Chapter 4

Chapter 4

               

You know how toms are, always shy.  Leaders are no different.  I’m not sure if you remember, but about two sunrises ago at the Northern Clans gathering, Froststar was so nervous at his first gathering that he threw up his last meal in front of everyone?  Surely someone told you of that, and you should’ve heard the silence!  It was asterical!

                “Hey, Robinsong,” Flamestar approached the cream-colored cat with unstable confidence.  The she-cat looked up, startled, and then her expression calmed.  She looked back at him with her pale green eyes.

                “Oh, hello Flamestar.  Is anything wrong?” Robinsong asked.  Flamestar shook his head.

                “No, of course not.  I was wondering if you’d want to come hunting with me.”  Robinsong met Flamestar’s dark green eyes nervously.  It took Flamestar a moment to realize that she thought she was failing at her warrior duties.

                “Oh, sure, of course.  Is there any reason?”

                “No, of course not.  It’s just… you did so well last time I wanted to see your skills myself!  Yeah, that’s it!” Flamestar smiled a huge grin that Robinsong met with a weird frown.

                “Uh… okay…”

                “Oh, sorry!  You haven’t done anything wrong!”  Robinsong’s worry faded from her expression.

                “Okay, that’s a relief.  When would you like to go?” Robinsong asked.

                “Now!”  Flamestar’s words came out much too fast.

                “Well, I just went on the dawn patrol and I just got back from hunting.” Uh oh.

                “Well, uh, this is the only time I have!  Let’s go!” Flamestar started to pad off.  Ugh!  I can’t do anything right!

                “Wait up!” Robinsong ran up next to her leader then continued in a steady trot beside him.

                “Where to?” Robinsong asked.  Hmm…

                “How about the river?” Flamestar replied.

                “Perfect!  We can catch some fish for Graypaw and Sharpfang!  Those two have worked so hard lately!” For some reason, Graypaw and Sharpfang preferred the taste of fish over mouse or vole.  Not that anyone’s complaining, of course.  FireClan couldn’t exist without them.

                “Exactly!  Nice thinking, Robinsong!”  The she-cat smiled at the praise.  

                You know how in the happiest of moments, the brightest of days, the perfection only lasts long enough before disaster strikes?  It’s funny how life works that way, when you catch the perfect mouse, a hawk swoops down and steals it before anyone knows you caught it, or when you’ve just cleaned the moss in the nursery, kits come running in with muddy paws.  Of course, those are the smallest of examples, you know.  Much worse things could happen.  Maybe a lost cat just returned, only to drown a day later?  A tragic example, I know, but I’m just trying to prepare you two for what I’m about to say.  And from there, this tale goes downhill: tragically.  Alright, alright, I’m done.  I’ll just tell you then, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

                The cries of the river completely distracted Flamestar from the musky scents floating around in the air harmlessly, for he was lost in the current of cream-colored fur.  Her paw reached into the water and snagged out a fish, not exactly the orange cat’s favorite, but the orange paw followed the cream’s example.  First they were sitting on the shore, then paw deep in the water, and then swimming clumsily, not even trying to catch a fish.  Besides, they’d already caught quite a few.  Being the farthest from the CreekClan border, the fish all the way in FireClan territory were… quite stupid, and still are.  The eight they caught were on the smaller side, but enough to fill many cats.  FireClan would be dining, wether they all liked it or not, on fish tonight.

                “Nice try, Flamestar!” Robinsong said while giggling.  Flamestar had reached out for a fish, but fell face first into the stream.

                “Why, thank you.  It’s been my best try, you know.  And a mouth full of pebbles goes with almost-caught fish quite well.  You should try it.”  The two cats were so caught up in their laughter that they didn’t notice the obvious signs all around them that pointed to one thing: danger.

                For one thing, the current was unusually slow.  And that musky scent I mentioned earlier: the cats were not even close to the border, and there were only two of them.  And how about bright yellow eyes staring at you from the underbrush?  Okay, okay, that was only partly true.  But you know that feeling that you’re being watched?  It’s like a bright orange spot in the middle of a forest: you can’t miss it.  That feeling where something is nearby, and it’s not a friend.

                “So, Robinsong,” Flamestar paused to look at the cream-colored cat.

                “Yeah, Flamestar?” Robinsong wanted to know.

                “Well, I was wondering-“  At that moment, a black blur emerged from the shadows.  But now, that black blue wasn’t just a blur, it was destiny.  Destiny in the form of a wolf.

                “What the-“ Robinsong’s cry was interrupted by a growl.  A huge black wolf was there, standing before them in the rushing water.  Flamestar’s eyes grew wider than an elephant ear plant.  The two cats could only stare at the gigantic cousin of the dog right there, in front of them.  And then, the wolf lunged toward the orange pelt staring at him.  All Flamestar could see was black, black, and more black.  And then, cream.

                All of the battle went in slow motion.  Robinsong lunged at the wolf and slammed into its side as it flew mid-air toward Flamestar, and then straight into a tree trunk.  Flamestar shook his head and sprang into the fight beside Robinsong.  The wolf sprang back to its paws and swiped at Robinsong.  He pinned the she-cat to the ground and bit into her neck, only to be cut short by a bite in its paw.  The wolf snarled at the tom and shook him away.  Flamestar was flung backwards into the ground.  The wolf faced him again.

                Robinsong lunged at the wolf’s neck, and secured herself onto its neck with her claws.  Before the wolf could react and head back towards Flamestar, Robinsong released one paw and, swinging herself back and forth beforehand, aimed for the wolf’s eye with her claws, but the wolf lifted his head up in disgust and Robinsong pierced the skin right under the wolf’s left eye.

                The wolf snarled again and slung the cream-colored cat off its neck.  Time sped up again as Robinsong was flung in the air at a faster speed then Flamestar had ever seen, and then was stopped by a large tree trunk in the way.

                “Robinsong!” Flamestar cried.  The blurriness and stars surrounded him, and time slowed down again as the wolf ran towards him.

                “No!” Robinsong cried.  “This isn’t over!”  The she-cat peeled herself from the tree, revealing a huge amount of blood.  She shakily lunged at the wolf again, but the black dog easily met her moves with its teeth, making her gashes even bigger, also adding some more.

                “Robinsong!” Flamestar cried again.  Despite the pain in his leg, Flamestar got up and bit into the wolf’s paw.  It was bigger than his head.  The wolf turned towards Flamestar, and then past him.  Flamestar blinked in confusion.  Just then, four other yellow eyes appeared from the shadows.  They crept closer, revealing a gray wolf and a brown wolf.

                “Oh, StarClan!” The two wolves crept closer.  The black wolf blinked and turned to the heap of cream-colored fur, and then turned back to Flamestar.  One wolf… but three?  Two cats can’t take on three opponants five times bigger than themselves!

                The black wolf picked up Flamestar in his teeth, then shook him like prey.  He flung him back to the ground, and the last thing Flamestar remembered was the black wolf heading back to Robinsong with the other two wolves watching.  Then, Flamestar’s world went black, and the pain faded away.