Pawprints In The Snow/Chapter One

Chapter One (Rainy)
Why did no one wake me?

Frostmoon stood and shook out her glossy white coat, her brow furrowing. Usually all the warriors were up by now, hunting or patrolling, for reasons that became more obvious with each passing day. RiverClan had to be constantly on its paws nowadays, trying to hunt for all its members while keeping the other Clans at bay.

Padding out into the camp, she glanced about. All was quiet; the morning patrols had already gone out. ''I guess I just got lucky. ''A fact she was reasonably pleased with. It wasn't every day that she got a few extra hours of sleep, and she would cherish them while she could.

"Good morning Frostmoon," a voice chirped from nearby. Glancing to her side, she saw Rosefur watching her with a kind smile on her face. The queen's kits were inside the nursery, where they could be safe from the biting winds of leaf-bare.

"Good morning," she greeted the red-furred she-cat. "Have the hunting patrols gone out already?"

Rosefur nodded. "Everyone wanted to get a head start on the day." She shot a worried look at the depleting fresh-kill pile.

Frostmoon followed her gaze understandingly. "I'll go out for a quick hunt. Maybe I can bring back some prey for you and the kits."

"Thank you," the queen said with a smile.

Nodding, Frostmoon bounded out of the camp. Her paws itched for the waters of the lake, and the feel of soft fish in her mouth. But she knew she couldn't have them, for two reasons among many. First, the lake was frozen, and paralyzingly cold beneath the ice-covered surface. Second, any prey she managged to catch would go to the kits and elders first.

Giving a small sigh, she sniffed the air and picked up the trail of a squirrel. At this point, any kind of prey was enough to make her mouth water, and she had to constantly remind herself that she was a warrior, and warriors provided for the Clan first.

"Where are you, little squirrel?" Frostmoon muttered under her breath, feeling one part skilled hunter, one part awkward fisher trying to flop around on land, and one part deranged starving physcopath.

She spotted the tiny creature digging up its store of nuts in the hardened snow. It was completely concentrating on its task, and didn't notice her stalking it, even when her inexperienced paws landed on a stray twig with a gentle crack. Hunting in the woods was not Frostmoon's thing. She leaped forward ungracefully, scattering snow everywhere and scrabbling madly with her claws as she blinked flakes out of her eyes. Finally, her paws hit flesh, and she dragged the squirrel down the tree, where she killed it rather messily.

"Not the most clean kill," she muttered. "But it'll have to do."

Picking it up in her jaws, she headed back towards the camp. Up ahead, she could see the dawn patrol doing the same. A cat here and there held prey, but in all, their catch was woefully slim. She quickened her pace, eager to add her squirrel to the pile.

Upon entering the camp, Frostmoon made straight for Rosefur, only to see that the queen's mate, Shadepelt, was already there, supplying her with a vole. Hiding a smile, she dropped her fresh-kill on the pile instead.

"Frostmoon, will you go on the evening patrol later?" called Watershade, one of the senior warriors. Her blue-gray pelt was pressed into her prominent ribcage, and she looked weary already, though it was only morning. Frostmoon's guilt at having slept in arose again.

"Sure," she replied. "I'd be happy to."

Her Clanmate dipped her head gratefully and padded to the warrior's den, collapsing into her nest with the air of a cat who was too tired to do anything else at all.

A shiver ran through Frostmoon's lithe body as she gazed up at the silent winter sky. "Oh StarClan. How are we supposed to survive this leaf-bare?"

There was no reply.