STARLINGPAW

The droplets of rain that began to fall after Kestrelpaw's apprentice ceremony transformed into a torrential downpour in a matter of seconds. From the safety of the apprentice den, Starlingpaw watched as the water streaked through the air, blurring everything around her. The red rock of the canyon turned a dull orange in the storm and swelled the stream flowing through the centre of camp now double its size. Though the rain would undoubtedly soak her through in seconds, Starlingpaw loved the sound it made as it drummed against the canyon floor.

She sighed, paws itching to do something. Redblaze gave her the day off, saying that the rain would make both hunting and battle training difficult. Pebblepaw shot her down when the brief thought to visit the little ginger kit crossed her mind. Otterheart warned that she did not have the herbs to cure everyone of chills or fever, so anyone who wasn't absolutely required to leave the camp should stay put.

"I don't understand what's so fascinating about that rain," came a voice from behind her and Starlingpaw rolled her eyes, turning to face Whitepaw. He and his brother, Littlepaw, were sitting as far away from the den entrance as possible. On the opposite side of the den, Kestrelpaw and Emberpaw slept in their nests.

Keeping her voice low so as not to wake them, Starlingpaw replied, "I like the sound it makes and how everything blurs when it rains. Besides, maybe I'm just bored and have nothing better to do than watch it." She cocked her head to the side, curling her black tail over her white paws.

Whitepaw considered this. "Well, you could always go hunting out in that rain. If you can find any prey, that is." He twitched his whiskers into a sneer and Starlingpaw shot him a glare. Who was he to comment on her hunting skills, anyway? She brought back more prey than him five times out of six during training.

"Jealous that I'm a better hunter than you?" she growled back. Littlepaw's green eyes were flicking back and forth between the two cats nervously.

"Maybe I'm just stating the fact that prey is running low because of this rain." Whitepaw shrugged his broad shoulders.

Starlingpaw thought of the swelling river in the canyon and how much of the prey must be hiding to escape from the cold and wet air. Yet, the hunting patrols brought back a decent amount of prey the previous day, with Asterpaw and Leafpelt's rabbit being the largest. Then, she remembered the argument of that morning between Palethorn and Beetlestar.

"You don't seriously believe Palethorn, do you?" she mewed. The she-cat watched in disbelief as the two toms exchanged a look that told her they clearly did.

She snorted. "The Clan is clearly safer here than it is anywhere else. We've been here for over eight moons, which is already longer than any of the other places BrokenClan tried on their journey."

"Yes, we've been here for eight moons," Whitepaw cut in. "Don't know how long you've been around these parts for though."

The black she-cat felt a twinge of annoyance. "I'm only eight moons old. I've been here my whole life. Besides, what would you know of the other territories? You were only two moons old when you left the mountains."

"At least I was a part of the Clan before coming here. You wouldn't know what it's like to live anywhere else."

"Is Kestrelpaw not part of the Clan? What about Brightkit and Skykit - they were born here too!" Starlingpaw knew her voice was getting louder, but she didn't care.

Whitepaw was stumped for a moment, but Littlepaw answered for him. "That's different! They're Clan born."

If not for the fact that clawing their ears off would get her into trouble, Starlingpaw would have flung herself onto them in a heartbeat. She had to content herself with stalking up to them, eyes glinting and tail lashing angrily.

"I'm just as much a part of this Clan as you are," she hissed, finding her claws digging into the rock floor of the den.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." Whitepaw's eyes shone with contempt and amusement.

"And how would you like me to do that?"

The two toms exchanged a look before the larger one gave her her challenge: "Bring us back a piece of prey by sunset. Then we'll see just how much you're contributing to this Clan."

Though Starlingpaw still felt angry and indignant, she hesitated for a moment. The sudden sound of thunder reminded her that, if someone caught her leaving the camp alone in this weather, she'd be stuck cleaning the elders' den and nursery for moons.

"Scared?" That one word was enough to spur her forward. With one last glare in the direction of the two white apprentices, she pushed her way out into the rain.

The camp was ghostly still, not a cat in sight. Only the sound of rain permeated the air and, underneath it, the faint sounds of snoring that came from the warriors den above her. Quietly, Starlingpaw began to climb the path towards the cliff's edge.

When she reached the top, she felt as if the wind would topple her over. The rain fell more strongly here with less resistance from the cliff walls and Starlingpaw found no cover from the elements. Her only chance at shelter and, hopefully, prey, lay in the copse of trees near Carrion Place; in the canyon, the prey hid in the hollows and cracks, out of reach. Turning in the trees' direction, Starlingpaw set off through the long grasses, keeping herself low to the ground.

Each crack of thunder made her tremble and the cold rain made her shiver. Her ribs stuck out from the fur plastered to her body, making her look like an underfed loner. The thought of returning to camp crossed her mind multiple times, but she remembered Whitepaw's taunts and refused to let him win. She was too proud or, otherwise, too stupid to return without any prey.

Even before she reached Carrion Place, she knew her chances of finding prey were slim. Her sensitive hearing told her that the scampering paws of mice traveled underground or, in the cases of a couple of squirrels, within the trees.

