Fight or Flight

"Littlepaw!"

A small gray apprentice's ears pricked as a familiar voice called his name. His mentor, Foxfeather, was trotting across the clearing of Mapleclan's camp toward him. His dark ginger pelt glinted in the midday sunlight and Littlepaw stood to greet him warmly. He deeply respected the confident warrior. Dipping his head, he listened for what plans his mentor had for him today.

"I am a little concerned with Thinflower, since her kits were due a few sunpasses ago, so I am going to stay with her today. I want you to go out hunting with Moonpaw and Hawkpaw today." 

"Of course, Foxfeather," Littlepaw replied. "Send Thinflower my well-wishes."

Foxfeather purred his gratitude and turned to pad off toward where the clan's medicine-cat, Ripplinglake, was waiting outside the stony overhang that marked the entrance to the nursery. He met the intelligent cat's eyes, one brown and one pale blue, and then began looking around for his fellow apprentices. Marigoldpaw lounged on a warm patch of sand and he padded up to her. 

"Hey," he mewed. She blinked in response, her eyes reflecting the sunlight like liquid gold. "Have you seen Moonpaw and Hawkpaw?" 

"I think they just left with their mentors," she replied. "You better hurry if you want to catch them."

Littlepaw nodded his thanks to the bright ginger she-cat and then turned to sprint off toward the camp entrance. He could scent the cats he was searching for and knew they were not far away. Suddenly, a flash of silver appeared before him and he had no time to react before running headfirst into the back end of Moonpaw. He bowled her over, sending Hawkpaw into a fit of laughter as he watched from a few tail-lengths away. She sat up, shaking dirt from her whiskers, and playfully swatted the younger tom with sheathed claws. 

"You mousebrain!" she growled teasingly. "We're hunting prey not each other!"

Before Littlepaw could respond to her, Moonpaw's mentor Robinheart appeared from the bushes. 

"You three are going to scare off all the prey with that racket!" he hissed. His green eyes rested on Littlepaw. "Glad to see you could make it slowpoke." There was playfulness in his voice, but Littlepaw still dipped his head in apology.

Hawkpaw's mentor, a gray tabby she-cat named Mousewhisker, who was also the clan deputy, emerged behind Robinheart and motioned for them to be on their way. Littlepaw waited for the two older apprentices to follow them and then took up the tail end of the patrol. 

The forest was green and alive with birdsong. Leaves fluttered overhead, making the shadows on the ground shift across Moonpaw's pelt as she strolled ahead of Littlepaw. He watched her move without restraint, knowing that no one would see him staring since everyone was in front of him. His heart thudded with longing. He had swooned after the beautiful young she-cat for as long as he could remember, but he knew from the way that she looked at him that these feelings weren't reciprocated. She paused and turned her head upward, her glinting yellow eyes searching the lower branches. She tensed and he watched as she sprung upward and snatched a squirrel that had been concealed from sight. It hit the ground with a squeak that was abruptly cut off by Moonpaw's mouth on its neck. 

"Well done, Moonpaw!" Robinheart purred. Moonpaw straightened up happily under the praise from her mentor. 

She buried the squirrel and they carried on, stopping a few times as they collected two more mice, and Littlepaw a thrush that was pecking at some blackberry seeds. He wished Foxfeather had been there to see his hunter's crouch, but reminded himself that the clan deputy was here today. Mousewhisker looked at him warmly as he straightened up with the fat bird in his jaws and a feather on his nose. Littlepaw padded on, following Robinheart's reddish-brown pelt as he weaved through the draping green fronds. Suddenly, he froze, causing Hawkpaw to hit his face off his flank. 

Hawkpaw stiffened, opening his mouth to get a better scent. The pale tabby tom was nearly bigger than Robinheart and he stretched his ears forward. "Dog…" he whispered. "DOG!"

Just then, a huge black and brown dog exploded from the bushes a few fox-lengths away. Its tall pointy ears swiveled in the direction of the cats and its pink tongue lolled out of its mouth, as if it had been running a long time. 

