Hunger Games Warriors Fanfic - Chapter Thirteen out - Secrets

The Clans met the Dark Forest in war. It was a struggle for the Clans, betrayed by their own Clanmates. After one whole moon of agony, hurt and the hunger for survival, the Dark Forest won, outnumbering the Clans. To remind them of their rebellion, the Hunger Games began.

The Clans, were powerless against the Dark Forest. The Tribe of the Falling Darkness was discovered and forced to share the same fate as the Clans.

One she-cat and one tom from each Clan and the tribe, ranging from apprentices to deputies, are chosen each year for the Hunger Games, organised by the Dark Forest. There are eight Clans in total - ThunderClan, RiverClan, WindClan, ShadowClan, SkyClan, IceClan, FireClan, AwesomeClan and one tribe - The Tribe of the Falling Darkness. These 18 tributes will enter an arena that changes as the Dark Forest wishes.

There is only one victor. The rules of the games is killed or be killed.

OWLHOOK – ThunderClan tom with tawny brown fur, a white scruff and has a vicious scar across his pelt from a kithood accident. He has large mustard yellow eyes with pale ginger patches around his eyes and white tufted ears. He resembles a lot like an owl, thus earning his warrior name. Owlhook is an extremely clever tom and is always very cautious.

LIGHTNINGSTORM -- Dark gray ThunderClan she-cat, almost black, with a lightning-shaped patch of blonde fur on her right shoulder and sky blue eyes. Lightningstorm’s carelessness often stirs up trouble for her at times. She is easily distracted but is a very skilled hunter.

STREAMFUR – Blue-gray RiverClan tom with white belly fur and a gray-tipped tail. Loyalty is above everything to Streamfur. She always puts her Clan first.

BRIGHTPAW – Slender, long-legged silver tabby RiverClan she-cat with brilliant green eyes and shadowy black stripes across her back. She is inquisitive and compassionate apprentice.

EMBERSTRIKE - Gray-and-white WindClan she-cat with dark-furred legs. Emberstrike has a determined personality and does not easily give up.

HONEYPAW – Golden-wheat pelt WindClan tom with brown tail, ears, paws, mask and stunningly intense almond-shaped aqua eyes. Enjoys tree-climbing and swimming, despite being a WindClan apprentice. He is grumpy at times but can be very friendly too.

DARKHEART – Dark brown tabby tom with a stripes all over and spotted hind legs. He is extremely annoying and enjoys killing. He often whines, which irritates others.

SHADOWSEER –ShadowClan she-cat with black-silver fur, a torn left ear and mustard yellow eyes.

ICETAIL – White and black SkyClan she cat with a long white fluffy tail, white paws, muzzle, and belly. She also has blue eyes and random spots of black along her back. She has a cheerful disposition and enjoys company.

STORMCLAW – Big, powerful smoky grey SkyClan tom with deep green eyes. He doesn’t speak much and prefers to be alone. Because of Stormclaw’s large size, he is slower than other cats but is much stronger than most.

COLDFANG – Titanium coloured tom with strange green-blue eyes with a smoky ring around it.

SNOWLILY – Pure white IceClan she-cat with deep blue eyes. She has very long claws that are three inches long.

SCORCHSCAR – Pale gray battle-scarred tabby FireClan tom. He is merciless and bloodthirsty.

FLAMEFLICKER – Small flame-coloured FireClan she-cat with blackened fur along her paws. Flameflicker is often underestimated by others. She is unusually nimble and agile.

CROOKEDJAW – Dark brown AwesomeClan tabby tom with black stripes, white underbelly and ice blue eyes. He is tough and brawny. Crookedjaw is arrogant and is not very popular among his Clan.

HAZELDUST– Long-haired tortoiseshell AwesomeClan she-cat with emerald-green eyes with a white chest, muzzle, and paws, and a silky tail. She enjoys teasing others and has a bright personality.

GALE OF THE NORTHERN WIND – Pure white tom with broad shoulders and very thick fur.

GRACE OF THE NIGHTINGALE’S SONG – Small delicate gray tabby she-cat with unusual purple eyes. Grace is energetic and acts on her instincts.

“Move faster fire-breath!”

There was a rough shove from behind and the flame-coloured she-cat stumbled forward. She quickly tucked her tail and paws, rolling forward in one fluid motion to her paws. She was up and running, barely registering her fall.

A growl rumbled in her throat as she tore across the clearing with a bundle of sticks gripped tightly in her jaws. She flattened her ears in determination as she reached the large pile of wood, consisting of broken sticks, fallen branches and dead leaves, and added her own onto it. She had been doing this for the entire afternoon and her muscles were sore from running.

