Warriors belongs to Erin Hunter

Chapter 5: The only thing to fear

"Pathetic," The harsh, low voice hissed beside Foxpaw's ear in the dark. He could feel the cold breath of the attacker as it sent a small chill down his spine.

Getting over the initial shock, he looked to the last glimpse of light; the only way out. Foxpaw reached his paw out towards it, as though he could catch it in his claws. With a feeling of dread and hopelessness, the light disappeared. Darkness surrounded him, suffocating him, blinding him.

"Weak," The creature spat in his ear, his voice loud from where Foxpaw was, though soft as a whisper in the wind for the scuttling beetle only a few feet away. Foxpaw pressed his ears flat against his skull in an attempt to protect himself from further insult. He could no longer tell where he was being dragged, only the claws on his back giving him some semblance of direction. Backwards. Foxpaw thought miserably.

"Is that the best you can do?" The cat growled, digging it's claws deep into Foxpaw's spine, "fight back."

With a yelp, Foxpaw was thrown back, losing all sense of gravity as he rolled along the ground; discarded like a piece of crowfood. Eventually he came to a startling halt as he crashed into the solid base of a tree, sending waves of pain through his back. The young fox crumpled on the ground.

"Am I a fox or a cat?" The cat's voice mockingly questioned, his voice high pitched and exaggerated.

Foxpaw gently rose, his legs wavering but luckily they didn't buckle beneath him. He tried to raise his hackles threateningly, though he realised that the mocker could not see him in the dark. Feeling stupid, he settled for a normal standing position, trying to look for the glowing light of a cat's reflective eyes. Even cats can't reflect light when it's pitch black, he realized.

"Who are you?" Foxpaw asked loudly, trying to sound braver than he was.

The cat seemed to hesitate for a second, answering only after a few long moments, "call me fear."

"Is that your name?" Fear didn't answer.

"Fear is what stands in your way," Fear hissed, landing a drop of spittle onto Foxpaw's nose, "it is the only thing standing between you and greatness."

Before Foxpaw could think, long claws ripped through the tough flesh on his shoulder, momentarily knocking him off his feet.

"Fight back."

The moment Foxpaw got back on his paws, Fear bit into the side of the fox cub's face. Foxpaw managed to pull himself away from Fear's fangs, only barely avoiding an injury to the eye.

Breathing heavily, Foxpaw whipped around, unable to know where the cat would strike next. Unfortunately, he didn't have to wait long for the answer. In a swift movement, Fear cut a long scratch onto Foxpaw's neck, spilling blood onto his chest. The injury stung like fire, burning from his chin to his chest. Suddenly very fearful, Foxpaw lifted a paw up to his neck to check the injury; luckily it wasn't very deep.

"Useless," Fear spat, his eyes glowing a dull yellow, "let's try again tomorrow, shall we?"

Fear's yellow eyes continued to glow gradually brighter, until they were a blinding white.

"Get up," Snowpaw meowed, waking Foxpaw from his sleep.

Snowpaw paused, her eyes lingering on his wounds, clearly curious; yet she didn't ask, "Pebbledawn says you have to get up now."

Foxpaw blearily blinked his eyes, the fluffy white feline sauntering away. Gently he stretched, flinching in pain from a wound in his shoulder. After a long yawn, Foxpaw lumbered outside, his eyes only half-open.

"The cats that will be going to the gathering will be announced at sunhigh," The deputy meowed loudly, but to Foxpaw's sleepy mind it sounded like: "Tuh cas thuh wuh buh goun tuh uh guthring wuh buh unced a unhigh."

Shaking himself awake, Foxpaw continued on, unable for the life of him to remember what he'd dreamed.

With a yelp, Foxpaw fell to his right, wincing as his face collided with the hard, wet dirt. Battle training was decidedly not one of his favorite activities, Foxpaw thought miserably, not enjoying the thought of washing himself after either.

"You're leaning to far to the right," Pebbledawn explained, allowing a little frustration into her voice. Without waiting for a response, she leapt at him again, knocking him over in the same way as before.

Ignoring his own soreness, Foxpaw leaned more heavily to the left, putting most of his weight onto his injured hindleg. Despite this, Foxpaw was once again knocked over, though this time onto his left side. Foxpaw heaved breathlessly from the ground, not wanting to get up yet again.

"You leaned too far to the left," Pebbledawn hissed.

Unwillingly getting back on his feet, Foxpaw tried to balance himself evenly; but just as he did, Pebbledawn leaped onto his chest, pushing him over backwards and putting strain on the scratch on his neck.

"What did I do wrong?" Foxpaw panted, all but exhausted.

"Try dodging the attack," Pebbledawn suggested helpfully, finally getting off of his chest.

In exchange for ShadowClan taking him in and sheltering him, one of Foxpaw's most important duties was battle training, in hopes that someday he would help ShadowClan have an unfair advantage over the other clans until and after they recovered. Unfortunately, Foxpaw not only wasn't good at battle training, but he didn't at all like it, and it is quite frankly hard to excel at something you have no enthusiasm for.

