Catching the Sun

'''This is a one-shot for Misty's contest. Enjoy!'''

Prologue
The she-cat's pale gold pelt was a small ray of light in the foggy darkness as she thrashed frantically. A dark force, half-cat, half-cloud, was moving towards her.

"You cannot escape. It is your destiny. You must die. It is for the good of the clans. You are not a cat. It is you. It is within you."

The she-cat's round pale green eyes grew wider and wider with fear as the dark cloud-cat became bigger. "Please," she sobbed. "I just want to live a normal life."

"Impossible! Childish fantasies! You must accept who, or what, you are. And fulfill your purpose. You have a purpose, a use. That is all."

The cloud enveloped her, but there was no one to witness the dream. If they had though, the would see that her coat grew dazzlingly bright, bursting into a brilliant golden yellow. The she-cat writhed in pain and horror as the light and darkness combusted, and she was thrown back into a silvery realm, into the clutches of sleep.

Chapter One
Runningpaw licked the last bits of vole from his lips, then stood and stretched his lean body. Looking around, he saw that, as usual, GrassClan's camp was quiet. To Runningpaw, it seemed like his warrior ceremony couldn't get here fast enough.

There was one other apprentice in the clan, a moon younger then him, but he rarely spoke to her. There was something odd, or at least different, about Sunnypaw. She had large green orbs for eyes, and a pale coat that looked like it was made from molten gold. Runningpaw kept his distance from her, not exactly because he disliked her, but because when he looked into her large eyes, he felt as if taking a step towards friendship with her would suck him into a deep abyss that he could never get out of. Like there was much more to her then the pretty she-cat who excelled at hunting that the rest of the clan saw. But he could see it. And it kind of scared him.

"Runningpaw!" Barkleaf, their medicine cat, was walking towards him. "Can you take this mouse-bile and get rid of the elder's ticks?"

Though on the inside he cringed as he picked up the foul smelling pouch, he had to admit that, pathetically, this was the most exciting thing that had happened all morning.

"Sure Barkleaf," he mumbled around it.

"Thank you," the brown tom meowed. "I have to go harvest some dock and marigold, and I had no time to do it. Get Sunnypaw too, if you can find her."

"I think she's out hunting," he put in hastily, which was partly true. The young she-cat was an excellent hunter, and it was probably what she was doing right now. Either way, he wasn't about to go looking for her.