Hunger

The forest was as dark as ebony-colored stone. The dried and dead leaves shivered as the wind wordlessly cried out to the moon, which coldly stared down and didn't respond. It was leaf-bare, and the clans were starving.

A pair of eyes blinked once in the frost-bitten camp, the eyes' owner half growling at the coldness and hunger that plagued the land of the warrior cats. He had made up his mind. He knew what he was going to do.

He did it before.

A single flick of the cat's dark gray colored tail, and he had slithered out of his freezing nest in the warriors' den. He stalked out of the leafless bushes, his paws making no noise on the frosty dirt, packed hard on the forest floor. Dark goldenrod eyes blazed over the camp, watching for any other warriors that might be on watch.

There was none.

His eyes gleamed in triumph. This was his chance for survival. He needed food for himself. Now.

He was a young warrior, recently promoted. He relished the freedom of being a warrior. The apprentices would hunt, and he would only have to step over to the fresh-kill pile and grab a robin or a squirrel, and his hunger would be sedated.

But soon, Leaf-fall died against his adversary Leaf-bare, and then Leaf-bare ruled the warrior cats until New-leaf arrived, but that time was far from soon. The apprentices soon started to stop bringing prey. The prey was gone. His hunger drove him to break his loyalty to the clan, and to follow his stomach. Not the warrior code.

The sooty-tinted tom slinked past the other dens, on his way out of the camp. He passed his fellow warriors, their ribs showing way too clearly as they slept, their bones sticking out of their fur like a lonely tree in the middle of a field. He passed by the elders, exhausted and sleeping, who were slowly dying, never imagining the crime that was going to happen soon. He passed by the nursery, the queens slumbering fitfully, as the kits dreamt of the milk that would never come. He passed by the apprentices den, as the young cats who had been so eager to help, who now were reduced to ghosts of their former selves. He passed by the Medicine cat and the leader's den, who gave up their own food to give to the clan.

He didn't think of them at all. He thought of only him, him, and him.

The cat padded into the forest, out of the camp's boundaries, swallowed up in his own insatiability and the greed that plagued many. But he was the only one who decided to obey his gluttony. Only he.

The frozen forest scents hit the top of his mouth, making his stomach rumble and whine. The cat wanted food, but he knew that it would take a little while to find prey. But, a small rustle made him turn his head, and he smiled a blood-thirsty smile. His animal instincts took over, as he tasted the faint scent of a living treasure.

A mouse.

His eyes gleamed and shone in the darkness in elation in his small success for finding food. No longer would he be hungry. He silently growled in happiness. Using perfect skill, he crept up to the mouse, and sprang up, hissing. With a small squeak, the mouse died in the fangs of a hungry cat.

A small voice muttered in his head. You are a false warrior. It ridiculed. The cat winced as his conscience mocked his disloyal plan to eat the mouse himself instead of giving it to the clan. You caught a mouse. Didn't you listen to your mentor? 'The clan must be feed first'. The voice in his head jeered in a sing-song voice.

"But I'm hungry." The tom half whined, half growled. He waited for the voice to return, but it didn't. The tom knew that he should feel relief since the voice wasn't talking anymore, but instead he felt even more uneasy about hunting for fresh-kill.

The cat warily crawled out and around the forest, after scraping iced-up dirt over the pathetic looking mouse, searching for another piece of fresh-kill. The gray tom grinned; a devil's grin, his fangs gleaming as his eyes reflected the moon. He was in luck. It was the scent of rabbit.

He didn't notice that the odor was stale. And it had the sharp smell of blood.

The cat followed his nose, stepping lightly, following the odor. He soon came to the spot where it was the strongest.

A wave of badger smell hit the top of his mouth, making him wrinkle his nose in disgust. He decided to ignore it. The rabbit was more important.

The tom tried to pinpoint where the rabbit was. He could smell it, but where was it? A mound of strange brown and black dirt was in the middle of the forest. Maybe if he stood on it, he thought, he could see the rabbit.

He took one pawstep onto the mound, and all of a nightmare broke loose.

The mound surged upward and roared. The tom reflexively spun out of the way, something sharp clipping the end of his smoggy tail. He hissed in anger and hurt. Then when he looked up, he forgot all about the pain.

A huge badger reared above him, dirty, matted fur spiked up and blood-shot eyes glaring out at him. With a bellow, the beast swiped down his massive paw and knocked the tom off of his feet.

