Warriors: High Tides

Chapter 1

Rookheart wiggled his hindquarters eagerly. The young warrior was only two moons out of apprenticeship, and he wanted to prove himself to his Clan. Great pine trees rose high above him, giving him the benefit of a dappled forest floor; his black pelt was broken by the blasts of light, blending him perfectly.

He leaped forward as he grew within a taillength, and slapped down hard on the squirrel, grinning widely. He caught it! Most of the warriors had, as usual, come back with nothing to show for their efforts. But Rookheart did. He gently scooped up the squirrel and trotted back to Camp, head held high.

When he arrived, he noticed their leader, Maplestar, sitting atop the Highrock with their deputy, Snowclaw. He grinned and stepped up, ears pressed forward eagerly. "Maplestar?"

The ginger she-cat looked down curiously, and gasped in surprise before bounding down. "You caught prey," She mewed. "A squirrel, no less!"

He placed his catch down at her paws. "Yes, Maplestar. It must have wandered in from ThunderClan's territory."

She grinned and gently touched her nose to his forehead, a deep purr rumbling in her throat. "Very well done." As she inspected the squirrel, her face fell and she sighed. "All the prey is so thin... Give this to the Queens. Make sure all of them eat, and if they refuse, shove it down their throats by force."

Rookheart nodded and picked up his catch, trotting to the nursury. Their Medicine Cat, Cloudleaf, sat within, sighing and talking to the queens.

When he saw Rookheart, he let out a sigh. "We lost two more litters last night."

The black warrior nearly dropped the squirrel in shock and horror as he noticed two Queens were not present in the nursury. They only had one left, whereas two moons ago they had five. Only one of those litters had been born - the rest died in their mothers' bellies and never escaped the womb.

"I came to feed the Queen," He meowed, looking at the remaining mother-to-be, Waspwhisker. Her golden pelt, once pretty, was snarly and dark, dirty yellow. Her eyes were dull and her ribs were beginning to show, despite her kit-plump belly.

He set it before her, and he could see her fight not to wolf it down madly. She still strived to be polite, to be orderly, but she was so famished. He sighed and walked away from the Nursury, unable to bear the scent of milk for kits that would never come.

So many ShadowClan hunters taken before they could even get a chance, he thought bitterly. StarClan was causing this! Taking their kits before they ever saw the world. Maybe they're sparing us the mouths to feed, he reasoned. Kits can't even learn to hunt until they're six moons old.

He sat down with a sigh and looked up. A Gathering would be held tonight, he knew. He dreaded hearing the bad news of prey. He felt his stomach rumble with need and looked over at the freshkill pile. It was empty, as usual. Prey was so scarce now that they couldn't afford to cache it anymore.

Maplestar jumped up on the Highrock and let out a yowl, lashing her tail. All of ShadowClan came out, ears pressed forward, bellies thin. Some looked plumper than others, but Rookheart knew it was only because of longer fur. Everyone was thin. They only caught around five pieces of prey. Granted, the Elders were slightly fatter than the rest, but that was only because they were fed first. The queens were thin because they were nursing kittens, or carrying them. The warriors were naturally the hungriest, as they almost always gave their food to their apprentices before they themselves ate even a morsel.

"I have chosen who will come with me to the Gathering." Maplestar cried out. "Cloudleaf and Snowclaw, automatically. Badgerpaw, as well, as you are the Medicine Cat apprentice. Rookheart, Loontail, Brightcloud and Brownwhisker, as well. While we are at the Gathering, the remaining Warriors must hunt and bring back as much food as possible. Waspwhisker, do not leave Camp for any reason. Apprentices will go with the Hunting Party to learn all they can and double the success chance." She then jumped off the Highrock and approached the entrance. Snowclaw trotted over and whispered something into the leader's ear, but Rookheart couldn't hear it. Cloudleaf looked worried, even paranoid, but the young warrior credited hunger as the cause. He found himself quite jumpy and nervous when the hunger was at its peak.

Finally they walked out of Camp and into ShadowClan's territory. What little undergrowth there was had started to double in the past few moons, and now he felt crowded and strange in his own territory. They were starting to resemble ThunderClan's territory, only with pine trees instead of oaks and alders.

Following the waterline of the lake, Rookheart noticed in worry that the minnows weren't out. The sunset was at its last few rays; the minnows should have been everywhere. But instead, he only saw one, and that one was dead, floating to shore upside down.

When they got to the logbridge, Rookheart cringed painfully. Legend has it that some cats, when they came to the Island unwanted, saw the bones of a dead cat called Mudfur reanimate and chase them away from his resting place. Word was that he died when the tree fell atop him all those seasons ago, and he never made the journey to StarClan, his spirit trapped under the tree without a proper burial.

He trotted carefully across the logbridge, listening to the near-empty waters slosh below him. Please don't come after us, Mudfur. It's the Full Moon. He thought in fear. Once he got to the other side, he hopped off the bridge onto the gravely shore of the Gathering Island. The murmur of cats told him at least one other Clan was there. By the scent of it, RiverClan.

He padded through the brush after his Leader and Deputy, thinking. RiverClan's scent was so strong.

When he poked his head through the bushes, he saw why. They must have brought the whole Clan!