A dark forest tom, who was supervising her training nearby, nodded curtly. “You’ve done enough for today, Flameflicker. Get some rest.”

Flameflicker dipped her head respectfully, panting slightly. She could have sworn that there was a glimpse of satisfaction in his eyes but was almost immediately replaced by a cold hard glint. She shook the dust off her coat and padded over towards the river for a drink. She could see silhouettes of cats beyond the river. She had a strong yearning to swim across the border and explore the marshy wetlands where RiverClan cats reside in.

The only thing stopping her was the punishment. Everyone feared the punishment. She feared the punishment. There were only a small number of daring cats who broke the laws and they never came back. They just simply vanished with not a single trace left. Gone. Just like that.

What do RiverClan cats do? Do they collect wood like us? What do they look like? There were so many questions bursting in her mind and she shook her head to clear them. Cats from different Clans and Tribe were not allowed to be in contact with each other in any way. Only the Dark Forest cats, who ruled over them, were allowed to patrol freely.

All the same, it’s best to avoid them, Flameflicker thought, padding through the familiar forest that she had grown up with for 14 moons. The cool wind ruffled her fur as she raced past the towering oak trees, straight into FireClan camp.

There was a flurry of ginger and she heard her name being called. Before she knew it, something landed on her shoulders, pinning her down onto the ground.

“Flameflicker, look at meeeee!”

“Auburnpaw, you’re supposed to be going for your first apprentice training session with your mentor!” Flameflicker batted her sister away lightly.

“I wanted to see you first! Look, I’m an apprentice now!”

Flameflicker loved her sister more than anything in the world and couldn’t bring herself to snap at her. “Off you go then, Auburnpaw! Firefur is waiting for you!” She mewed, flicking her tail towards the russet tom, who was watching them from a distance with his whiskers twitching in amusement. Nuzzling her for one last time, the ginger she-cat bolted after her mentor.

Flameflicker dropped into a crouch and sprang onto a low branch of a birch tree nimbly, landing neatly on all four paws. The sun dipped below the horizon as the moon rose, nestling among the starry sky. Its full moon! Her fur along her spine bristled in horror.

A full moon could only mean one thing.

It’s the beginning of the Hunger Games.
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“I wonder who will get chosen.”

“Great StarClan! Stop pacing about!”

“Sorry… this is really getting on my nerves.”

“There’s only a slight chance that you’ll get chosen!”

Flameflicker was listening to the hushed murmurings as the Dark Forest cats silently swarmed into the camp, staring at them with unblinking eyes. A cream-coloured Dark Forest she-cat was sitting on the tall boulder, her tail curled over her paws. Ivytail, Flameflicker shuddered at her name. She was in charge of FireClan.

“Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favour!” She mewed, her voice soft and unnerving. There were two pieces of bark in front of her, with the chosen tributes’ names clawed onto. Flameflicker shifted uncomfortably. Don’t let it be me. Not me, please, she willed with all her might to StarClan.

“The she-cat tribute will be…” There was a pause. “Auburnpaw.”

Panic flooded through Flameflicker’s mind. Her sister was barely an apprentice! It was obvious that such a young cat wouldn’t survive! She couldn’t watch her sister get torn into shreds by the other tributes.

“No!” she yowled, pushing her way through the front. “I volunteer! I’ll take her place!”

Almost immediately, there was a huge commotion among her Clanmates and Auburnpaw was staring at her with eyes as wide as moons. Flameflicker took a deep breath.

“I volunteer,” She repeated, looking at Ivytail directly in the eyes. “I volunteer as a tribute.”

“And you are?”

“Flameflicker.”

Ivytail merely acknowledged it with a flick of her tail before announcing, “Very well. The male-cat tribute will be Scorchscar.”

A pale gray battle-scarred tom stepped forward, his claws already unsheathed. Oh no! Of all cats, why must it be Scorchscar? Flameflicker shuddered. Scorchscar was the most bloodthirsty warrior in FireClan. His fellow cronies yowled approvingly.

The Dark Forest cats were waiting by the camp entrance, ready to leave. Flameflicker faltered in her pawsteps. She couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to her sister. Auburnpaw padded up to Flameflicker, her eyes brimming with emotions. There was no need for words to express.

“Don’t go,” Auburnpaw managed to croak.

Flameflicker nuzzled Auburnpaw affectionately, licking her ears. “I’m sorry Auburnpaw. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” She mewed, her voice barely a whisper.

A Dark Forest tabby twitched his ear, beckoning her over. Flameflicker nodded and breathed in her sister’s scent, painfully reminding her of home.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Flameflicker half-heartedly padded over to join Scorchscar and the Dark Forest cats. She glanced back for one last time. Auburnpaw was sitting there, her eyes never leaving her. Flameflicker’s heart etched with sorrow at the sight of her sister. So beautiful. So many memories. On a silent signal, they leaped into the undergrowth.

