Fawnpaw: A Fictional Narrative

"Fawnpaw, wake up!"

Fawnpaw jerked and blinked her eyes open. "What?"

A scarred muzzle entered her line of sight right before she found herself gazing into Shiverpaw's green eyes.

"Birchclaw said to wake you up," she meowed. "He wants to take you on a tour of the territory."

Fawnpaw scrambled to her paws and stretched, digging her claws into the dirt of the den. "How early is it?"

"A bit after dawn," Shiverpaw meowed. "I have to go, I'm supposed to be with the dawn patrol."

Fawnpaw's jaws opened in a yawn. "See you later, Shiverpaw."

Stepping out of the den, Fawnpaw took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the barely there light that was beginning to spread through the trees and into camp. Spotting Birchclaw sitting near the camp entrance, …show more content…

The dark tabby tom smiled, his blue eyes amused. "Good morning, Fawnpaw. Ready for your tour of the territory?"

Fawnpaw's tail tip twitched in excitement. "Is the territory very large?"

Birchclaw stood and padded through the tunnel entrance. "Large enough. We always find enough prey to get by, even during leafbare."

Fawnpaw was right behind by no more than a tail length. "It must get very cold out here. I've haven't lived through a leafbare yet."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't have," Birchclaw meowed. "You're, what, maybe the same age as Smokepaw and his siblings? You would have been born towards the tail end of leafbare, much like they were. It will get very cold, very fast. And cats will no doubt start catching colds before too long."

"Do many cats die during leafbare?" Fawnpaw tried to sound casual about it, but she knew the worry laced her voice and that her mentor caught onto it.

"Sometimes, yes," Birchclaw reluctantly admitted. "Many cats succumb to the cold, or to the lack of food. Others to illness, like greencough which can sometimes run rampant through the Clans."

"What about other cats? Do you see a lot of rogues or …show more content…

"This is where a majority of our battle training will take place. Now, keep up, we're going to pick up the pace that way I can show you all the borders. We'll start with RiverClan."

When he took off, she scrambled after her, nearly slipping in the sand as she plunged into the trees after him. Slowly, the race through the forest brought them to a river, and situated in the river were crossing stones. And on the ThunderClan side of the border were large, warm rocks that looked perfect for sunning.

"This is the Sunningrocks," Birchclaw announced. "This marks our border with RiverClan, and the two Clans are almost always at odds at who the rocks belong to. Currently, they are under ThunderClan control."

Fawnpaw parted her jaws and breathed in deeply. The smell of the fresh, crisp water was overwhelmed by the tangy fish smell that eminated from across the river. Fawnpaw shook her head, face scrunching up in disgust.

"They smell bad," she complained.

Birchclaw purred. "Apprentices. I believe every one says that exact same thing on their border visits. Just wait until you get a whiff of ShadowClan - talk about