite to its neck.
Surprised by his own actions, and feeling very proud, Umbreon carried the result of his first successful hunt and laid it at Fern's paws.
She looked down at it, her mouth hanging open with slight shock, then up at him. "You caught that?" Fern said in a disbelieving tone, all traces of tears gone.
"Yup. And if you don't want it, I'd gladly offer it to someone else." Umbreon responded, his eyes glinting slightly. But Fern didn't get to eat the Pidgey, because at that moment a chorus of outraged, horrified cries echoed from pack grounds.
Fern got to her feet and raced back, heading as fast as she possibly could have gone. Umbreon followed her quietly as the cries were repeated, intensified. Most of the sixty-four that made up Whitefang Pack were gathered around the clearing, all focusing their attention on one point, Scarfang.
As the pack repeated their loud, horrified cries, Umbreon caught sight of the pack elder. He was lying on the ground, the last traces of life in his body completely gone, his blood staining the ground around him. Scarfang was dead.