As they made their way through the Dark Forest territory, Brightpaw felt uneasy passing through the sinister-looking woods and was tensed and alert for the slightest threat. She kept walking on, lost in thought about what had happened before.

Her mother, on the verge of kitting, was wailing as they took her away. She felt a sharp pang of loneliness without her mother’s warmth and company. She was on her own now.

“We’re here,” Streamfur nudged her, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. Brightpaw blinked as she scanned around her surroundings. The rest of the tributes were already there, their attention suddenly focused on the two new tributes. She looked down at her paws, suddenly finding them of great interest, not looking at anyone in the eye.

“Each tribute will have a mentor to prepare you for the 76th Hunger Games,” A long-haired dark brown tom, supposedly the leader of the Dark Forest, mewed, breaking the silence. “You are given three days before the actual Hunger Games begin.”

From the corner of her eye, Brightpaw saw a blue-gray tom approaching her. A wave of familiarity and relieve flooded through her when she recognised who he was. The winner of the 75th Hunger Games, Shimmertail!

“You seem to already know who I am,” The warrior mewed in a musical voice, his azure blue eyes warm and friendly. “I’m assigned to be your mentor.”

Brightpaw dipped her head shyly. After an entire afternoon of rigorous training, she finally knew how Shimmertail managed to survive, ranging from hiding in the trees for long periods of time without moving to escaping from enemies when discovered.

“Do you have any advice for me?” Brightpaw piped up, stretching the soreness out of her muscles.
For the first time in her life, she saw Shimmertail falter, his eyes dull with sorrow. Her pelt burned uncomfortably as she waited for his reply. After a few heartbeats, Shimmerfur mewed an almost unintelligible reply, “Stay alive.”

“Could you… could you tell me how you won?” Brightpaw asked.

Shimmertail’s gaze darkened. “Throughout the whole Hunger Games, I stayed in the shadows, striking only when I saw a chance.” His voice dropped by an octave. “So many… so many lives I’ve taken…”

Shimmertail shuddered, as if he was remembering what had happened. “There was only one she-cat left. I was about to sink my teeth into her when I stopped.” He paused, his eyes glazed. His voice was thick with grief. “I couldn’t.”

“I could see it in her eyes before she did it. She… she drowned herself.” His voice wavered. “Gone. She’s gone forever.”

Brightpaw felt a wave of sympathy for her mentor. “Who was she?”

“You didn’t know?” Shimmertail’s eyes widened.

Brightpaw shook her head.

“She was my sister.”

Shadowseer reared onto her hind legs, raking her claws smoothly down the cedar oak. She let out a purr of satisfaction at her sharpened claws. Darkheart was nearby, grimly walking about restlessly. “I’m really bored!” He complained indignantly, settling down on the cold hard ground.

“That’s not my fault! Get something to do!” Shadowseer snapped back, fluffing her fur in annoyance and shredding the tree’s bark.

“Why can’t ShadowClan go first?” he whined, pawing her tail. “I can’t wait any longer!”

“Just because – “Shadowseer broke off as a massive dark brown tabby tom headed over towards them. It was Tigerstar, the leader of the Dark Forest. “It’s your turn now,” He told her, his amber eyes gleaming. “Blackfoot is waiting for you. Do your best. ShadowClan always gets the highest score.”

Shadowseer nodded coolly back and slid into the entrance of the cave. There were Dark Forest cats everywhere, their eyes flashing as she walked past into the centre.

A white tom with black paws was waiting for her. He acknowledged her presence with the twitch of his ear.

His voice rang clearly,” Impress me.”

Shadowseer dropped into a crouch, springing into the air and digging her claws into the wall before releasing her grip, and twisting her body with her claws outstretched and landing on the ground neatly on her paws.

“Very agile,” He commented dryly. “Next time, tuck in your legs more and keep your tail low.”

Shadowseer dipped her head, pleased with herself. I wonder what my score would be, she thought as she joined the rest of the tributes who were waiting by the large oak tree.

“The highest score is eleven, from Coldfang of IceClan!”

“Next is Gale of the Northern Wind from the Tribe of the Falling Darkness with a score of nine!”

As the scores went on and on, Shadowseer found herself glancing at the titanium-coloured tom with deep hatred and admiration. He seemed to realise she was glancing at him and his mysterious green eyes met hers. Not just any normal green. It was the colour of pine leaves with a smoky ring of aqua blue around it.

She blinked and turned away from him. What’s wrong with me? She scolded herself silently. You can’t let anything distract you!

