Creative Writing: Snap

Decent Essays

Snap. The sound of a twig giving way under a careless paw.My whole body freezes instinctively; my eyes sweep the dense undergrowth for signs of life. Only another cat would be heavy enough to break a twig in two like that. Apart from the faint rustling of leaves as a breeze sweeps though, there is no movement among the foliage. I swiftly and quietly carry on, prowling through the thick woods, pine needles muffling my pawsteps so that I am completely silent. I am nothing put a shadow among the trees. The eerie sensation of being watched tells me that I am not alone. Somewhere an invisible presence lies concealed, waiting, watching. I feel eyes on me, observing my every move, burning intently into my pelt. I pause, still …show more content…

This cat is probably out to steal prey from my territory. It looks like I am going to have to deal with the intruder by myself, apprentice though I am. The thought fills me with nervous excitement. I begin padding quickly after it, gaining speed until I am sprinting toward it. The cat turns, eyes wide, reflecting the moon. It turns tail at the sight of me and bolts, its fear scent trailing behind it. I give chase, yowling a battle cry. The cat is a she-cat and has significantly shorter legs than I do. I quickly overtake her. I leap, landing on her back, and dig my claws in. Her pelt is hard to grip, her pale fur plastered with the mud she used to hide her rival-Clan scent with. She is not as strong as I am, I realize, as she crumples under my weight; still, she possesses significant strength and muscle beneath her pelt. The cat screeches in alarm, twists onto her back and tries to claw at my belly with her hind claws. Her eyes blaze with fury and terror, and suddenly I recognize this little cat. “Viperpaw!” I yowl in astonishment. I instantly unhook my claws from her pelt and let her up. She glares at me with all the hostility of an enemy, panting …show more content…

We roll around in the leaves for a heartbeat, halfheartedly clawing each other, until I easily pin her. “Well,” I huff, “we’ve probably scared all the prey away by now. Let’s just go back to camp.” I yawn, worn out from my false-alarm attack. Viperpaw nods and we both get up and begin heading back. Viperpaw is my closest friend in the Clan besides my brother, Owlpaw. We’re practically brother and sister. We’re the same age, seven moons, and my mother raised Viperpaw after her own mother died of greencough. She is very quiet and reserved by nature, but less so around Owlpaw and I, because we’re so close. And, as she proved tonight, not the best at facing an enemy and fighting, which brings me to ask her, “Why didn’t you turn and fight? We’re not kits anymore. We may only have a little bit of training, but that’s still no reason to not want to defend your Clan, or yourself.” I give her a sideways glance as I walk along next to her. I hate feeling like I’m pressuring her; I just honestly want to know. She shoots me a look. “You sound like my mentor,” she

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