Warriors: The Prophecy of Fire

Chapter Eleven

Hawthornepaw stole a look at the fox as she raced away, luring it away from camp. She raced away from the stream and to the lake, dropping the fish on the ground and letting out the loudest yowl she could. The fox was huge, at least three times her size. She sprinted away from it, heading to the lake, it was bigger but she was faster. When she finally made it to the lake she fox was right on her tail, she swung around and faced the fox, puffing out her fur so she looked bigger. She hissed and crouched down, bunching her legs, and leapt at the fox, her teeth bared. She raked it's eye and it jumped back, letting out a hideous grow. The fox leapt at her, saliva dripping out of its open jaws, pushing her flat on her back. She raked her claws on its belly but it didn't flinch, it threw its head forward, aiming at her throat, ready to deliver the killing bite, she could fell hot breath on her throat, saliva dripping on to her fur. She braced herself as the teeth grazed her exposed throat, suddenly, the weight was thrown off of her. She scrambled to her feet and saw a golden she-cat on top of the fox, her green eyes blazing. She raked her claws against the fox's side, it let out a guttural shriek, blood coating its pelt, plastering down the fur. Dawnsky released the fox and it scrambled away, Hawthornepaw chased after the fox, leading it through the outskirts of their territory and out, making sure it didn't get into any other territories. She stood, panting for a few heartbeats, before turning tail and racing back to Dawnsky. On her way back she barreled into the golden she-cat.

"Hey, are you ok?" Dawnsky asked, worry edging her voice.

"Yeah, I'm good, you got to me just in time. How about you?"

"I'm fine," she mewed, "that fox should know to stay out of here now," she hissed. "You would have made a great warrior, Hawthornepaw. I'm proud of you for doing what's best for your clan, though," she purrs.

"Thank you," Hawthornepaw purrs back and they pad back to camp, the tortoiseshell she-cat wondering how in the world she and the deputy had chased that fox away unscathed. She finally got back to camp and made her way over to the medicine cat den, ready to tell Mosstail what had happened. When she walked in to the den, she was surprised to see Pebblestar passed out in a nest.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice coated in distress.

"A little after you left for the hunt she came in here, not feeling to great, and then collapsed. Sunpelt helped me move her over into a nest. I guess I can tell you since you're my apprentice, this is her last life. She lost one when she fell off a tree, one in a dog attack, one in a fight against rogues, two from greencough, she got caught in a fox trap, one in the great earth rumble, and a tree fell on her. Not in that order but she's on her last life and we need her to get better, not that Dawnsky won't make a great leader, but I don't want to lose her."

"That makes sense, what should we do then?"

"I don't really know, she passed out before I could ask her what's wrong."

"Should we try and wake her up then?" 

"I don't know if that's a wise idea."

"Why not?"

Mosstail sighs, "Fine, you do it." Hawthornepaw reaches for the small stream of water that's by the edge of the den and scoops some in her jaws, then sprays it on the white she-cat. Within an instant the leader's eyes snap open, she looks around and sees she's in the medicine cat den.

"What's going on?" she asks, her voice weak.

"You said you didn't feel right and then collapsed, do you know what's wrong with you?" They watch as the she-cat closes her eyes, evidently trying to find out.

"No, I feel fine," she says, sitting up and licking her white fur smooth before standing up and stalking out of the den. Soon, they hear a racking cough and rush over to her den, where the leader is sitting, blood dripping out of her jaws.