As she was about to leave, someone brushed against her.

“Did you like my eyes?” A voice mewed sweetly from behind.

Shadowseer spun around in surprise, only to find no one. Not a single soul. But the ghostly voice kept on echoing in her mind.

Did you like my eyes? Did you like my eyes?

Sixty seconds.

He knew that her life could literally end in a minute, would cease to exist. The Hunger Games were cruel and he didn’t see the point of winning. What’s to win when you’re the only one surviving?

30 seconds.

Owlhook narrowed his eyes as he observed his surroundings cautiously. A forest of unfamiliar trees was right in front of him. From afar, he could see signs of life in it. He felt slightly at ease. At least he knew how to survive in the woods as a ThunderClan cat.

10 seconds

He could see the Cornucopia, a giant, golden horn shaped like a cone with a curved tail. Around it was leaves strewn everywhere and inside were things that could help them throughout the Hunger Games.

5 seconds

He lowered his hunches, his tail lashing determinedly. I can do this, he willed himself.

“Let the 76th Hunger Games begin!”

Owlhook sprang forward powerfully, pleased that his muscles responded smoothly. He lunged for one of the leaf sack quickly, grabbing it with his jaws and racing off into the woods. Another cat knocked into him and he almost lost his grip on the leaf sack. The tapping of pawsteps from behind was obvious that someone was targeting him. He could feel incredibly sharp teeth sinking into his tail. With a yowl of pain, he lashed his tail away and steered towards his left sharply, disappearing into the woods.

He could hear a few long mournful yowls in the distance, each one representing a dead tribute. He kept on running through the trees, the leave sack tightly secured in his jaws. I can do this, he willed himself. I can do this! Almost instantly, he could hear his father’s voice.

Just one word.

Sing.

He began with a soft voice, just like how his father would start.

I live to simply sing the song of love
And play the music of my heart

Owlhook blinked as he paused for a heartbeat. It painfully reminded of the times he and his father used to sing together in the woods. Swallowing hard, he continued.

My soul is free
It rises and rides with the breeze
Run, run, run a thousand nights
Towards the fading light
I struggle to the last
But my strength is waning fast
I fight to survive even if the notes of this song
Are the only parts of me to leave

He was struggling with his emotions when he launched into the last verse.

I can’t stop
I can’t wait.
I’ll keep on running whatever it takes.

A new surge of energy rushed through his body and he sprinted through the trees, leaving behind clouds of dust after him. The wind ruffled his fur lightly. For the first time in his life, he felt at peace.
A rustle in the bushes nearby jolted him out of his thoughts. He slowed down and glanced around warily. Someone’s coming, he thought, hiding himself in some thick bushes. After a few tensed heartbeats, a dark gray she-cat burst into the clearing, her fur in clumps and her flank heaving.

It was Lightningstorm, the she-cat tribute of ThunderClan.

Behind her, a group of four other tributes emerged from the trees. It was no surprising matter for alliance was often formed at the start of the games.

A brawny gray tom drew his lips back into a menacing snarl and pounced onto Lightningstorm, sinking his teeth into her neck. She let out a scream of agony as the other cats advanced onto her. She put up a great fight, clawing her attackers furiously.

Owlhook’s eyes widened at the horrible scene enveloping before him. Part of him desperately wanted to help her but he knew he couldn’t stand a chance against four warriors.

Everything’s alright. That’s how the games are supposed to work. It’s kill or be killed, he thought, trying to assure himself. Lightingstorm might be able to defeat them.

The gray tom and his gang released Lightningstorm and yowled triumphantly, “Three dead, fifteen more to go!” With that, they disappeared out of sight.

Owlhook immediately sprinted forward towards the fallen she-cat. His worse fears had come true. Lightningstorm lay on the ground limply in a pool of blood, her eyes blank and lifeless and there were huge gashes all over her body. Her neck was torn open, which killed her instantly.

A strangled wail gurgled in his throat. I’m so sorry, Lightningstorm!

Too late, came the silent reply. Too late.

Icetail gingerly used her teeth to unwrap her own leaf sack. Inside were a shriveled mouse and a strange-smelling bundle of leaves. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. The dark forest cats are sure mean, providing such worthless items!

She gulped down the bland-tasting mouse in two large bites, realising how ravenous she was, after barely escaping the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. Her ear was torn badly and blood was trickling down her left shoulder. There had been a huge fight over the best leaf wraps, those nearest to the Cornucopia but she didn’t dare risk her neck for it and grabbed one of those closest to her. She badly regretted her reckless decision.

Icetail leaped into the tallest tree she could find, nestling in the branches sleepily. You’re a SkyClan cat. Use the best of your abilities. Her mentor’s advice rang through her head once more.

