Fight or Flight

The two apprentices laid together and watched as the sun began to sink over the treetops, speaking of the dog attack and the rumors of twolegs tying strange, bright orange grasses around tree trunks at the southern end of Mapleclan's territory. The greenleaf air was hot and dry and Littlepaw stretched out as far as could on the dirt to try and cool himself. He looked up to see the first warrior of Starclan glittering through the leaves over his head, the sky tinted purple around it. Fireflies began to blink around the edges of the clearing and Petaltail's single kit, Fernkit dashed after them.

The only other kits in the nursery right now were Needlekit and Mousekit, a dark gray queen named Raincloud's litter, and Nightwish's litter, but the three of them had only been born about six sunpasses ago. Thinflower would soon have her kits as well, but for now Fernkit was forced to find entertainment for herself since Raincloud kept her younger sons from ever straying too far from her watchful eye. Their father Crowpelt padded up to her with Hawkpaw's rabbit in his mouth and his mate greeted him warmly before they stooped to share the meal.

A few warriors watched Fernkit in her hunt for the glowing insects, purring with amusement, and her father Redclaw crouched down to allow his playful daughter to attack his shoulders. There were many kits this season, and Littlepaw felt a surge of hope that the clan would be even stronger because of it. All cats looked up as their leader's voice rang out through the hollow. He stood atop an old tree stump, one that was crowded with hundreds of rings that displayed just how old the tree had been when it fell. Mapleclan gathered around him, murmuring cheerfully, their faces attentive as they wondered what their leader had to say. Petaltail curled her striped ginger tail around Fernkit to keep her from running up to the stump. Littlepaw saw Nightwish's black face poke out from the nursery, but she would not go far from her tiny kits yet.

"Cats of Mapleclan," Whitestar began, his steady voice reaching everyone in the clearing. "I am sure you have all heard the talk of the dog a hunting patrol fought off inside our territory today. Moonpaw may not be with us today if it had not been for the quick thinking and bravery of Hawkpaw. He has trained for many moons under the diligence of my deputy and friend, Mousewhisker, and she has come to me with the belief he is ready to become a warrior. Please step forward Hawkpaw."

Littlepaw turned his ears in interest, watching as Hawkpaw walked up to the stump. His whiskers quivered with nervousness and he stood as tall as he could make himself. His tabby and white pelt had been made glossy by careful grooming, and Littlepaw guessed that Mousewhisker had told him this was coming. Whitestar jumped down to stand in front of him.

"Hawkpaw, you have worked hard to understand the ways of our noble code and I reward you with your warrior name. Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect your clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Hawkpaw's voice did not waver. "I do."

"Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior name. Hawkpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Hawkfang. Starclan honors your courage and selflessness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Mapleclan."

The clan erupted into cheers, chanting Hawkfang's new name and purring congratulations. Once they had all spoken to him, he padded over to the camp entrance and sat down to begin his vigil for the night. Since he was not allowed to talk until dawn, he only nodded to those who passed him. Moonpaw padded up to the apprentice's den, where Littlepaw sat with Cloudpaw and Marigoldpaw.

"Are you alright, Moonpaw?" Littlepaw asked her, glancing at her paw.

"Oh yes, Littlepaw," she mewed. "Just a torn claw from falling." She brushed her tail across his side as she passed into the den and he felt his fur quiver. Cloudpaw glanced at him pointedly out of the corner of his eye but Marigoldpaw whacked him in the face with her plumy tail, shaking her golden head. Littlepaw smiled at the relationship the two shared and touched noses with each of them before standing with a stretch. He walked over to where his father sat, grooming his white pelt.

"Hello, Littlepaw," Whitestar greeted him. "I heard you had an exciting day today. I'm glad you are alright and I'm proud of your quick thinking in climbing the tree."

Littlepaw frowned slightly. "I should have been braver," he mewed. "I should have turned around and helped Moonpaw too, like Hawkfang did."

Whitestar looked at him curiously. "Did you know that Moonpaw was in trouble?" he asked.

"No…" Littlepaw mumbled. "I was ahead of her."

"Then why should you have expected yourself to be able to get to her as fast as Hawkfang did?"

"I don't know…" Littlepaw mewed after a moment.

His father licked his ear in understanding. "Your mother would be proud."

Littlepaw looked up into his blue eyes, knowing the leader missed his mother as much as he did. Tideflower had died at the paws of an angry coyote only two moons before Littlepaw was apprenticed. Thinflower had looked after him until then, but he still remembered her soft gray fur and gentle voice. She was the only cat Whitestar had ever loved. They touched noses and said goodnight to each other before Littlepaw returned to the apprentice's den, his paws dragging.

He curled up in the nest opposite Moonpaw, Cloudpaw already snoring to his right. Her brother, a golden tabby named Sunpaw, lay beside her and met Littlepaw's gaze before he curled tighter and went to sleep. The two of them had always been more than close, and Littlepaw suspected they held many secrets together. He did not spend much time thinking about it, as the exciting day's events weighed on him and he fell asleep.

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The night was still. The moon had passed its highest point in the sky and Hawkfang stifled a yawn. He still had a ways to go until the sun would rise. No breeze ruffled the leaves on the greenleaf touched forest and his pelt felt as if it might catch on fire with the heat swirling around him. His ears flicked at the knats that buzzed about his face.

He tried to distract himself by thinking about what had happened that day that led up to his warrior ceremony. His heart skipped as he recalled Moonpaw licking his cheek. He knew it was no secret that half the toms in the clan were drawn to her beauty and strongly independent personality. He had given up on having a chance with her after watching how Littlepaw shadowed after her and how warmly she treated him, but after today, a small spark of hope had flared in his chest.

Lost in his thoughts about the pretty silvery she-cat, he had failed to notice how everything suddenly seemed a little too quiet. His ears turned forward, straining to hear the cricket song that had vanished. A soft rushing sound coming from the darkness ahead caused the hairs on his tabby pelt to prickle. He parted his jaws and was met with a strange smell.

Looking up to the stars, he noticed that an orange glow had faded their light. In an instant, the smell registered in his mind and his yellow eyes flew wide. He jumped to his paws, pausing for only a moment, but knowing he must break his vow of silence for his vigil. The lives of his clanmates depended on it. He opened his jaws wide and yowled with all the breath he could find.

"Fire! Fire!"