GROUNDSQUIRREL

            Groundsquirrel woke up just before sunhigh. Yawning, he rose quickly to his feet, searching the den for Flowerburst. He was the only one still in the warriors den. The dawn patrol had already returned to camp when he grabbed a thrush from the fresh-kill pile.

            Groundsquirrel couldn’t find Flowerburst. Suddenly, he saw her eating in the shade with Woodpelt. His tail drooped as he remembered the admiring looks Flowerburst had been giving Woodpelt. It couldn’t be true! She had to like him more than Woodpelt. He settled down on a sunny patch of grass, shooting hostile looks at Woodpelt every few seconds.

            “Hey, sleepyhead!” he heard Cloudtail meow behind him. Gulping down the last of his thrush, he spun around to face the white warrior. “Would you like to go hunting with me and Lilyblossom?”

            “Sure,” he mumbled half-heartedly.

            Groundsquirrel stopped when he saw a vole. He carelessly snapped a twig as he was stalking it, and it scampered away. “I know you can do better than that, Groundsquirrel!” Cloudtail exclaimed from behind him.

            “Sorry,” he muttered.

            “‘Sorry’ catches no prey,” Cloudtail snapped.

            A little bit later, a mouse darted right past Groundsquirrel’s paws, but he missed it with a clumsy swipe of his paw. “A kit could have done better than that!” Cloudtail exclaimed. “If you can’t focus, then you might as well just go back to camp!”

            “Calm down, Cloudtail,” Lilyblossom said. “What is wrong, Groundsquirrel?”

            “Nothing,” he lied.

            Lilyblossom sighed. “I know that isn’t the truth, but I won’t keep asking,” she meowed quietly.

            Groundsquirrel heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. “Groundsquirrel!” a voice hissed quietly.

            Groundsquirrel stopped. “Groundsquirrel!” the voice hissed again. “Come over here for a second.”

            Groundsquirrel tasted the air, but the only scent he could pick up was the pungent odor of wild garlic. The others had just seemed to notice that he had stopped. “I’ll be right there,” Groundsquirrel said.

            Groundsquirrel stuck his nose into the bush. He saw a light brown face with narrowed amber eyes staring at him. He sank his claws into the soft ground to keep them from clawing Woodpelt’s face.

            “What do you want?” Groundsquirrel hissed with his teeth clenched. “And why do you smell like garlic?”

            “I ‘fell’ into a patch of it while I was hunting with Flowerburst,” Woodpelt replied calmly.

            Groundsquirrel stiffened. Woodpelt had been hunting with Flowerburst?  “And as for why I’m here, I saw you hunting with Flowerburst yesterday.”

            “Yes, I did. Why is it of your concern?” Groundsquirrel meowed, forcing his voice to stay calm.

            “That she-cat is going to be my mate, not yours!” Woodpelt replied, his amber eyes blazing with hatred. “Leave her alone! Or else you will face my wrath!”

            “Woodpelt, are you coming?” Flowerburst called from somewhere behind Woodpelt.

            “Yes,” Woodpelt said. “I thought I saw squirrel over here but there was nothing.”

            “Then, come on,” she meowed impatiently. “I want to catch more prey than this skinny mouse today!”

            Woodpelt whispered, “Get out of here, fox-dung!”

            Groundsquirrel watched, seething, as Woodpelt walked away.