EMBERPAW

"Catch me if you can!" Her mentor's voice bounced off of the canyon walls as Runningheart raced past her, his ginger fur almost blending in with the rock around him. Shaking her head, Emberpaw picked up the pace, deciding to humour him. Used to her mentor's competitive nature, she joined in on his competitions often, if only to get out of cleaning dens for the night. Her tortoiseshell body moved over the canyon floor in pursuit of the red tabby, wondering what the stakes would be this time around. Behind her, she heard Sparrowstar purring at her brother's antics and the cheering of Martenfur as he egged the two on.

"Last one to Big Rock is fetching the other prey tomorrow morning!" Runningheart yelled over his shoulder and Emberpaw rolled her eyes at this, but spurred herself on all the same. Despite her tendency to be harsh, which often resulted in denials to his challenges, the wild side of her had taken over today and she found herself enjoying their little chase. Her paws pounded against the rocky ground in a steady rhythm and the apprentice realized she was gaining on her mentor. A small purr erupted from her as the wind rushed past her, tickling her whiskers.

Runningheart reached Big Rock first, but the tortoiseshell apprentice did not feel disappointed. With little at stake, she ran the race more for the enjoyment of it, not the win. Her mentor, on the other hand, always wanted to win, and he crowed over his victory now. Rolling her eyes once more, Emberpaw accepted defeat, knowing there was no way to get away from his competitiveness; she had already tried.

Sometimes, she wondered what drove Sparrowstar to pair her with the ginger tom. Oftentimes, he acted more kit-like than she did, almost as if the roles were reversed. The leader was Runningheart's littermate, though, which might have driven her to make the decision in the hopes that his competitiveness would be dulled by a despondent apprentice.

Sparrowstar, who walked up behind them, did not at all seem bothered by the fact that her plan, if it had been so, did not work. In fact, she seemed in high spirits and her green eyes were alight with laughter. Flicking her tail across Runningheart's ear, she chided him playfully for fooling around when he should be patrolling. Emberpaw watched their exchange, wondering if the two had always been like this. The young tortoiseshell herself had two brothers and all they ever did was fight - not playfully, like the two warriors before her, but as siblings often did.

"Perhaps you should race me sometime. I'd make sure you won." Her ear was suddenly filled by Martenfur's voice and the tortoiseshell flicked her tail in annoyance. The red-brown tabby was known for his friendliness, especially with the she-cats of the Clan. Not a single one was safe from compliments or flattery when it came to Martenfur.

"And I'd make sure to leave you in the dust," she replied sharply. Refusing to give Martenfur even a shred of amusement, Emberpaw waited patiently for her mentor or leader to give her further instructions. The sun was beginning to disappear over the horizon and she assumed that they would be heading back to the camp soon. The apprentice's suspicions were confirmed when Sparrowstar marked the border.

At Sparrowstar's nod, the patrol moved back in the direction of the Clan's camp. The soft swishing of the wind accompanied them, providing a welcome reprieve from the last of the sun's hot rays. With any luck, the wind would cause the canyon to cool overnight, making sleep more comfortable. Emberpaw could not remember the last night she hadn't woken up sweating since RockClan's arrival in the canyon. It seemed that greenleaf was much harsher in the canyon than it was in the mountains; heatstroke seemed almost more commonplace now than greencough in leaf-bare. Because of this, the Clan made sure to have an early start to their day, dawn patrols going out before the sun rose and evening patrols going out just as the sun set. During the hottest parts of the day, the Clan spent their time in the coolness of their dens, going out only once the deadly heat receded.

Their shadows moved alongside them as they moved through the cooling air, black partners that stretched out across the length of the canyon and up the red walls. Emberpaw shot her mentor an unamused look when he pointed out that his shadow was bigger than hers and, as a result, she lost to him once more.

Suddenly, Sparrowstar stopped and the patrol with her. Emberpaw watched as the tortoiseshell sniffed at the air, her ears flicking this way and that as she tried to pick up something the apprentice could not hear. Emberpaw did the same, attempting to pick up on what her leader sensed.

After a moment, Sparrowstar relaxed, mewing that she must have overreacted to the sound of the wind. Runningheart flicked his tail over her flank playfully and Martenfur shrugged, turning to Emberpaw to make a comment of some sort.

The apprentice, however, was not paying attention. While the rest of the patrol gave up their search for any scent or sound of an intruder, Emberpaw continued. 'Everything will be alright,' was the thought that flitted through her head, followed by, 'just an overreaction, of course,' but the thoughts weren't her own. Shaking her head, she turned back to the warriors she was following.

The glint of fangs caught the corner of her eye and, fur bristling, she turned in the direction of the predator, a fierce snarl on her face. The tortoiseshell found herself staring at a long, skinny body covered with brown and red scales that blended into the canyon floor almost perfectly. Every time the creature moved, Emberpaw heard the faintest rattling sound, like the sound bones made when they scraped across each other.

"Watch out!" she cried as the rattlesnake moved towards the rest of the patrol. Her warning came too late. In horror, she watched as the snake pulled its head back, then lunged forward once more, burying its long sharp fangs in the throat of the tortoiseshell leader.

In that moment, it felt as if Emberpaw's head might explode, not from the shriek that Sparrowstar gave off as the fangs slipped under her skin, but from the scream she heard in her own head; almost as if she were hearing Sparrowstar's thoughts as the poison entered her, the pain resounding through Emberpaw's head, causing black spots to appear before her amber eyes.

And then, just as suddenly as they came, the sounds disappeared, and the only thing running through Emberpaw's head was, "My last life... I'm dying". Eyes stretched wide, the apprentice turned to the rest of the patrol, taking in the tragic sight. Runningheart stood over the Sparrowstar's twitching body, a stricken look on his face. Martenfur stood nearby, the rattlesnake hanging from his jaws.

The two toms shifted Sparrowstar onto their broad shoulders in an attempt to move her back towards the camp. Emberpaw grabbed the rattlesnake, careful to avoid the fangs should there still be poison on them, and followed. She tried to stay a little further behind the two warriors; if she got too close, her head swam from the multitude of thoughts flitting through it.

The patrol did not get far before Sparrowstar's breathing turned shallow. She asked for her warriors to stop and leave her, but they continued, unwilling to leave her behind. Finally, she commanded them to halt, at which they placed her on the hard floor of the canyon.

No one spoke, their eyes on Sparrowstar as she took in shuddering breaths. All three knew it was too late - the camp was too far away and, by the time they got there, the tortoiseshell leader would be dead. Emberpaw kept her eyes trained on her leader, unable to look away as death fell upon her.

"Bury me on the cliff," Sparrowstar rasped, her green eyes closing as it became harder and harder to breath. "So I can... I can watch over... my Clan." The she-cat let out one last short, shallow breath before becoming absolutely still.

Runningheart let out a sob, pushing his nose into the fur of Sparrowstar's scruff, where the warmth of life was still present. Emberpaw dropped the rattlesnake, disgusted by its very existence.

"We should get her back to camp," Martenfur whispered to Runningheart and the ginger tom just nodded, likely finding it hard to say anything. Emberpaw watched as they lifted Sparrowstar's body between them and, with slow steps, walked back in the direction of camp.

The tortoiseshell apprentice sat in the last light of the setting sun, watching the figures of the warriors becoming smaller and smaller as they walked away. It felt as if she could not move, her muscles frozen in place with the shock of what happened.

It was only when she heard Martenfur call for her that she lifted herself to her paws and, with one last look at the rattlesnake that killed Sparrowstar, turned to follow the diminished patrol.

A/N: Why does killing characters off hurt so much? :/