Sighing in resignation, Starlingpaw decided to warm herself up first before attempting to catch some prey. She only had until sunset - whenever that was, in this StarClan forsaken storm.

The trees provided some shelter from the rain, but the leaf-littered ground was wet and her paws were already aching with the cold. Leaping up onto a low-hanging branch of the nearest oak, she curled herself up into a tight ball, hoping to keep at least some of her body heat from escaping.

No sooner had she hidden herself from view than she heard a new sound: the sound of soft pawsteps. Lifting her head ever so slightly to peer down from her perch, Starlingpaw saw a figure come into view. She felt her fur beginning to bristle, realizing that Whitepaw must have told one of the warriors she was missing.

But the cat that came into view was not one she recognized. He was broad-shouldered, with large paws and a thick tail that swayed back and forth as he walked. The tom looked about twice her age, maybe more, and, if it came to it, would win a fight against her. If he noticed her, she was as good as dead.

As luck would have it, a squirrel chose that exact moment to skitter down the tree trunk, flying over Starlingpaw's head and landing on the ground right below her. Before she could stop herself, the she-cat dropped down after it, landing squarely on its small back and breaking it with a crunch. A second later, a large grey shape barrelled into her and she found herself flattened to the ground, two massive paws on either side of her head.

The bared teeth of the tom disappeared, replaced by a look of confusion as he gazed down at her with yellow eyes. Starlingpaw stared back with her matching ones, triumph at having caught a piece of prey replaced by fear.

"You're not a squirrel," the tom said, bemused. "What are you doing here?" He sniffed at her suspiciously.

"Hunting." Starlingpaw's reply came out as a squeak as the larger cat pushed his nose into her throat.

The tom's expression soured. "You're one of those Clan cats from the canyon, aren't you?" His eyes narrowed and the she-cat gulped, realizing he did not speak of RockClan fondly.

"What would you do if I was?" she asked, dreading the answer even before the words were out of her mouth.

Starlingpaw thought she saw the tom's whiskers twitch in amusement before he gave his response. "Well, I could claw your ears off. I could take your prey. I could kill you, if I really wanted to. Or, I could ask you why you're hunting here, on my territory?"

The she-cat blinked her large yellow eyes up at him, terror coursing through her veins. It took her a moment to understand that the question he'd asked was not rhetorical. When the realization dawned on her, she saw the hard light in the tom's eyes fade a little.

"One of the other apprentices said I wouldn't be able to catch any prey in this storm, so I came here to prove him wrong." As she was saying this, she realized just how unintelligent she must sound, taking such an immature challenge from a tom who passed the time being a thorn in everyone's side.

This time, the gray tom's whiskers did twitch in amusement. "If you weren't able to catch anything in this storm, I'd say you're not trying hard enough. Either that, or you're not a very good hunter."

Starlingpaw found the fear slowly begin to fade as the loner let her up. Rolling to her paws and shaking out her drenched fur, she said, "He isn't very good at it."

"You must be." The tom's eyes were on the squirrel she had crushed underneath her weight, a hungry light in his eyes. Taking a moment to study him, Starlingpaw noticed that, though he was large, he was incredibly thin.

Suddenly feeling sorry for the loner, she padded over to the freshkill and pushed it towards him with her nose. She looked up to meet his eyes and saw a curious light in them.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Starlingpaw." The she-cat shuffled her paws in front of her as the tom's eyes travelled over her.

"You certainly look like one," he said. "I'm Wolf."

"I've never seen one, so I can't tell if you're like one or not," she replied honestly. This earned her a short bark of amusement from him before his eyes returned to the squirrel.

Again, she pushed it towards him. "Have it. I might find something else on my way back." Wolf looked a little bit skeptical but at another nod from her, he gobbled it up, fluffy tail and all.

"Thank you," he said, licking his jaws clean.

"You looked like you needed it," Starlingpaw said quietly, rising to her paws. "I should get going. I wasn't supposed to leave the camp at all today."

"Why not?" The look of pure curiosity on his face stopped the she-cat and she couldn't help but answer his question.

"I'm only an apprentice. I'm not allowed to leave camp alone, especially in this weather. We don't have the herbs to treat a whole bunch of sick cats." As she spoke, she realized that Wolf might not understand the Clan's ways. "I guess you wouldn't understand what living by the rules is like. You're probably all on your own."

Wolf snorted. "I wish I was. No, my family is a bunch of loners that are supposed to take care of each other. As you can probably tell, we don't." He flicked his tail at his ribcage and Starlingpaw felt a pang in her chest. Even if some of the cats in RockClan didn't accept her, at least she had her littermates.

Glancing up at the treetops, she saw that it was still pouring and just the thought of having to cross the open plains made her unbearably tired. Looking back at the tom, she saw him crouching down in what might have been called a kits' hunter's crouch. He was inching forward towards a mouse, but his poor form caused the wet leaves to shift underneath him and the rodent disappeared in a flash.

"Here, let me show you," was all Starlingpaw said before joining him.