The tom tried to catch himself on the frozen ground; however he instead stumbled over a rock and crashed into a tree. The dazed tom looked around; trying to find away to run away, but the voice rang in his head. So!! It thundered. Now you know what happens to disloyal warriors who care more about themselves than the rest of their clan.

The cat trembled as he leapt at the monster. The badger roared and just batted him away. The badger growled menacingly, and started to pace up to the helpless cat.

The tom backed up against a frozen hickory. He closed his eyes, and prayed to StarClan. If I could only have one more chance, He pleaded; I would redo all the things I did wrong...

The stars glittered as a tree right next to him exploded.

The tom gasped and yowled, twisting away from the flying remains of the oak tree. Splinters and shards of wood flew in the air, hitting his thick, dark gray fur. Why did the tree explode? Then he remembered something his mentor taught him once. Sometimes the air is so cold that the sap inside of the tree freezes, and then the tree exploded. Thank Starclan. The cold air actually saved him this time.

The badger howled and swiped at the shards, but he was driven back by the piercing slices of wood. The tom took advantage of the chaos and started running away from the wreckage, but then something stopped him. He had done this to himself. It was his fault. If, IF, he had listened to the warrior code, this wouldn't have happened to him. His terror had overtaken him, and soon he had forgotten about what being a warrior was supposed to be like. The cat- no, the warrior- turned around and went right back towards the badger with a snarl on his face. He wasn't letting himself do anything like that ever again. He had sworn to StarClan. The tom wasn't about to break his oath.

The badger stared at him, confused, wondering why this ball of dirty and bloody fur was coming back for a fight. It shook its head, and roared. Unlike before, the smoggy-furred tom didn't even flinch. With a blood-curling war-cry, he leaped-

-And landed on the badger's head. His warrior mind was racing, as he tried to scrabble on the huge black-stripped head. He was slipping, but he tried to injure the threat as much as he could. The monstrous badger snarled when the tom's claws sliced his ears, and clawed the top of its head, but with a curving sweep of its head, it threw the cat off of it. The cat scrabbled against the tree that he had been thrown on, he soon forgot about the badger. As he jumped off, the sound of an exploding tree echoed through the forest. He froze, and the badger did too.

Without warning, the tree the cat had been sitting on burst, too. He felt a sharp pain in his leg, and his side. With a pained sigh, he ran away from the wreckage...

THUNK.

He turned around, as saw, through the shards of wood and debris, the badger with blood leaking out of its head, an enormous branch right next to it. Limping, the warrior hesitantly padded over toward the badger's head, and pawed it. It didn't move. A clouded, black blood-shot eye stared up back at him.

"Whew..." the warrior mewed, and looked up at the night sky. The stars shimmered down back at him. He grinned in a wounded sort of way. "Thanks for the lesson." The cat said softly. With a grunt, he started to hobble over back to his camp. As he did, he noticed a half-eaten-by-a-badger carcass of what was a rabbit. "So that's where the scent was." He muttered to himself. Shuffling back home, he came across his mouse. The tom didn't feel like eating it. "Now what do I do with it?" he complained, but then a bright idea burst through his head. It was what he should've done in the beginning.

The warrior shambled into camp. He looked around, half amazed that everyone was still sleeping after what happened to him. Dropping his mouse, he padded into a small bramble-covered den. The nursery.

A single, dark brown she-cat was inside, with her shadows of kits huddled against her.

"Hey, Sis, wake up." The smoky tom murmured, pawing the queen.

She opened her eyes sleepily. Only now did the warrior notice how thin she was, increasing his guilty feeling. His sister sniffed indignantly, and then her eyes opened wide. "W-what happened to you?! You smell like blood, and you look like you've been trying to kill monsters, for StarClan's sake!" She asked, her voice sounding worried.

"That's a little too close to the truth than what I would like to talk about." He replied, and reached behind him with his head, and plopped the mouse infront of his sister. "I brought you something, though."

She gasped, but this time with happiness. "A mouse..." she mewed dreamily. "I never knew that I would see one again."

"Eat it." He ordered her. "I'll try to catch more tomorrow for you." The warrior swiftly licked her between the ears, and exited. He was drop-dead tired, but his spirit soared. As he went into the warriors' den and flopped down on his bedding, he thought, I wonder how I'm gonna explain the splinters tomorrow...

The stars were watching over him. Forever.

The end.