Disclaimer: I do not own WARRIORS. Erin Hunter does.
"I'm going away for a while."
"Why, though?"
"Bluestar came to me in a dream."
Whitepelt looked frustrated. "You kmow StarClan only sends dreams to medicine cats and leaders."
"Oh? Then what about Brambleclaw?" Ratpaw challenged.
Whitepelt couldn't think of a reply.
"Told ya."
"I'm coming too. There's no telling what kind of trouble you'll get yourself into."
"Okay. Now I just have to tell Tsunamipaw."
Ratpaw spotted the silver-blue tom near the fresh-kill pile, chewing in a mouse.
"Hey," Ratpaw greeted.
"Oh-- Hi,"Tsunamipaw replied distantly.
"You sound excited."
Tsunamipaw snorted. "Whitepelt and I are still fighting."
"I'm aware of that. You really like her, don't you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Kinda."
"Just make up with her. She really likes you too, but her pride won't her apologize."
"What about my pride?"
"Do you want my advice or not?"
Tsunamipaw stayed silent.
"Look, Whitepelt and I are leaving for a few days."
"What? Why?"
"Because StarClan sent me a dream that said I should try to find a "Sharptooth" like the one that hunted the cats of the Tribe of Rushing Water."
"Yunno what? I think you're insane. But I'm coming with you, because you're my sister and I love you."
"Awww, thanks," Ratpaw meowed sarcastically.
"I'm going to apologize to Whitepelt," Tsunamipaw bounded over to the beautiful white she-cat, where she was sharing tongues with Sandstorm.
"Whitepelt!" He called. With a knowing glance to the two young cats,Sandstorm left them.
"I'm so sorry!" He began, "I was such a mousebrain."
"No," Whitepelt silenced him, "It was my fault too. Fighting between us was one of the worst thngs that's ever happened to me!"
Tsunamipaw and Whitepelt touchd noses.
"All is forgiven?" Tsunamipaw asked.
"All is forgiven." Whitepelt assured him.
Ratpaw came up. "Aww, how sweet," she teased.
Tsunamipaw cuffed her ear playfully. "We'll leave when it gets dark."
Ratpaw nodded. "I'm going to go hunt."
Ratpaw was glad for the chance to hunt alone in the woods. The first signs of Leaf-Fall were beginning to show. The she-cat heard scrabbling near a maple tree. "Maple," she whispered, "my mother."
Ratpaw pondered what her mother might have looked like. She imagined Maple with a beautiful golden-brown pelt and silver-gray eyes full of life. Ratpaw daydreamed a little more before the caw if a crow startled her awake, and she'd realized she'd lost her prey.
"Fox dung," she hissed under her breath.
A scrawny mouse scuttled into a bush on Ratpaw's starboard side. The cat stepped lightly and easily, and pounced on the rodent. She bit its neck, killing it.