A/N: This story was written for the Warriors Challenge Forum. It is for a challenge titled Our Forum, in which I had to take one of our lovely forum members and write about a single day in her life. I also had to explain what is the most important to her. I hope that she enjoys this story, as do you!

"Come on, Breezewhisper!" Appleleaf meows, flicking her tail impatiantly. "If you don't hurry up, then we're going to be late for the Dawn Patrol!"

For a moment, the other she-cat remains curled up in her nest, nose buried in the soft moss of her nest. She doesn't want to get up and leave her dreams, dreams in which she is happy and safe and warm, in which cats weren't dieing around her and blood isn't staining her paws - the problem is that the anxiety in her friends voice has brought back all the horrors of the last moon. Breezewhisper can't just stay in her nest and hide and she knows it.

The remnants of the Clan would die without her.

Lifting her head, she gives her ginger-pelted friend a groggy nod and pushes herself to her paws. The movement tugs at the barely-healed gash on her left flank and she lets out a soft hiss at the pain.

"Breezewhisper?" Appleleaf questions. Her large, green eyes shine with worry as she pads across the den and over to her friends side. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Breezewhisper grunts, shifting her weight so that not as much is resting on her injured side. "I'm fine."

Disbelief clear on her face, Appleleaf walks a circle around her friend. The other she-cats dark pelt conceals wounds well and, though she knows something is there, she cannot figure out where.

"Really, Appleleaf, I'm fine." Breezewhispers says, lightly butting her head against the ginger warriors shoulder. "It's just a scratch."

Appleleaf takes two steps away from Breezewhisper and lashes her tail angrily. Her green eyes narrow - with betrayal? With dissapointment? Maybe in worry, as the once-upon-a-time queen prones to do. "You told Smokecloud that you didn't get hurt last night! You told him that you were fine for this patrol!"

For a moment, Breezewhisper bristles back. She fluffs her fur up and flattens her ears - and then forces herself to close her eyes and take a deep breath, because she knows that Appleleaf has a right to be upset.

"I told him that because it's true. I'm fine to go out on this patrol, Appleleaf." Breezewhisper forces her voice to stay calm and steady as she talks, banishing her annoyance to the back of her mind. "Trust me. I wouldn't put you all in danger just because I'm being stubborn."

The other she-cat lets out a huff, distrust still present in her gaze. She stills her tail though, and Breezewhisper takes that as a sign that the topic is being dropped.

"Like you were saying earlier though, we should hurry if we don't want to be late." The dark she-cat offers up, and when her fellow warrior turns and leaves the den, she follows.

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The sun is just starting to rise when Breezewhisper makes it to the briar tunnel leading out of the camp. Appleleaf is padding along right behind her, still gazing longingly at the fresh-kill pile.

The ginger she-cat had split a scrawny mouse with Nightbird; a fellow warrior, though she would be heading out on a hunting patrol.

Breezewhisper passed on the prey all together, as she often did lately. The ache of hunger may slow her down when it comes to patroling but later, when it counts, she knows that it will fuel her like nothing else.

Even though both she-cats still have hunger on their minds, they manage to greet the leader of their patrol with a respectful nod of their heads.

"Frostedstar." Breezewhisper meows, eyes taking in the gaunt appearence of their leader. "We're sorry to keep you waiting so long."

Like all of the cats in their Clan, Frostedstar is suffering from the lack of prey. Her once gleaming white fur is dulled and dirty, though the length covers up her weight loss. A bright red scar runs across one swollen, half-shut eye - a memoir of the battle that took place only two nights ago. Her other eye still shines with that ever-present warmth, the one that Breezewhisper has grown up knowing.

"We haven't been waiting long." Frostedstar says, and the warmth in her voice seems to make the gloom hovering over the two she-cats vanish.

Their leader has that effect on cats, though. Always so kind, so caring, even when no-cat deserves that warmth. Even when she is dealing with traitors and thieves and liars, that warmth is always there.

Breezewhisper has never been able to understand how Frostedstar can be that way, but she loves it all the same. Admires it, really.

"Where's the rest of the patrol at, Frostedstar?" Appleleaf questions, eyes glancing around the briar tunnel.