"Run!" Mousewhisker yowled, pelting away from the dog, but not toward the camp. The dog erupted into a frenzy of barks and it took a few moments for Littlepaw to force his feet to move away from the terrible creature. Its huge paws thudded against the forest floor and its panting sounded as if it were inside the small cat's head. There was a shriek and Littlepaw leapt for the nearest tree trunk. He scrambled up to the lowest branch and turned bristling to see who had cried out. Moonpaw was crawling away, toward his tree, and Hawkpaw was up on his hindlegs clawing at the dog's muzzle and eyes. The dog yelped but did not seem about to run away and Littlepaw fought from crying out in fear for the brave young cat.

Movement caught his eye and he saw a flash of gray and russet fur as Mousewhisker and Robinheart sprinted side by side to his aid. The dog took three sets of claws to the face a few times, paused, seemed to think better of it, and backed away before disappearing into the trees once more.

Littlepaw jumped down from the branch and ran to the others. Moonpaw was already there, thanking Hawkpaw with a shaking voice. 

"What happened?" Mousewhisker growled. "Why did you stop running?"

"I fell,"Moonpaw told her, her yellow eyes still wide with fear. "Hawkpaw came back for me and gave me a chance to regain my footing."

Mousewhisker's ears twitched in thought. "Well done, Hawkpaw. That was a brave thing to do in the face of such danger." 

Hawkpaw dipped his head in embarrassment from the praise and Moonpaw licked his cheek. Littlepaw felt a hot flash of jealousy rush through him. He should have turned to help too, instead of cowering in the tree. He had been an apprentice for hardly a moon, and had never faced such a threat yet, but realized he had lost a chance to prove himself.

They shook the last of the nerves from their minds and retraced their steps to collect their buried prey. Hawkpaw caught a rabbit not far from the camp and carried it proudly with him, Moonpaw shadowing him from behind. She was typically a very strong and independent she-cat, but Littlepaw suspected she had been shaken from the fright. His ears turned back. That should be him. 

As soon as they entered the camp again, Mousewhisker trotted over to the hollow log to the side of the clearing where the clan leader, Whitestar, made his den. He was already sitting outside and stood as he saw his deputy's urgent approach. Littlepaw could not hear their conversation from where he stood, but could guess what was being said. Whitestar turned his piercing gray-blue eyes on the group and then on Hawkpaw. He was a very old cat, his pelt so white that the gray hairs scattered throughout it from age were darker than the rest of his fur. He had never lost any nobility as he aged, though, and he was intimidating to say in the least. Littlepaw felt very thankful to have been born under his leadership, and also as his only son. 

Littlepaw turned away as the patrol split up, trying not to let his gaze linger as Hawkpaw led Moonpaw over to Ripplinglake's den. He noticed she walked with a slight limp from when she had tripped. He sighed and set his thrush down on the fresh-kill pile before choosing a mouse for himself and going to sit beside Marigoldpaw's brother, Cloudpaw. He was mostly white, but had brown tabby patches on his head, back, and tail. The tom's green eyes pierced him knowingly. 

"You know, she'll never understand how you feel unless you tell her," he mewed nonchalantly. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Littlepaw replied, taking a big bite from his mouse so he could stall longer if he needed to. The two had been nursery-mates, since they were two moons apart, and had always been very close. He knew Cloudpaw would not fall for anything he said.

Cloudpaw scoffed at him. "You know very well what I'm talking about, fishbreath. You've been following her around like a hungry kit since you could walk."

"It doesn't matter," Littlepaw grumbled. "She doesn't look at me that way." 

"That will never change unless you talk to her about it."

Littlepaw looked at Cloudpaw for a moment, but shook his head. Soon after, Hawkpaw and Moonpaw re-emerged from the medicine-den side by side. She no longer limped as she padded over to get something to eat. Littlepaw watched with slight satisfaction as she chose the thrush he had caught for herself.