Whisper...

The only sound you could hear through the bracken and ferns, and it could easily be mistaken for a light breeze.

Whisper...

The soft sound escaping her lips, not intended for anyone to hear.

Whisper...

That was her name, and it suited her well. Why? Because when she was under orders of a task, when she was in the forest searching, a whisper of sound was all the warning you got. That's why she was so useful. That's partly why she was still alive.

The moon was high in the sky and the stars were glittering icily, but the darkness was comforting; it embraced her and kept her hidden, giving her an advantage to her enemies. She stopped moving and scented the air. In her mind she sifted through the different smells, trying to zero in on the one she was looking for. It was faint, but she caught it and hurried along in that direction, energy and determination jolting through her body like a bolt of lightning.

The night did not cause her drowsiness, nor did it make her any less sufficient at completing her job. A few nights before she did a task she switched her sleeping habits around, staying up throughout the night and sleeping during the daytime, usually hidden in an abandoned burrow or somewhere just as dark. It was smart, and her companions quickly caught on and used her strategy for themselves. It helped them do better, but no one could ever be as silent and quick as she.

The moon was faint, and as she slunk through the undergrowth, patches of light peeked through the trees every once in awhile. She tried to stay in the thickest part of the forest.

The scent she was following got stronger, and excitement pulsed through her. She was quicker, softer. She was so close - but there was more. She was puzzled; scents that were unfamiliar to her were now crowding her nose. Many, many cats, living together, marking borders? It was unheard of to her. Luckily, the scent she was following veered sharply out of the area marked by borders, and deeper into the forest.

She knew the cat she was searching for was in the clearing a few tail-lengths in front of her; the tip of her tail twitched. Slowly, carefully, she peeked her head around some ferns and narrowed her eyes at the sight of a dark tabby pelt. She watched the cat pick at a bloody carcass that was once a squirrel. He was distracted. She was ready. The moment was perfect.

She didn't even disturb the bracken or ferns when she darted out of the darkness, a streak of black; invisible. Her victim's scream of surprise and pain was muted as she pushed his face into the earth, her claws unsheathed. She made it quick as possible; a brief, skillfully aimed bite to the correct part of his neck, and his struggling ceased.

The she-cat stood back and looked at what she had done. There was no remorse, there was no guilt or sadness or regret in her gaze. Only satisfaction.

Then she was gone, and the only sound was a whisper.

"I had to."

--

Birchfall padded into camp with a vole and two mice hanging from his salivating jaws, their bodies still warm. His muscles ached from running around since dawn, but he knew that there was still work to do. The Clan was thriving, abundant in kits and queens in need of fresh-kill and nurturing. He set the prey down on the fresh-kill pile and padded over to a shady spot in the hollow, flopping down on his side for a quick moment of rest. He began grooming his fur, smoothing it down and cleaning the dirt out of it.

He had barely started when Whitewing walked awkwardly up to him, nervously staring at the ground in front of where he sat instead of directly at him. He could've sighed. It was obvious that the she-cat was crushing on him, and he wished she would stop being so shy around him. She was a lot of fun when she wasn't acting all weird

"Firestar said you have to go on a patrol with Squirrelflight, Foxpaw, and Thornclaw," she muttered, then quickly trotted away. Birchfall nodded his thanks. He got up and padded over to the waiting border patrol, muttering quietly under his breath about she-cats and their silly behaviour.

He greeted his clanmates with a brisk nod, then they headed through the thorn tunnel and into the forest. They followed a worn path towards the WindClan border, although Foxpaw kept wandering off to scent something, then Squirrelflight had to go after him when he was taking to long. It was a tedious trip, but finally, they were there.

A slight breeze pulled itself gently across the border, carrying with it the scents of rabbit, moor, and WindClan. Birchfall wrinkled his nose in disgust, and then headed away from the lake, following the border markings and refreshing them as he went.

He scented carefully, making sure that no WindClan scents had crossed onto ThunderClan territory. Soon he was far enough away that his companions turned into tiny dots. Then he rounded a corner and they disappeared from view. He was almost at the edge of both territories.

He finally finished marking borders, and inhaled deeply one last time to be sure; no WindClan cat would ever get away with trespassing. There were no WindClan scents, but there was another aroma of a cat that was unfamiliar to him.

A look of confusion crossed over his face, and he began following the faint trace of cat, even more surprised to find that it had only entered the territory briefly, then headed back to wherever it had come from almost immediately after. It was definately not a Clan cat. There were no remains of fresh-kill or any odor of blood, so Birchfall headed back to notify the others. It may not have stolen any prey, but this unknown rogue had to be reported to Firestar.

Thank you for reading, the first chapter may be a bit dry, but don't worry, it gets better. Please review, because I really don't want to waste time writing a story no one wants to read. Even if the review is saying that I need to work on my writing or that you don't like my story at all. Thanks, Sky!