"Sandcloud has already left with Fernpaw." Frostedstar tells them. "We're going to meet the two at Riverclan's border and start our patrol there."

At the white she-cats words, Breezewhisper straightens up. "Sandcloud's bringing her apprentice with us?"

Frostedstar nods. "Yes. I don't think that we'll run into trouble today. Even if we do, she needs to get out of the camp for a little while. Being in there for so long after the fight isn't good for her."

Of course it isn't, Breezewhisper thinks, but she doesn't say it out loud. Instead she just nods and, after her leader pushes her way through the briars, leaves the camp.

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By some form of luck, the dreaded heat that has been plagueing the forest seems less today. Heavy clouds litter the sky, dark and foreboding. They promise the type of storm that the forest cats normally fear - but, today, Breezewhisper is hoping that the rain will come down hard. Maybe even hard enough to refill the streams that once ran through her territory, and fill the lake back up to its banks.

"Breezewhisper?" Fernpaw asks, padding over to the dark she-cat. "Are you okay?"

Tearing her eyes away from the sky, Breezewhisper tilts her head at the light brown apprentice. "I'm fine, Fernpaw. I was just watching the clouds."

"Oh." Fernpaw is silent for a moment, turning her own amber gaze onto the angry looking sky, before she speaks again. "It looks like it's going to rain."

"It doesn't just look like it's going to rain, Fernpaw." Breezewhisper meows, dropping her voice to the same volume as the shy apprentice's. "If you close your eyes, you can tell in other ways."

"I can?" Fernpaw asks, eyes widening just slightly. "How?"

Breezewhisper lets out a purr and flicks her tail at the young she-cat. "Close your eyes."

Fernpaw's eyes flutter shut, and she tilts her head slightly. "Now what?"

"Now,' Breezewhisper tells her. 'you listen. Tell me, what do you hear?"

The lighter she-cat is silent. Her ears flicker from side to side, swivling to try and catch whatever mystery noise the warrior is talking about. Then, dissapointment heavy in her voice, she lets her head droop. "I can't hear anything but the wind."

"Exactly!" Breezewhisper meows. "Do you hear how the wind is howling at us? Like a dog trapped within its cage?"

"I...I guess...It is pretty loud." Fernpaw admits. "Is that how you know it's going to rain?"

"Part of it." Breezewhisper answers with a nod. "But I can smell it too. Take a good sniff, Fernpaw. Tell me what you smell."

The apprenntice lets out a few noisy snuffles before her eyes snap open. "I smell water!"

"Right!" Breezewhisper purrs. "You can smell the rain before it actually starts falling. Usefull, isn't it? If you remember to use all of your senses when you're out like this, Fernpaw, then nothing will catch you off guard. Not even the weather."

Fernpaw beams and lets out a happy purr. "That's really neat, Breezewhisper! Thank you!"

Suddenly, there is a rustle in the bushes behind the two cats. Sandcloud pushes her way out of the brush, the pointed leaves snagging on her pelt. Frostedstar appears a moment after the tawny she-cat, a small grey bird clamped inbetween her jaws.

"What's 'really neat'?" Sandcloud asks, walking over to her apprentice.

"Breezewhisper showed me how to tell if it was going to rain!" Fernpaw says eagerly - and there is life in her eyes that hasn't been there for a while, not since her mother was slain in a battle against rouges.

"Oh really?" Sandcloud purrs. "I hope that you thanked her, Fernpaw."

"Don't worry, Sandcloud, she did." Breezewhisper lets out a small meow of laughter, then turns her attention back onto the holly bush that the other two warriors had just come out of. "Is Appleleaf still checking that border? Or did you find more prey that she's collecting?"

Silence reigns for a long moment, and Breezewhisper doesn't understand why because it is a simple question. When she turns around though, there is shock on Sandcloud's face and horror on Frostedstar's.

"What do you mean?" The white leader demands. "She isn't here yet?"

"No." Breezewhisper shakes her head in confusion. "Of course she isn't. Why would she be?"

"Breezewhisper,' Sandcloud says, sorrow lacing her tone. 'Appleleaf said that she was bringing a mouse she caught back up here. She left long before we did!"