A long yowl sounded in the distance and she cringed. She hated this kind of meaningless killings. Just then, there was a voice directly below her. “Hey you, Clan cat! I know you’re up there! I’ve been following you!”

Blinking away her drowsiness, Icetail peered down, only to strange purple eyes staring into hers. Silently scolding herself for dozing away, she gracefully leaped down, finding herself face to face with a very small gray she-cat.

“Alliance?”

Icetail glanced warily at the other cat. She posed no threat with her puny size but could also make surviving more difficult for her. Hunting for herself was already a challenge but for two cats?

The gray she-cat seemed to have read her thoughts as she mewed brightly,” I can hunt by myself. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Icetail remained silent for a few heartbeats. An ally might be useful…

Taking her silence as an acceptance to her request, the gray cat purred,” I’m Grace from the Tribe of the Falling Darkness.”

Icetail dipped her head at her new friend,” Icetail of SkyClan.”

Grace opened her own leaf sack, revealing two plump rabbits. Icetail’s mouth watered at the sight of prey. The previous mouse had barely filled her belly. Her eyes widened when the Tribe cat nudged both of the rabbits towards her. “You can have both. I already ate one just now.”
Icetail dipped her head gratefully at the offer, keeping one of the rabbits in her own leaf sack while ravenously finishing off the other. She winced slightly as she licked her wounds, limping off onto a dry patch of heather.

Grace spotted the bundle of leaves in Icetail’s leaf sack. Her eyes lit up. “I know what to do!”
She gave them a couple of good chews and spat the juice onto Icetail’s wounds. Almost instantly, there was a cool sensation over Icetail’s fur. A purr rumbled in her throat.

Icetail glanced at the darkening sky. There was a rumble of thunder from the distance, signaling an approaching storm.

“I’ll look for a camp for the night. Stay here and wait for me alright, Grace?”

Grace blinked and curled into a tight ball. She nodded ever so slightly. Icetail could sense that the young cat was scared without her.

“Don’t worry, Grace. I’ll be back,” She licked the gray she-cat, trying to reassure her. As she padded off, she heard the Grace’s voice calling after her.

“Promise?”

The gray cat’s eyes were wide with fear and her fur was all fluffed out nervously. She was huddled next to two leaf sacks, looking awfully small and vulnerable.

“Promise.”

With one last glance back, the black-and-white she-cat disappeared into the dense forest. Icetail sniffed the air. There was a stale scent of fox in the air. She shuddered slightly, resuming on her search of shelter when she suddenly stopped. Icetail stiffened and glanced around warily but there was no one.

What’s wrong? There’s no one here! She snapped at her own self silently.

But her instincts told her something was wrong. She could feel it.

Something slammed into her side and she doubled over in pain, yowling. There was a throbbing pain in her head and her vision blurred. She could feel something brush against her fur. A familiar scent wafted into her nose.

Grace. Her loyal companion was crouched over her, yowling something at her but Icetail gazed blankly back, her mind whirling in confusion as she strained her ears to hear what she was saying. She caught a few broken phrases with her name in it.

“I’m sorry Grace,” Icetail spluttered weakly, blood bubbling from her lips. Her lips twitched a little as she tried to form a slight smile. After a few agonized heartbeats, she closed her eyes.
______________________________________________________________________________

Grace stared at the black-and-white warrior in horror and despair. She buried her face into her fur, hoping to find warmth but it was all cold. A long yowl sounded in the distance. There was no doubt who it belonged to.

“Icetail! Icetail! No!” She shrieked, not caring who heard her. “Don’t leave me like this!”
Her muffled cries were the only sound in the air. Realisation finally dawned upon her. Icetail was dead and never coming back. It was just too much for her.

“You promised, Icetail…” Grace choked on her grief. “You promised you would come back…”

Lightning streaked across the sky as it began to drizzle. A white she-cat was watching in the shadows at the small gray figure hunched over a fallen warrior. She stood there, making no move, her eyes never leaving the pair. After standing for what seemed like eternity, she silently left, shaking her head ever so slightly.

Another life lost.

Another life lost.

Honeypaw shook his head in dismay as the sound of a cannon reverberated through the air. It was the beginning of leaf-bare and the days were getting colder. Prey was scarce as the harsh weather had driven them into the ground. A heavy snowstorm was brewing and gales of strong wind slammed into the WindClan apprentice.

The golden-furred tom stumbled forward weakly. His throat was parched and he longed for water. His coat was covered with a thin layer of frost. Finally, exhaustion overcame him and he collapsed onto the ground limply.

Three days had gone by since the start of the Hunger Games and already, there were already seven tributes dead, leaving behind eleven. Honeypaw heard the crunching of snow nearby and his heart beat with fear. Am I going to die?