Foxpaw heaved himself up yet again, despite his body's protests, and ducked as Pebbledawn leapt; yet Pebbledawn aimed lower, rolling him onto his back. The young apprentice's back scraped along the ground, irritating yet another scratch. Foxpaw resigned himself to the ground, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh of utter defeat; too tired and weak to ask what he had done wrong this time.

Pebbledawn let out a sigh of frustration, accurately summing up Foxpaw's thoughts, "let's try again tomorrow, shall we?"

With a jolt, Foxpaw leapt up, fear coursing through his veins. His fur on end, Foxpaw tried to remember what had caused his reaction to that phrase. He couldn't remember though, no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn't think of anything that would cause him such fear. letting out a small shiver, Foxpaw turned to see Pebbledawn padding away, her tail flicking irritably.

Quietly he followed, his own pawsteps echoing in his ears as he headed back to camp.

It was a little past sunhigh by the time they got back, frustrated and tired and in Foxpaw's case very dirty. Foxpaw padded slowly through a crowd of cats, barely catching a glimpse of a small, fluffy white cat and a larger brown cat as they disappeared into the medicine den. Is Snowpaw hurt? The tired fox thought, feeling involuntary worry for the stuck-up apprentice.

Turning around, Foxpaw bumped into a cat of his size, his exhaustion causing him to fall over from the impact.

'Oh, sorry!" Owlpaw apologized, seeming a little fidgety on her feet.

"It's alright," Foxpaw assured, although he didn't try to get up.

"Do you need some help?"

Before he could reply, Owlpaw heaved him back up onto his feet. Foxpaw wasn't sure whether to feel upset or grateful.

"Did you see Snowpaw?" Owlpaw asked warily, staring at the medicine den.

"Yeah, I hope she's alright," Especially with Patchfoot around. Foxpaw added silently.

A long silence passed between the two, creating an uncomfortable feeling. Foxpaw decided to change the subject.

"So, what happened with the storm?" Foxpaw asked, immediately regretting asking as soon as he said it. What if she knew someone who had died?

Owlpaw sat down carefully, looking away from him, as though it were an uncomfortable subject. No surprise there.

"What do you mean?" She asked back, her tail tip twitching in discomfort.

Too late to go back now. "How did it happen?"

"Pd," Owlpaw muttered, taking a sudden interest in an orange caterpillar.

"What was that?"

"Fld," Owlpaw muttered a little louder.

Foxpaw strained his ears forward to hear her better.

"Flood," Owlpaw sighed, "up over that hill, there was a beaver dam."

Foxpaw signaled for her to go on.

"The dam must have been there for a long time, because it was here before the clans journeyed to the lake," Owlpaw explained, "it blocked off a large flow of water; very few of us even knew about it."

The legend of the journey to the lake was considered by most to be no more than an old kit-tale, and Foxpaw personally found the idea of a talking badger ridiculous as a kit, ironically enough under the circumstances.

"The storm must have put it over the limit," Owlpaw finished, "it flooded camp."

"Who died?" Foxpaw asked, to curious now to leave it be.

"Well," Owlpaw thought for a moment, "my mom, Snowpaw's parents, my best friend," She counted off on her claws, "Nightbriar's kits, both of our medicine cats, Frogleap, Ratpelt, and Silverwing."

"Who were they?" His curiosity quickly being replaced by guilt.

"Frogleap and Silverwing were the newest warriors," Owlpaw replied unenthusiastically, "and Ratpelt was an elder."

Noise from the medicine den distracted Foxpaw, and he turned to see Snowpaw leaving the den, the same brown cat just behind her. Beneath a layer of plants and cobweb, there were signs on a long, pink cut running from Snowpaw's shoulder to her leg.

"It's a good thing that I knew how to treat a snakebite," The brown cat meowed. The wound looked more like a scratch than a bite.

The medicine den brought a new question to Foxpaw's mind.

"If both of your medicine cats died, how did Patchfoot become the medicine cat?"

"There was nobody left in the clan that knew enough about medicine to do it," Owlpaw answered, "he took the job when no one else would. Nobody minded because he was lazy and cowardly anyway."

Foxpaw continued to stare transfixed at Snowpaw as she lay down in the apprentice den with a grimace.

"I have something else to tell you," Owlpaw brightened up a bit, catching Foxpaw's attention, "it's sort of bad news and good news."

"What's the good news?" Foxpaw asked carefully.

"The good news is I'm going to the gathering," Owlpaw meowed, smiling excitedly.

"That's great!" Foxpaw yipped, unaware that there was a gathering that night.

"The bad news is-" Owlpaw paused, her smile fading, "you're not."

Before Foxpaw could reply, Tawnystar called out for a meeting. Foxpaw sat down in the back, his eyes on the clan leader. Snowpaw sat nearby to her, only the slightest change in her face showing her confusion.

"I speak these words before StarClan so that they may hear and approve of my choice," Tawnystar began formally, her words giving little clue as to what was going on, "Snowpaw, from this point forth you will be called Adderpaw in honor of your scar."

He had never seen Snowpaw so distressed, Foxpaw thought in shock, surprised at the cruelty of the ceremony.

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Thanks to: SpecklefurTheCat and Lawsonsog for reviewing!