For a moment, Breezewhisper doesn't understand what they mean. How could she have left before them but not be here? Appleleaf is a swift cat. There is no way that it would take her so long to get here. Not unless she is hurt - and that single thought spurrs her into action. Without waiting for an order from her stunned patrol, Breezewhisper turns and flings herself into the sharp-leaved bush.

If walking had caused the wound on her flank to hurt, than running was excrutiating. Each step felt as though the flesh was being torn open once again. As though the rouges claws were once more tearing into her skin and ripping it apart.

Breezewhisper runs anyway. All that she can think of is her friend; who has stayed beside her through everything. The death of Dapplepaw, Breezewhisper's first apprentice. The bout of green cough that almost took her own life. That day so many moons ago when all seemed to be crashing down around her and she didn't know which was up...Appleleaf was there through it all.

So Breezewhisper is determined not to let her friend be alone now.

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Frostedstar is alone when she finally finds Breezewhisper. The sun is high in the sky by this time, it's bright rays dulled by the storm clouds hanging above them. It is a perfect setting for the scene she finds, for the scene that freezes her heart in her chest.

"Starclan, no!" The white-pelted leader breathes out, light green gaze glued to the umoving body of her sole kit.

Scarlet stains the ground and the undergrowth of the forest is speckled with blood. Leaves have been shredded by stray clawswipes and, in spots, clumps of soil have been ripped out of the ground. Laying at the foot of one tree is Appleleaf; her ginger fur turned dark and her once bright green eyes frozen in a look of terror and pain. Crouched beside the fallen she-cat is Breezewhisper, whose head is bowed and eyes are closed as she prays to StarClan that her friend did not suffer before she was taken. She doesn't look up when Frostedstar walks over to join her but she can imagine the despair in the older cats eyes all the same.

"I'm so sorry, Frostedstar." Breezewhisper says softly. "She was gone before I got here. So were the rouges. There was nothing that I could do..."

It's so obvious that it was a rouge who killed her - or more acurate, it was a group of them. Breezewhisper can still smell the acrid odor that lingers on her fur, the one that brings death to all who crosses their path.

"My kit..." Frostedstar breaths, and the pain in her voice is absolutely heart-breaking. "They killed my kit! My Appleleaf!"

"I'm so sorry." Breezewhisper repeats, because she doesn't know what else to say. Is there anything else to say? When a cat has lost all her kin to the same brutal cause, are there any words that could bring her comfort? If there are, the dark she-cat cannot think of them. She merely apologizes once more and then stays by Frostedstar's side as she mourns.

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They sit at Appleleaf's side until the sun has started to set and a patrol comes to retrieve them. For the treck through the forest, Breezewhisper stays close to her leader. Their pelts brush as they walk, Breezewhisper's tail draped over Frostedstar's back.

All are quiet.

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Breezewhisper retreats to her den the moment she arrives back at camp. She considers the time that she spent in the forest her vigil and is content to let the rest of her clan have their time with Appleleaf. Aside from that, she's tired both emotionally and physically. She wants nothing more than to curl up in her soft nest and pretend that they are not being hunted by rouges. That, when the sun rises the next day, it will be her ginger friend who wakes her in time for the patrol.

So that's exactly what she does. She slinks into her den and settles into her nest, muzzle resting on her paws and tail curled over her nose. Where she lays, she has a perfect view of the clearing in the middle of the camp - and, in turn, of Appleleaf's body and the cats who are going up to say their final goodbyes to her.

As she lays there, she cannot help but wonder why she stays with her clan.

At the moment, there is little prey. What they do have goes to the elders and the queens and the injured. Danger lurks around every corner because the rouges seem to just appear out of the shadows when they are least expected. None of her kin still live and her best friend has gone to hunt with StarClan. So what is left for her here? This one question echoes through Breezewhisper's mind, keeping her from falling asleep.

It isn't until she spies Fernpaw and Petalpaw creep over to speak to Appleleaf that she knows why.

Breezewhisper stays because there are still cats that need her help and who still need guidance to keep their pawsteps on the right path. And if she left, then there would be one less warrior able to help them.