I've [got] to .focus.

[snowywhisker]

Snowywhisker slowly stalked a vole along the warm bubbling stream, quiet as a mouse. Her paws slipped out under her lithe body like flowing water, every step more graceful than the next. She had tried to get some of her fur smoothed down, but it's snowy white color was just as bright as ever. Sometimes she wondered how she could've been born a cat of the moor. Suddenly the vole stopped and looked at her. She looked down; a cracked branch lay under her paw. "Mouse dung!" she hissed as the vole jumped into the stream. She raked her claws along the bank, furious. She had let her mind slip away again. What was wrong with her?

She felt like running, running faster than she'd ever run before. But the Clan had to come first. She hadn't hunt all day, and she'd told Smokestripe that she'd hunt today, since she had accidentally slept in this morning. Her warrior ceremony was at least a few moons ago, but it was still fresh in her mind.

It was a moonlight night, and her fur glowed as she passed under Silverpelt towards her leader. As Icestar recited the ceremony, she had stopped her short of the naming. That afternoon her father had died at the paws of BoneClan, but she wanted her warrior ceremony to happen before her father's body, he had wanted to see her become a warrior badly. She had told Icestar that she wanted to have her name in remembrance to her father, Whiskerscar. Her leader had accepted her decision. Now she was Snowywhisker, and she'd held a different vigil. That night she had held her nose to her father's fur, then the next night she did what all new warriors do. She had been a special case.

She stared up at sky. It was almost sunhigh. She'd set out about midday, and still she had caught nothing. And the Hot Springs were supposed to be laden with prey.

[snowywhisker]

She stalked around a bit more, making her way quietly around the stream. She dipped her paws daintily in the warm water a couple of times, trying to ease the pain she felt in her grazed pawpads. Suddenly a movement came from the bushes ahead of her. She dropped into a hushed hunter's crouch, and slid forward. A fuzzy sleek body was ahead of her. She dropped her jaw slightly. It was a rabbit! And it was a bit on the plump side too. This was amazing, it must've not started hibernating yet. She licked her lips and shifted her position as lightpawed as possible. She jumped high in the air. "You're all mine!" she howled as she landed on it's back. A swift bite to the neck and it was all over. The rabbit lay limp under her. She got up and pulled it over to a small hole, scraping earth over it for later. She would return to it later. She stalked off to another place around the stream, looking for more prey.

[snowywhisker]

A sudden thought came to her mind, one that she did not like to remember. She was remembering the night she became a warrior, and the battle before it. It was a dark and bloody battle... she remembered her father's death as clearly as it was when it happened...

It was a beautiful sight, the red glow of the setting sun making her father and her own snowy pelts glisten pink. She was enjoying her last border patrol as an apprentice, for that night she would become a warrior. She quickly set her pace, keeping paw for paw with her father. He was glowing with pride, his apprentice and daughter was going to become a warrior, finally after all those moons. She was also beaming. Excitement pulsed in the air around them as they started to head back towards camp, when a BoneClan warrior crossed onto their territory, chasing a stray rabbit. It made them furious, and the whole thing turned into a scuffle. Luckily for BoneClan, their border patrol wasn't far. Another eager apprentice was going to become a warrior that night also. She had fought with him. Then he attacked her father. You would think that an apprentice against an experienced warrior would be hands down Whiskerscar right? But no. He hit her father so hard, his neck broke. She had yowled in horror and anger at the death of her beloved father and evil tabby tom. She had narrowed her eyes at him as he slipped away. She would never forget the ice colored eyes and the dark reddish brown pelt. It was unmistakeable, and it was the pelt she seeked to rip off.

As she thought of the memory, she tore at the brittle grass below her. How she wished it was his fur.

[snowywhisker]

But yet, she was also intranced by him. He had grace, style. He obviously was scared to death by what would happen to him if anyone found out. She wished he was found out. The night of the Gathering, the night after her warrior ceremony, her leader had questioned BoneClan's who killed my father so mercilessly for a piece of prey. She had picked out the dark pelt in the crowd, but he had said nothing. She had wanted to say she knew who killed him, but it was her word against BoneClan's. And she was his daughter and apprentice, she would say anything to get someone in trouble if it involved her father and mentor. Suddenly her heart skipped a beat as she thought of his eyes and the well strengthened muscles under his dark tabby pelt. She wanted to intwine her tail with his... but she also had such an urge to kill him. To murder him, to give him his last battle. She sheathed her claws and licked her paw, drawing it over her face. She wanted to wash all the hate and love away. It was wrong, to love someone so purely when that someone killed her father- and, not to mention, from another Clan at that. BoneClan at that! They always seemed to have a little bit against GustClan, but don't all the clans? All four clans are jealous of eachother for no right reasons.

[snowywhisker]

She sighed. Her life was becoming more complicated with each pawstep. To forget about the dark tabby tom was to forget her father, almost. It wouldn't feel right. Her mind started to form his image in her head. The sleek, large shoulder blades, those amazing blue gray eyes, those rippling muscles under the smooth dark reddish-brown pelt... she felt it all slip from her mind for a moment, and she cried out. She was forgetting. She was losing all she had held onto... was her love blinding her hate? Maybe. All she wanted to do was bear his kits, and sink her fangs into his neck. It was too much for her to think about. She let her eyes slide down to stare at the ground, then slowly made her way back to camp. No pain would stop her. She would find that cat. She would.