The Games

by snowygrin

He curled his long tail around the tip of his nose, falsely reasurring himself that everything would be fine. But he knew it was pointless. When it came to the games, so he had heard, you were padding into a death trap. He had also heard, that if you do survive, you will not be the same. If you return, you are broken beyond repair.

2. Training

Chapter One

Fledgling, a black tom with white paws and tail-tip, sat crouched in the old barn they used for training. He was one of the six chosen from Windclan. He was currently working on his hunting, he knew that he was able to hunt, but there would most likely be new types of terrains to hunt on and new types of animal to attack.

Fledgling crouched lower, silencing his swishing tail and peering through the towering haystacks. He crept further down, stopping when he spotted a mouse nibbling on a seed. He narrowed his yellow-green eyes, preparing for the leap.

An unkempt, ragged, brown tom leapt out in front of him, landing squarely on top of the unsuspecting mouse. Fledgling jumped up, ready to fight, fur bristling and teeth bared. The brown tom glanced coolly up at him,

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice was much smoother than his fur, almost leading Fledgling to drop the matter.

Fledgling forced his fur to lye flat. "That was my mouse." He hissed through clenched teeth. The brown tom looked up in mock sympathy,

"Oh, did the little kitty want his mousey back?" He let out a little chuckle of amusement then went back to tearing into the little creature.

"Listen, I don't care that you caught the mouse. It was a puny one anyways. Just watch where you're hunting next time." Satisfied with his little speech, Fledgling padded off, tail stuck in the air indignantly.

Badgermask sat huddled in the corner, trying hard to keep all the emotions that were threatening to overcome her from spilling over. She was waiting for her turn to try paw-to-paw combat. She knew she didn't really have much of a chance. Although she was quite tall and agile, she could never fight another cat, at least, not very fiercely. She simply wasn't all that strong.

She choked back tears as she thought of the moon or so that was ahead of her. Hiding, killing, screaming, fighting, and more hiding. How would she survive?

Her hopeless thoughts were interrupted by the voice of one of the trainers,

"Badgermask! Get over here!" She padded over to Hutchfrond, a trainer from her own clan, Riverclan,

"Listen, don't waist your time exposing your weaknesses to other cats, let's show 'em something to be afraid of." She whimpered,

"I don't think I can-" He cut her off,

"Don't say that. I know that you're amazingly fast and intelligent. You may not be so handy in strength, or in medical training either, but you sure know how to hunt and hide!" Badgermask twitched her tail, irritated, not sure whether or not to be flattered or angered by the comment.

Hutchfrond ignored her expression and gestured at the high barn loft,

"See how fast you can get up there, once you're up, practice some hunting. Later I'll take you out for some herb practice. Then you and I'll fight, don't worry, it'll just be a practice." He twitched his ears and padded away, going to help some other hopelessly lost contestant.

Badgermask narrowed her yellow-flecked eyes, determined not to let her emotions to take over her actions. She flexed her muscles, they were in good shape, for running and hunting at least. She waited only a moment before dashing over to the wall of the barn, claws outstretched to get a good grip. She skimmed the wall easily in only a few seconds, jumping into the loft.

She uttered a small and desperate prayer to Starclan, praying that they would give her strength and courage. She let out a little whimper, would she even manage to survive a few seconds in the games?