Just then, water trickled along his chin and he lapped it eagerly, quenching his thirst. “Thank you,” He croaked, shifting slightly as he blinked at his savior, who was turning to leave. Such strange purple eyes… He heard a soft murmur,” I can’t let the same thing happen again. No more lives in my paws… no more…”
______________________________________________________________________________

Grace trudged through the snow forest wearily. She absentmindedly stepped onto a broken twig and there was a loud snap. She immediately stopped, glancing around. Did anyone hear? Suddenly a tawny brown tom loomed into her vision. His eyes were wild and his pelt was matted and covered with dirt.

“Lightningstorm, are you watching? I will avenge your death.” The warrior muttered the phrase over and over under his breath.

I will avenge your death. I will avenge your death, my sweet Lightningstorm.

Grace was terrified. Without Icetail next to her, she felt vulnerable and weak. She froze when the warrior suddenly went silent, his hollow stare fixed right at her. She froze.

“You killed Lightningstorm? You killed her? Was it you?” The brown tom drew his lips back into a snarl and charged towards her, his eyes blazing with fury. Grace desperately scampered away from the terrifying figure but a heavy paw clamped onto her tail.

“Don’t run away,” He wheezed as Grace struggled relentlessly. “Face and fight me.”

A white she-cat suddenly burst into the clearing, bristling with ferocity as she leaped onto the brown warrior. The tom staggered under her weight as he crumbled onto the ground, pinned down by the white she-cat firmly.

His eyes were wild with terror as the she-cat unsheathed her claws. She raised one paw, directly above his neck, poised to strike. Grace recoiled in horror. Her claws were about three inches long, with incredibly sharp edges. One strike and it’s the end, she thought. Is she going to kill me afterwards?

“Any last words?”

The brown tom looked mournful for a heartbeat before he spoke, his voice etched with grief and regret, “Tell Lightningstorm I’m sorry that I couldn’t save her.”

Grace spotted a brief hesitation in the white she-cat’s eyes but it disappeared as she sank her claws into his throat, raking it right through his belly. His eyes flared in pain before the life in his eyes slowly faded away into nothingness.

There was a cannon shot and the white warrior turned to her. Time suddenly slowed down under her icy gaze. She stepped forward and Grace backed away in terror and braced herself.
Nothing happened.

“Stay away from danger, tribe cat.” The white she-cat spoke, sheathing her claws. “Tributes are mysteriously killed. Beware of the cat with green eyes.” With one last glance at her, she leaped away into the undergrowth.

Her words rang through Grace’s head once more.

Beware of the cat with green eyes.

Brightpaw hurtled into the cave, panting wildly but breathless with excitement. Her allies, Gale and Emberstrike who were guarding the entrance, leaped to their paws. Noting the look of glee on the young RiverClan apprentice’s face, Gale gazed at her expectantly, waiting for her to speak.

“I saw three tributes! One of them was killed. There was a white she-cat and a small gray she-cat –“

Before she could finish speaking, Gale lunged towards her, pinning her down. His eyes were blazing as he snarled, “A small gray she-cat?”

“Y… yes,” Brightpaw stuttered, shocked by his sudden question.

Gale released his grip, taking a few deep breaths. Grace’s alive. He felt a pang of relief but did not show it. “What else?” he grunted.

“The white she-cat said something…” Brightpaw cocked her head as she tried to recall her memory. “Beware of the cat with green eyes.”

Gale stared back loftily and snorted, “Green eyes? Have you ever noticed what colour your eyes are?”

Her pelt burned with embarrassment as she looked into the puddle before her. A pair of brilliant green eyes… Brightpaw blushed deeply and snapped back,” I’ve noticed it! But you know that I’m not the one who’s been killing tributes!”

There was a deathly silence whenever anyone mentioned the mysterious killings. Emberstrike broke the silence by saying,” Well, I’m sure it isn’t you. Both of you stay here. I’ll go find something to eat.” With that, she swiftly padded out of the cave. Brightpaw sullenly grumbled,” I wonder where Crookedjaw went…”

Her voice trailed off when she noticed Gale’s mournful look. The colour drained from her face as he half-heartedly flicked his tail towards the striped tabby tom lying nearby, which she was complete oblivious to when she arrived. Her eyes shimmered as she crouched forward slowly. The tom neck was torn open, his lifeless eyes wild with fear. His once-sleek brown fur was matted with dried blood.

Brightpaw bowed her head in grief, her heart aching with sorrow. Why? Why must it be like this?

“He was killed by a warrior’s blow.” She heard Gale murmured, unsure whether he was speaking to her or to himself. His eyes flashed. “Could it be the mysterious killer?”

