Warriors: The Prophecy of Fire

Chapter Thirteen

It was a little after sunup and Hawthornepaw stretched out in her nest, feeling a bitter wind go over her, ruffling her silky pelt. She stood up and made her way to the fresh-kill pile, which was empty. Confused, she made her way to the stream, it was frozen over. Then she headed to the lake, it was frozen over too. How could this have possibly have happened in one night? Ugh, now they would have to have other prey for the season, like squirrels or mice. How in StarClan did the other Clans like those over fish? She lets out a sigh before padding back to camp, her tortoiseshell fur fluffed out to keep her warm. Walking by the nursery, she saw the two newborn kits curled in close to their mother, shivering. She quickly grabbed some more moss and gave it to the groggy queen, who made her nest a little higher, high enough so the wind couldn't reach her kits, and instantly fell back asleep. Hawthornepaw purred at the sight of Lakeclaw with her kits, and walked back to the medicine cat den, trying to make sure the herbs were still good. Thankfully, none had gone bad yet, and the cold should help preserve them. She lies back down in her nest, hoping to get some more sleep, when she hears loud mewling come from the nursery. Giving up on trying to get more sleep, she gets out of her nest and heads over to the nursery, carrying some borage in her jaws for the nursing queen.

She ducked into the den once more and saw Lakeclaw nuzzling her yowling kits, her eyes wide with confusion, trying to comfort them. When she saw Hawthornepaw with the herbs, she calmed down, her eyes narrowing back to their normal width as she quickly ate the herb. When she swallowed, she pushed her kits into her belly with her nose and they quickly latched on and started nursing. Purring quietly in approval, Hawthornepaw ducked back out of the den and went to check on the elders. 

She saw Ravenwing, his eyes narrow and hardened in pain, lying in his nest. When he saw Hawthornepaw his eyes softened. "My hips are aching really bad, I think it's from the cold. Can you help me?"

"Of course," she mews, hurrying over to the medicine cat den and grabs some fennel, trotting back to the elder and breaking the stalk above his head, dripping the juice into his opened mouth. "Wait a little, this should help soon."

The black tom nods in appreciation, "Thank you, Hawthornepaw." Once again, the she-cat purrs happily as she leaves the den, padding out into the bitter-cold camp. She sees Lilypelt, Nightsky, and Breezecloud come back to camp, Lilypelt is carrying a juicy squirrel, Nightsky two scrawny mice, and Breezecloud a plump vole. Lilypelt carries her squirrel to the elder's den for the two cats to share, Breezecloud brings his vole to the queen, and Nightsky drops his mice in the fresh-kill pile. Wincing at the size of the fresh-kill pile, Hawthornepaw pads back to the medicine cat den and wakes up her black tom mentor. He opens his amber eyes at her wearily, before shifting into a sitting position.

"Can I go hunting? We have so little fresh-kill and you and I both know I'm a good hunter. I know I'm a medicine cat now, but can I please go?" 

Mosstail sighs, "Fine, but be back soon. You're the only apprentice, we're going to need you." Happy that she can go hunting, she disregards the part where she'll have to do chores when she gets back, and happily trots out to the forest. Soon, the tortoiseshell catches the scent of a squirrel, but it's up in a tree. The memory of the last time she was in a tree flashes through her mind, the climb up there, the fall, the pain. She shakes out her fur and decides to go after it, carefully clawing her way up the tree. She gets to the squirrel's nest and quickly snatches the lethargic squirrel, delivering the killing bite before quickly finding her way down the tree. She attempts to bury it, but the ground is frozen solid and she gives up, walking with the plump squirrel in her jaws before catching the scent of something definitely worth looking for; a whole nest of mice! She sets the limp squirrel on the ground before lowering herself into hunter's crouch, slowly creeping her way over to the den, before pouncing on it, her paws landing on at least three mice. She quickly kills them and looks proudly at her prey, before grabbing it in her jaws and bringing it back to camp for the fresh-kill pile. Thank you, StarClan, for this prey she says to her ancestors, glad she had caught so much. On her way back, the memory of the hunt she had gone on before flashes through her mind, the four fish she had caught before the fox attack. Her eyes glinting in pride at the memory, she makes her way back to the lake where she had dropped them, bracing herself as she dug through the frozen dirt, until she finally found what she was looking for. She took the frozen fish, too, and carried all the prey back to camp, dropping them in the fresh-kill pile.

