The Roaring Winds

Chapter One: Bitterness

Chapter One: Bitterness

A light droplet of rain landed on Mossypaw's face. She awoke with a disgruntled groan and opened up her cobalt blue eyes, narrowing them at the sight of the bleak day. The camp was covered in a dense, gray fog as light droplets of rain dropped down from overhead. Another cold splatter of rain landed on her head, causing her to growl quietly to herself.

She rose from her mossy nest, which was now damp from the rain that was leaking through the roof of the apprentice's den. She looked up at the hole of the den ceiling, where the reeds had been disturbed. One of the apprentices would probably be asked, well more like ordered, to take care of it. Mossypaw began to walk out of the den, not wanting to be assigned that job.

Her tiredness ached within her muscles as she trudged out of the den into a damp puddle. The ground beneath her was soggy from all the dripping water. Her eyes trailed upward toward the sky at the dark gray clouds overhead. It would probably be raining all morning most likely.

Her dark brown fur prickled, catching onto the coldness that had soaked into her skin. She gave her fur a few careless licks, not wanting to look like a complete wreck.

The cats within the camp were mixed between staying in the shelter of their own dens or standing out in the rain. No cat really minded water since they were all from RiverClan, but cats liked to keep their insides warm in the morning before jumping into the streams and rivers as the sun's wrath came down on them.

Soon enough, it'll be leaf-fall and we will always be cold in the mornings. And eventually, it'll snow and then no prey will want to be out in the cold weather. Mossypaw thought to herself, not enjoying her subconscious' words.

With the current condition, Mossypaw could detect the fragrant odor of the medicine cat den. The tang of herbs was strong and it hit Mossypaw head-on with the direction of the wind. She heard the sound of quiet coughing and soft voices from within the den.

Of course, Sorrelleaf will be dealing with another patient. It seems like every cat in RiverClan has gone to her den once in the past moon. Mossypaw rolled her eyes at the thought. Every cat was overdramatic whenever they had the slightest hint of pain, even if they were well-seasoned warriors who'd been in the thick of battle.

And some cats won't let us forget it. Her eyes trailed toward Cloudflurry, who was currently boasting to Deepshadow and Sootpelt about the 'huge' trout he had caught the day before. Mossypaw didn't bother to listen in on the story, but she focused on the reactions of the cats around him. Deepshadow seemed to be intrigued or perhaps he was just pretending to care in an attempt to be 'empathetic.' Sootpelt was mostly just nodding along, casting a glance at the entrance of camp every once in a while.

Her focus turned toward the senior warriors, who had decided to 'tough it out' in the rain. Pinepelt, Leafdrift, and Shinestone were deep in conversation, muttering words such as 'patrols,' 'borders,' and 'hunting.' Pinepelt was clearly the authoritative figure among the three cats, but he was willing to listen in on the other she-cats' ideas. His thick, tabby tail was interwoven with Leafdrift's thin, tortoiseshell one, and Mossypaw had to fight back the urge to gag. Shinestone had a knowing smile on her face, also noticing the gesture. Mossypaw looked away before the situation escalated.

She glanced over at the apprentices, who were sheltered underneath the comfort and shade of a willow tree. Mossypaw detected the spotted gray tabby pelt of Troutpaw and the duller, golden-brown pelt of Briarpaw before catching a glimpse of dark gray fur.