Warriors isn't mine.

This is for Huntress of Sacred Dreams challenge, Beware the Voices. Enjoy!

The pale ginger tom crouched down, eyes trained on the bird in front of him. The robin was pecking at ground, hopping forward, head tilted. He lunged forward, and snapped its neck with one bite.

"Thank you StarClan." He murmured around his prey, and felt honestly grateful. He loved being able to say that after catching his prey, to have someone looking after him. His moons as a rogue made him grateful for anyone that cared about him.

He hesitated, holding the bird in his mouth, he was grateful for StarClan but sometimes his Clanmates…

He lowered his head slightly, the robin's wings brushing the ground. He knew they didn't all like him. He let out a long breath through his nose, what did he have to do to prove himself to them?

He felt as though he would never live down how they'd first met him. The kit that hid in the back while the others had fought and died. He was the coward, the outsider, and the Clan never let him forget it. When other rogues had killed his parents and the Clan had driven them off, they'd found him. It was because of the Warrior Code they'd taken him in.

He'd tried so hard to prove himself to them! He wanted to repay them for taking him, teaching him their ways, but how could he? They never treated him as an equal. And it wasn't like the leader stopped them. With a name like his… He glanced at his tan pelt and cursed it. Yellowpaw had become Yellowbelly, a name everyone thought fitting for the coward. With this name Foxstar had told the Clan that their insults were valid. Yellowbelly shook his head; well no prey was caught by standing still. He'd keep trying; maybe someday he'd have his moment. Or he could hope that as an elder he was renamed. He set the robin down, intending to bury it.

"Coward."

His ears twitched, paws resting on the dirt. "Who's there?" he looked around, "hiding in the bush name calling doesn't catch prey you know!" He resumed scraping the dirt, turning to grab his robin.

"I bet he hid from it before he caught it." Yellowbelly paused and sighed. He recognized his tormentor now, one of the young warriors, a ginger tom who was well liked. He dropped the robin and kicked the dirt back on it.

"He runs away from dead prey!"

He paused, his lips curling at the young voice. "You turned an apprentice against me?" He demanded, lashing his tail, a snarl building in his chest.

"He just wants to prove his loyalty to his Clan." The third voice, female, spoke, causing the warrior to snarl.

"Well so do I." he stated flatly.

"This isn't your Clan rogue!" that was the apprentice, Yellowbelly had the distinct feeling that he was just trying to impress his mentor, but right now it was three to one, with him surrounded. He flattened his ears, bracing himself and wondering if Crowfern would accept his story about falling while hunting. This wouldn't be the first or last time his Clanmates had bruised him.

He hissed as the cats slipped out of the woods, teeth bared. He fought to keep his claws sheathed, he never injured his Clanmates, that would make things worse for him, and he just intended to fight his way free.

But this time was different, somehow. He felt an uneasy prickling down his spine, as the ginger tom stepped forward.

"You claim to be a Clan cat. Well let's get a taste of that blood, see if it taste like a Clanner's."

Yellowbelly shrank back, and for the first time, unsheathed his claws, the dying sunlight falling through the branches into the clearing between the two toms.

/

The pale ginger tom's body landed on the ground with a dull thud. His namesake stomach was crimson now with his own blood.

The dark orange tom glanced at his companions, the she-cat stared at him, she still looked shocked but not like his apprentice.

The young tom shivered violently, staring at Yellowbelly's body.

"We don't speak of this, understand?" he snapped, glaring at the apprentice, "everyone will think he ran away, there's no reason for them to think otherwise."

"But what about StarClan?"

The tom bared his teeth, "they did nothing, they obviously don't care!" the apprentice flinched backwards, and the ginger tom let out a slow breath. He needed a better way to go about this.

"Maybe they support us." He glanced at the she-cat when she spoke, "after all we're cleaning the bloodlines. We need to be pure."

He nodded, glancing at the apprentice, "see? We did a good thing."

"But the warrior code…"

"He attacked us, we did defend ourselves." The warrior reassured him, "we did nothing wrong. Let the secret stay here with him."

The apprentice nodded, and a strong wind surged through the forest, all three cats fluffed out their fur.

"He moved!" The apprentice jumped back, staring in horror at the body, "he breathed!"

"It was just the wind." The ginger tom assured him, "let's go."

Once more the powerful wind buffeted them, the ginger tom lifted his head, "I think a storm's coming." The wind ripped through his pelt, causing chills over his body.

"Shouldn't we bury him at least?" the apprentice murmured.

"He was crow-food in life, let him be it in death." The ginger tom replied, walking forward, "be the only useful thing he ever did."

So it begins. Not so spooky yet, but it'll get there. By the way, I'll elaborate on the setting in the next chapter, but this is one of the canon Clans.