“Grace! She might be in trouble!” The white tom let out a hiss of fury as he pelted out of the cave.

Brightpaw looked up in surprise, her eyes wide. “Wait! Gale!” She cried as she stumbled out of the cave, tripping over her paws clumsily and falling onto the ground. She felt like a kit once more, weak and helpless as she watched the retreating figure.

“Gale… “
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He was running through the woods before he knew it.
He felt a twinge of regret for leaving behind Brightpaw as he tore across the clearing. “Grace…” He whispered, suddenly afraid of saying her name. “Grace, wait for me, wherever you are…”

His voice carried freely along the small breeze, echoing throughout the whole arena. He paused abruptly in his pawsteps. His instincts told him that something was amiss. The forest was quiet. The birds were silent. The only sound he could hear was his own ragged breathing. He scanned around slowly, trying to detect any danger when he saw her.

Emberstrike.

She was there. Right in front of him. Lying unmoving on a soft patch of heather, her face turned away from him.

He approached her cautiously, turning her head gently towards him. A gasp escaped from his throat. Remains of crushed bright red berries lined along the curve of her jaws, a few of it strewn across the ground. He sniffed them curiously and flinched.

Deathberries!

Gale stepped back immediately. His mentor, Stealth, had warned him about the danger of this poisonous berries. Despite their tasty-looking appearance, it was deadly and can kill in heartbeats after being consumed.

His eyes shone with sadness and he blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall. Another friend gone… He felt an undisguised hatred for the Dark Forest cats. How many more lives to be lost because of the Hunger Games?

He gazed at the darkening sky. The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. All of a sudden, it started raining. The rain grew heavier as he stood there silently, lost in thought in the open. His coat was soaked with water and his fur clung onto his stocky frame. He did not speak but kept staring into the sky. The Tribe of the Endless Hunting, he thought. Are you still watching over us? The Dark Forest is making us lose everything that makes us a tribe. You have to do something!

Gale glanced over his shoulder at his fallen comrade. Painful memories vividly rushed through his mind. All his friends… Once alive but now gone. Hazeldust, Streamfur, Crookedjaw… and now Emberstrike…

Who would be next?

“We’re here.”

Shadowseer announced triumphantly as they arrived right before a pile of fresh-kill, hidden in the deepest parts of the woods where no one dared to venture except ShadowClan, who have no fear of the dark. Her mouth salivated at the sight of food. A juicy rat would be enough, she thought, her lips curled into a twisted smile.

She glanced over her shoulder to see her ally, Scorchscar, padding after her, his black fathomless eyes glinting with menace. He aimed a heavy blow at the side of her head and she lost her footing, falling onto the ground weakly. Her mind spun and her vision blurred.

“You said we were allies!” Shadowseer blurted as she tried to stand. She barely had any strength left and her legs gave way. She blinked as she came face to face with the gray warrior. Terror rushed through her veins as he sneered,” I’ve said a lot of things before.”

“No…” Shadowseer couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But I’m your… your…”

Her body flared with pain as he plunged his claws right into her heart and she blacked out.
______________________________________________________________________________

It was already midnight when he padded through the familiar pathway through the dark woods. The evergreen trees towered over him, casting elongated shadows on the ground. His heart skipped a beat as he entered the eerie-looking den. A gray tom was sitting inside, his face hidden behind his thick fur. Dipping his head in upmost respect, he dropped the large rabbit before the gray tom.

“Has the tributes from ShadowClan been disposed of, Scorchscar?” The gray tom’s voice was mysteriously deep but it carried a sense of authority as he stepped forward.

Scorchscar continued in his hunched position and he meekly replied,” Yes.”

“Very good,” The gray tom mewed, his voice now dangerously soft as he circled him.

Scorchscar gave an involuntarily shudder, sensing that something bad was going to happen. He gave a quick glimpse for any signs of exit but he knew that the gray tom much faster and stronger than him. He froze when he heard his next words.

“Scorchscar, I am pleased with your services. But I cannot trust you. You killed your own kin without even hesitating. How long will it take for you to kill me? I cannot let such a thing happen.”

Scorchscar glanced up in utmost surprise. “My… my kin?”

“Yes. Did you realise who Shadowseer was?”

He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, suddenly recalling what had happened earlier on.

You said we were allies!

I’ve said a lot of things before.

No… But I’m your… your…

Before she could say anything, she was already dead. He had killed her. I killed her. Scorchscar opened his eyes abruptly. “She… she was my sister?”

“Yes.”

He blinked a few more times, trying to take in everything. He had found her somewhat vaguely familiar. Her black-silver fur. Her torn left ear. Those beautiful mustard yellow eyes.

