"Oh, what a great day to be a warrior!"
Stormthroat couldn't remember the last day she hadn't thought those words to herself, no matter how scorching hot or how stormy it got outside. Any day where she was able to go hunt for her clan, patrol the borders, and run through the grass was a good day to be a warrior. She often went out to do these things by herself; Stormthroat wasn't any faster than most WindClanners, but she found it hard to wait up for anybody. However, she'd been feeling a little lonely lately, and wanted to bring a friend along. So she'd asked Blackberryfoot, an older warrior, to accompany her for the day, and he had agreed.
"We should check the border with RiverClan," the black-footed tabby suggested as they finished renewing the scent markers on the ThunderClan border. Stormthroat nodded in agreement, and the two headed off. "So, how is being a warrior?" he asked. "Everything you ever expected it to be?"
'"And more," Stormthroat purred in reply. "Does it ever get less exciting?"
Blackberryfoot waited for a moment before replying. "I don't want to be the one who ruins the fun of it for you, but eventually, it just becomes life. I still love my clan, and my clanmates, and I want to protect them, but the thrill just isn't there anymore. Besides, the elder's den is calling me. It won't be but a few more moons, I'm sure."
The silver tabby stared at her clanmate as they walked. Most of the other warriors she spoke to seemed to still think being a warrior was the most amazing life ever. But she supposed she only really talked to younger cats, for the most part. Other cats who had only been a warrior for a few moons. She hadn't put much thought into it at first, but when she did, she realized Blackberryfoot must have been quite a few seasons older than herself.
"Besides, the more battles you face, the closer you get to the one where you lose someone who it'll really hurt to lose. Whether it be your sibling, your parents, your mentors, and even StarClan forbid a deputy or a leader. After that happens, well..." Blackberryfoot stopped, sighing and shaking his head. "Don't let me ruin your optimism, Stormthroat. If you truly love being a warrior, you always will."
"Does that mean you... don't truly love being a warrior?" she asked hesitantly. Blackberryfoot offered a small, sad smile.
"I love WindClan with every fur on my pelt," he answered. "But there are other paths my paws could've walked I think I might've preferred over this one."
There was a longing look in the old warrior's blue eyes, and Stormthroat turned to look ahead of them. It felt intrusive to dig into Blackberryfoot's past, and he seemed as though he would rather not speak about it. The pair walked in silence until they reached the ThunderClan border. It didn't seem as though anything was out of the ordinary. She picked up the smell of a ThunderClan patrol, but they must have passed by far before for the scent to be as faint as it was.
Since there didn't seem to be anything of interest on the border, Stormthroat couldn't keep her curiosity over Blackberryfoot's past at bay. "What path-?" she began, but Blackberryfoot cut her off.
"Don't worry about it. Just heed my advice: if you ever find anything you value more than your being a warrior, take the other path. If nothing is more important to you, you will never have to worry about it. Now let's head back."[/color]
Stormthroat nodded, turning with Blackberryfoot to head back towards camp. But as she started to walk away, she noticed the old warrior wasn't following her. "Blackberryfoot?" she asked, looking over her shoulder. Blackberryfoot was standing there, eyes wide, back arched. Stormthroat followed his gaze, but the scent finally hit her before she even saw it. A giant dog, staring them down, snarling. She hissed, unsheathing her claws, but Blackberryfoot flicked his tail dismissively.
"A warrior your age and a warrior my age aren't enough to take down a dog of that size. You run back to camp, get more warriors. I can keep it distracted for that long."
"No!" Stormthroat meowed quietly. "I won't let you deal with that thing alone. We can chase it off together."
Blackberryfoot's blue eyes were filled with doubt, but he nodded. "Very well. StarClan willing, we'll both survive this. I trust you, Stormthroat. Now let's go."
Before she could reply, Blackberryfoot was charging towards the dog, and he leapt up onto the beast's face, latching onto it and scratching everywhere he could reach, pummeling it's throat with his back paws. Stormthroat followed as quickly as she could, leaping onto its back and sinking her fangs into its ear. The dog snarled, shaking viciously, and Stormthroat dug her claws into its fur. It spun around, before shoving its face into the ground. Blackberryfoot yowled, letting go and swiping at the dog's eyes. The dog stumbled back, shaking itself again. Stormthroat felt herself slipping, and jumped off of the dog before it could throw her off.
"We're not doing anything to it!" Realization hit Stormthroat like a monster, and she stared in horror as the dog started back towards Blackberryfoot. "We have to run!"
"It's too late for that!" Blackberryfoot meowed. "Stormthroat, you go back! Get help! I'll be fine! If you wait until I'm dead, it'll just follow you back to camp."
"I'm not leaving you!"
Stormthroat hissed, charging towards the dog, swiping at the beast's nose, driving it back. For a moment, it seemed to be working. The dog was backing off. But suddenly, it growled, and it lunged forwards, its powerful teeth aimed right at Stormthroat.
The young warrior felt something slam into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. She heard a cry of pain unlike any she had ever heard before, one that chilled her to the core. She forced herself to her paws, turning to face the dog again, but she let out a scream of horror, almost unable to move. The dog had Blackberryfoot in its jaws, and was shaking him back and forth, sinking its teeth into his back. "Stormthroat! Run!" she heard the warrior shout using what little strength he had left. But she couldn't bring herself to move. How could she have let this happen? They should have run when Blackberryfoot first saw the dog.
The beast flung its head one more time, letting go of Blackberryfoot. Stormthroat watched, terrified, as the warrior's body flew, hitting the ground and sliding a bit, before staying disturbingly still. She could see blood covering his body. He was gone. And now the dog was going to turn on her.