Mosstail steps out of the den and his eyes widen at the sight of all the fresh-kill. "How much of this did you catch, Hawthornepaw?" he asks, his voice filled with awe.

"I had caught the fish a while ago, back on the day Pebblestar was made leader, but they were preserved in the cold ground. I got the squirrel from a tree and three of the mice were in a nest together, any warrior could do it."

"That's the thing, Hawthornepaw, you're not a warrior. I'm wondering if it was a mistake to make you a medicine cat."

"Don't worry," the she-cat purrs. "At first I thought it was a mistake, after all, doesn't every kit grow up hoping to be the best warrior ever? But after training to be a medicine cat, I now know that it is what I was made to do."

The black tom purrs, "You really are wise beyond your years, Hawthornepaw." Hawthornepaw flicks her tail happily in response and grabs one of the scrawny mice that Nightsky had brought back, finishing it quickly, not wanting to savor it's woody taste. Soon, Dawnstar comes out of her den, her golden pelt puffed out, the light hitting it just right it looked like it was glowing. She walks over to her deputy and Hawthornepaw steals a glance at them, but it didn't look like anything big was happening. Soon, the leader walks away from her deputy and over to Hawthornepaw.

"Thank you for catching all this prey, Hawthornepaw."

The tortoiseshell dips her head in respect and the leader heads over to the warrior's den, coming back out with Silverfeather, Brushbranch, and Twigheart, and they head into the forest. They soon come back, Silverfeather carrying a thrush, Dawnstar with three mice and a vole, Brushbranch another squirrel, and Twigheart a small hare. Hawthornepaw purrs at the sight of the welcome prey, wondering why a bird was still here, but glad that they had plenty of prey.

"Hawthornepaw, we need you, Twigheart, and Doveleaf to fix up on the nests," Mosstail mews. "Twigheart and Doveleaf are the youngest warriors, so apprentice duties fall back on them."  Hawthornepaw nods in understanding and go gets the young warriors, informing them of what Mosstail had said. They head off and start fixing up the nests, having to wake up the occasional warrior that was still sleeping. They add more moss to the nests and some feathers from the thrush that Doveleaf and Brushbranch had shared to the nursery and elders' nests. By the time they had finished up with all the nests, the fresh-kill pile was almost empty again, leaving only a squirrel, a vole, and the hare. Sure the squirrel and hare were huge, but it still wasn't a lot quantity wise. Sighing, Hawthornepaw grabbed the vole and sat down, ready to start eating. She saw a shadow behind her and turned around, seeing the familiar black tom, his fur speckled with white, and his blue eyes glowing, standing behind her.

"Would you like to share this vole, Nightsky?" She asks him, her ears flicking down at the tiny piece of prey.

"Of course," he purrs, sitting down next to the tortoiseshell. They both take tiny bites of it until its gone, Hawthornepaw quickly buries the bones and stands up, turning her head up to the sky, which was getting dark.

"I really do see why they named you Nightsky, your pelt looks exactly like the Silverpelt," she mews softly to her friend.

"Thank you," he purrs again, laying his tail on Hawthornepaw's shoulders and joining her, looking up at the beautiful sky. After standing there for a while, Nightsky pulls his tail off of Hawthornepaw. "Goodnight, Hawthornepaw. Sleep well."

"You too, Nightsky," she purrs watching as the tom walks away, then heading back to the medicine cat den, lying in her nest and closing her eyes, drifting off into the realm of sleep.