The white tabby deputy approached Whitefox. "I want you to go hunting this afternoon." Dayflower mewed. Whitefox grunted, standing up from where he was resting.

"Where should I hunt?" the white warrior inquired.

"Just around ShadowClan border," Dayflower mewed. "That seems to have the best hunting these days."

          Whitefox nodded, appreciately noting that the deputy didn't ask him to take any cats. Dayflower knew that Whitefox was a more closed off cat; he preferred to be on his own then have a senior warrior breathing down his back whenever he missed a catch. He found it quite annoying.

          Dayflower gave him a sympathetic look, "Whitefox, are you alright?" she meowed gently. The white she-cat knew the younger tom well; she did mentor him. Whitefox didn't look at her, but nodded. He already knew that she wouldn't be convinced. "I know things seem pointless to you," Dayflower mewed, "but I promise that living life as a ThunderClan warrior is the best thing you could possibly do in life. Trust me." And with that, she left.

Pushing what his former mentor had just told him to the back of his mind, he trudged through the forest towards where he'd patrolled that morning. He spotted the white flower again, and he couldn't help but stare. The flower stood alone, in the middle of a clearing. It stood out from the rest, about a few fox-lengths away from a patch of flowers. The other flowers were a mix of different colors; blue, yellow, pink, and many, many more. He felt like he was the white flower. He stood out from his Clanmates, he stood alone.

Out of the corner of his yellow eye, he spotted a mouse making it's way towards the white flower. His eyes narrowed, he didn't want the flower to get ruined. He ducked down in hunter's crouch, and began lightly padding towards the mouse. He pounced on it, quickly nipping it's spine, killing it before it could make a noise.

          Soon after the mouse died, he felt himself being bowled over, in a flurry of swipes. Hissing in fury, Whitefox flipped his attacker over, and got a good look at him. The cat that attacked him was a gray tom with a torn ear. The tom's glowing amber eyes bore into Whitefox's fur, making the tom angry. Whitefox used his back claws to throw his attacker off, and pinning him down.

          "That was my mouse!" The dark tom spat at Whitefox.

          Whitefox flattened his ears, growling dangerously into the tom's unshredded ear, "you mess with me again, I won't let you get away so easily,"

And with that, Whitefox lifted his weight off the tom, giving him a warning look, and the gray tom shot the warrior an uncertain glance before taking off, away from him.

          Whitefox had no pride in himself. Why did warriors get adrenaline when they are in a battle? It was dangerous, no cat should like going into battle.

          Whitefox sighed, turning, picking up his catch and went back to camp to have his wounds checked.