Warriors AU: Midnight

Chapter 10

Squirrelflight scarcely slept that night, and when he did, his dreams were full of Sandstar's anger, and images of his leader driving him away from the camp. When he pushed his way out of the warriors' den the next morning, he still felt exhausted—even more so when he reflected that this was his last day in camp before his journey would begin.

A gray dawn light was filtering through the camp, and the wind was chilly. Tasting the air, Squirrelflight thought he could make out the first scent of approaching leaf-fall. Change was on the way, he realized, whatever he and the other chosen cats tried to do.

Throughout the day he did not even bother trying to speak to Bramblepaw. Though Sandstar had not ordered them to stay apart, he obviously didn't like them to be together. There was no point in deliberately looking for trouble. Squirrelflight caught a glimpse of the young apprentice leaving the camp with Ferncloud; she looked oddly subdued, with her tail trailing against the earth and her ears flat.

"You look as if you've lost a rabbit and found a shrew," a brisk voice spoke beside him.

Squirrelflight looked up; it was Mousefur.

"Do you want to come hunting with me and Spiderpaw?" the tom meowed.

For once Squirrelflight felt he hardly had the energy for hunting or anything else. With his journey due to start the next day, worries were crowding around him like cats at a Gathering. Was he really meant to lead four other cats out into the unknown, to face dangers they could not even imagine?

Mousefur was still waiting for Squirrelflight to answer. He couldn't help wondering if his suggestion of hunting together was another of Sandstar's orders to keep him busy. But the brown tom blinked at him in a friendly way, and he realized that he would be better off hunting than hanging about the camp worrying. Perhaps if he brought back plenty of prey he would start to regain Sandstar's good opinion.

But the hunt didn't go well. Spiderpaw was too easily distracted, as playful as a kit on its first outing. Once, as she was creeping up on a mouse, a leaf spiraled down past her nose, and she lifted one paw to bat at it. Startled by the clumsy movement, the mouse vanished under a root.

"Honestly!" Mousefur sighed. "Do you expect the prey to come and jump into your mouth?"

"Sorry," Spiderpaw mewed, looking abashed.

She made more of an effort after that. When the patrol came upon a squirrel nibbling an acorn in the middle of a clearing, Spiderpaw began stalking it, moving each long black leg stealthily. She was almost ready to pounce when the wind changed and carried her scent to her prey. The squirrel started, tail flicking up, and bounded toward the edge of the clearing.

"Bad luck!" Squirrelflight called.

Instead of answering, Spiderpaw raced after the squirrel and disappeared into the undergrowth.

"Hey!" Mousefur shouted after her. "You'll never catch a squirrel like that." Spiderpaw did not reappear, and her mentor bared her teeth in a resigned growl. "One day she'll learn." He padded off into the undergrowth to find her.

Left to himself, Squirrelflight stood still, listening for the sound of prey. There was a faint rustling in the leaves under the nearest tree. A mouse appeared, scuffling after seeds. Squirrelflight dropped into a hunting crouch and crept up on it, trying to make his paws float over the ground. Then he sprang, and killed his prey with one swift snap.

He scraped earth over it so that he could collect it later, half wishing that Mousefur had been there to see his success. At least he could have told Sandstar that e was still hunting well for his Clan—whatever the leader's complaint was, it couldn't be about that. Listening for more prey, promising himself one last good hunt before he left, he pricked up his ears instead at the sound of something bigger rustling among the bushes a little way off, in the opposite direction from where Spiderpaw and Mousefur had disappeared. Squirrelflight drew the air into his mouth, but could scent nothing except Thunderclan cats. He began to pad forward, only to quicken his pace as the rustling grew louder and was followed by a furious yowl. He ran around the edge of a bramble thicket and stopped dead.