FROSTED OVER: ꜱᴏʟɪᴛᴀʀʏ | ᴀ ᴡᴀʀʀɪᴏʀ ᴄᴀᴛꜱ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ONE

The damp, cold night breeze whistled through the air, and right into the apprentice's den like a phantom. Snow was wafting through the night, sprinkling a white blanket across the ground like feathers.

    Snowpaw was the only one awake to notice this; he couldn't sleep, and he'd been spending the last couple of hours rolling and twisting in the lining of his nest, as though some cat had snuck in a thorn or a rather sharp, irritating twig. He curled up into a tighter ball, icy wind striking through the brambles of the den.

    And then the scent came back to him.

    He turned, and snuck a glance at a bundle of pure, glossy black fur, curled up against the cold in a soft-looking nest.

    It was Rainpaw, the beautiful black she-cat apprentice, the only cat that Snowpaw wanted to be by his side for the rest of his life.

    Her sweet smell, the mixture of chamomile and mint, swirled around him, and he breathed it in. It smelled better than honey, better than anything he'd ever scented.

    Slowly, he twined his bushy white tail around her thin black, and Rainpaw stirred slightly.

    But then Snowpaw loosened his grip.

    Ever since he had been a kit, he had adored Rainpaw as though she were his sister, the cat he would follow, the cat that would be by his side forever. And every cat in the Clan thought that both would become amazing warriors, training alongside each other, their love for one another stronger than the cats they would fight in the future.

    But all of that changed once they left the nursery.

    Everything changed once Rainpaw became the medicine cat apprentice.

    Snowpaw knew it hadn't been her fault, that she'd been sent dreams from StarClan.

    Snowpaw knew it wasn't her fault when she'd been visited by the Clan leader before Mountainstar.

    It was impossible no matter how hard Snowpaw tried to fall asleep and shut away the thought that Rainpaw could never be his.

    He had to succumb.

    Standing up as quietly as he could, he inched his way very cautiously across the lining of his nest, dodging in between the twigs that, if he stepped on, would betray the fact that he was moving, and, precisely, in the direction of the entrance of the apprentice's den.

    He watched Rainpaw become a thick black heap of fur, and then he leapt out of the den.

    It was colder than he'd thought it would be.

    The icy wind struck against his pelt like a claw made of ice, the thin swirls of snow threatening to stick to his fur. 

    Their camp, set on an almost bare, stony cliff, was covered in a thick blanket of snow, so large Snowpaw could barely lift his paws, his fur growing damp and plastering to himself. Walking was almost like wading through a pool of ice water, and he had to plough a way through the snow.

    He stopped cold, and for the first time, hoped that his thick white pelt would disguise him in the snow, no matter how betraying his bright blue eyes were in the inky blackness of the night.

    Batwing and Stoneclaw were standing sentinel by the camp entrance.

    No, not Batwing, Snowpaw groaned silently. He's barely been a warrior for two moons and he's already acting like he's the best cat in the Clan.

    "Hey!" growled Batwing. "What are you doing out of your nest so late? It's so cold! This is suspicious activity, you were blended in and looked like you were being sneaky! Suppose you're meeting a cat from another Clan?!"