Shadowpaw: The Lonely

by EruditeRavenclawRiverClan

Shadowpaw. He wouldn't have this name for long. He was loyal, sure. He was skilled, definitely. But what about the other end of the spectrum. His control. His conformity. That's something Shadowpaw never had, and no one knows about...until now. Follow the story of a legend who built his fame off of something more than just good, or fair. Something dark, twisted, and bloodstained.

12. Chapter XI

The sun dipped below the horizon, scattering bloodred light around the shadowy camp. Training had just wrapped up for the day, and Jay and Crow, the last pairing out of camp, had just returned. Shadow paused for a moment, before leaping up to the ledge and addressing the cats.

"You have trained well today." He began, scanning the cats with narrowed green eyes. "In a few moments, we will be leaving this camp. We will go to the BrookClan camp, and show no mercy. They're weaker than us, so remember your training and everything will run smoothly. But leave the leader to me." The cats around the ledge dipped their heads, and Shadow gave a hint of a cold smile.

He snaked down the rocks, pelt beginning to shine in the dying light of the sun. Flicking his tail, he pelted carefully out of the camp, cats vigorously following him.

By the time they reached the border, the sun had dipped below the horizon and stars had begun to speckle the sky. There' wasn't a hint of BrookClan cats, only their pronounced scent of the trees surrounding the edge.

He crossed the border with ease, smooth fur sliding over his tense muscles, anger fueling him. He surged through the sparse forest, hearing the thrumming pawsteps of the other cats within Vengeance.

Elixir matched his pace, her silky paws seeming to glide over the mossy earth. His eyes glinted, before allowing her to remain at his side. She was probably the strongest cat in the group, besides him.

The camp soon was in view of the prepared cats, who slid over the uneven terrain like snakes. The faint outline of a cat standing by the entrance came into view. Thorntail. His dark brown pelt was unmistakable. However, Shadow disregarded him. Thorntail thought he was such a good warrior, but it was all talk.

Shadow watched, striding towards the tom, and watched as his face turned to shock, then fear, and raced through the entrance to camp. Jumping forward, Thorntail screeched, "Attack!" to the sleeping camp, as Shadow surged forwards, claws unsheathed, ready to do whatever it took to make BrookClan regret it.