Breezepetal

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I come cautiously into camp with the dripping water vole in my mouth. Tail down, eyes watchful, and in a stance that was both boring and nonthreatening, nobody noticed my presence, although I noticed Larchspeckle, my ex, flicking his tail as if he'd noticed someone who he disliked had entered the camp.

Snowdrop literally leaps over me, calling: "Raypaw! You were supposed to bring prey to the Seniors, not to the Queens!" 

I sigh, even though it was always like this. Since my three siblings, mother, and father were killed by an everlasting Winter, it was almost like I had become a wisp of mist. Able to disappear at the faintest, and barely visible, barely there...

This is why I feel more relaxed, more here in the Flowering Forest or the Path of a Thousand Streams. In my own Clan, I feel like a ghost, a spirit among the living.

I Drop my vole on the fresh-kill pile, which had been already been stocked by hunting patrols, and turned to a secluded, shady spot under some not-yet full-grown trees. As my feet, head, whole body swiveled over to begin walking toward the spot, I freeze with my right front paw in the air. A bird? No. It is clearly a cat, darker then night, with piercing golden eyes. But not one I knew. Then right before my disbelieving eyes, the cat narrows it's eerie golden eyes into slits, and disappears in a cloud of smoke and ash. I could almost feel the bitter, sharp sting of ash in my nose and throat. I glanced around frantically, still frozen in spot, noticing some cats giving me weird looks. I ignore them. That cat, it could've been anyone. Maybe the light was playing tricks on my eyes, and it was just Fogclaw or Crowwing. Or Duskstar. But there was something... something about that cat that just radiated wrongness. Like it wasn't really there. Like a reflection or something. It was hard to describe it... hmm. Sort of like it was impossible to focus on the figure, even though you are staring right at it.

I shake myself, but don't let it go. This is important. I won't make the mistake of ignoring this. As I settle into my spot on a cool, not-quite-dry but not-quite-wet patch of moss, lost in thought. Maybe the clan guardian? No. Spring isn't a black cat. And, of course, she would never be so sinister, not like that thing, whatever it was. Maybe it was just a shadow, a weird shaped bush or a tree? Nah, I would never have that lu- 

I cut this thought off abruptly.

Shadow.

It strikes me like a bolt of lightning. I had only heard of the shadow creatures in stories when I was a kit, laying in the nest with my siblings. And even those were vague and mysterious, lots of it just guessing. They were always described as black cats with glowing amber or green eyes. But maybe they were wrong. Probably. I try and absorb as much of the image of the shadow in my head, my brow furrowing and my eyes closing as I thought hard. I felt the light breeze flow through my fur and tickle my whiskers, making my ears twitch. 

Black cat.

Glowing eyes, though golden, not amber or green.

Ash.

Smoke.

Reflection.

I breath deeply, and open my eyes slowly.

Shadow.

Shadow.

Shadow.

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I find out I dozed off as I wake up, still in my mossy spot, as the last sliver of light from the sun dips over the horizon. I start to sigh, then freeze mid-breath. I had nearly forgotten about the shadow. I dip my head to rest on my paws, and stare at the rippling grass ahead, a feeling like fog of hopelessness is creeping through my body. How can one cat, who is a ghost in her clan, barely listened to, barely even glanced at, save her clan from a shadow, of all creatures? Just as I was about to sigh again, I heard a sound that instantly turned my blood to ice.

It was a thin, high-pitched shriek. It sounded like a cat, but also.... didn't. I got up as quietly as I could to go an investigate, a horrible suspicion flooding me. As I crept closer to the sound, I realized it was coming from behind the bushes that encircled the camp. I put one paw up, then the other, then repeat, until I was high enough to just peek over the bushes, some which had several uncomfortable twigs poking into my belly fur. I ignore the feeling and tense my ears, realizing the... cat but not cat was only a few foxlengths away from me. The shriek comes again, but fainter. The cat has it's back to me, but I can see in the faint moonlight that it is not black, but dark ginger. Relief swamped me, but I frowned. Shadow or not, why was this cat, who I now realized was Flameskip, be out of camp alone... and making those blood-curling shrieks? 

Then Flameskip turns toward me, and I just stop myself from screaming. 

The cat has no face.

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After a few moments, I realized I had exaggerated. The cat had no eyes, yes, but it still had a mouth and nose. Not that it made it any better. My heart was still pounding it's way out of her chest. It was like my breath had flown into the sky. The cat which didn't feel like Flameskip was muttering under it's breath. 

Then it shrieked again.

And suddenly I recognized words in it.

"It is eating my soul."

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EHEHE cliffhanger.

Anyways, what do you guys think? I'll admit I've enjoyed writing in first person, it's a nice way to practice!  

WORD COUNT,,

968