“No… no… no… it can’t be…” Scorchscar shook his head, unable to absorb the fact that he had killed his own sister.

“I feel sorry for you,” The gray tom drawled, not sounding sorry at all. “Poor Scorchscar. And on the brighter side, you are no longer needed. In other words, I have no reason to let you live.”

In one quick fluid motion, he unsheathed his claws and slit his throat. The FireClan tom’s body twitched once before he collapsed onto the ground. The gray tom watched as the light in his eyes slowly ebbed away, glinting with hatred and anger.

Quick and clean, he thought, allowing a ghost of a smile on his face.

“I wonder who’s next?”

She was running for her life.

Maneuvering wildly through the woods, she dared not look back. Behind her were a pack of dogs, who had suddenly charged out of nowhere, now hungry for her blood. She had seen movements in the trees then, and she highly suspected that this was one of the dirty works that the Dark Forest cats were doing. She could feel the hot breath of a dog that came to near and she ran even faster, kicking dust behind.

She was thankful for the rigorous training she had as a FireClan warrior, racing here and there. Her legs were now well-muscled and she could run long distances without stopping. She changed her direction abruptly, leaving the pack behind in confusion.

After making sure that no more dogs were on her trail, Flameflicker lightly ducked into the thorn bushes, slightly grimacing as she licked where the brambles cut her. She felt her fur flatten as her rapid breathing calmed.

Until she saw someone.

There was a young tribute before her, with unusual golden fur, wading into the stream, oblivious to her presence.

She sniffed the air tentatively, trying to differ which Clan he was from. WindClan. She narrowed her eyes. When did WindClan cats swim?

As she watched him, she noticed a pair of strange purple eyes staring back at her in the shrubs beside her. She took a closer look. It was a small gray she-cat, looking slightly frightened.
Flameflicker softened a little. She painfully reminded her of her younger sister, Auburnpaw. Swallowing a choke, she mewed quietly, not wanting to scare her away,” What’s your name?”

The pair of eyes blinked before replying, “Grace.”

“I’m Flameflicker. How many moons are you?”

“I’ll be seven moons next moon.”

“So you’re six moons?”

Grace frowned. “I’ll be eight moons in two more moons.”

The FireClan warrior couldn’t help smiling. She liked that apprentice.

“Could we form an alliance?” she asked.

Grace looked as though she would readily agree but she shook her head slowly.

“No. I…” The gray she-cat avoided her gaze and stared at her paws.

“Won’t?”

“I can’t.” She whispered so softly that Flameflicker strained to catch her words. When she looked up, her eyes were filled with great sadness. “Cats who are around me just get hurt. I can’t afford to risk an ally.”

Flameflicker opened her mouth to object but she noted the warning look in Grace’s eyes and she shut her jaws. She felt an aching sorrow in her heart as the gray she-cat disappeared into the trees.
Her eyes never left the spot where she last saw Grace. She thought of her sister. Her bright eyes and her cheerful disposition. The sweet scent that clung to her fur.

She missed her deeply.
______________________________________________________________________________

Brightpaw padded along the river, watching wistfully around her surroundings. Where was Gale? She suddenly felt vulnerable and weak without him. A sudden movement jolted her out of her thoughts. She was flung aside and a heavy paw clamped on her, forcing her onto the ground when she tried to rise.

“Who do we have here?” She heard a voice mewed sweetly. She squirmed under the strong grip as she peered up.

It was him.

The mysteriously killer everyone had been talking about.

She stared right into his eyes. It was neither green nor blue but more of something in between.

“Find my eyes strange?” The gray tom began bitterly. “Everyone does. Nobody –“He broke of suddenly, before stuttering,” You… you… I know you…”

Brightpaw widened her eyes in surprise when he released his grip and leaped back one tail length away. “Just this once,” she heard him mutter before he blended into the shadows. “Just this once…”
The RiverClan apprentice scowled slightly. She was sure that she had not seen him before but he was certain that he recognized her.

There was one burning question in her mind.

Who was he?

Thud… thud… thud…

Honeypaw shook with fear as he raced ahead. He could hear the staccato tapping of pawsteps behind him in fast pursuit. His heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he thought that even StarClan could hear it.

THUD… THUD… THUD…

The sound of pawsteps were growing louder and louder and he knew that his pursuer was gaining speed after him. He kept on running until he realised that path he was taking was leading to the gorge.

No, no, no! His instincts yowled at his mind and he screeched to a halt, right at the edge of the gorge. It was so deep that he couldn’t even see the bottom. If he fell down, he knew that the chances of instant death were too high for him to risk it.

With that, he turned around to face his pursuer.

A large well-muscled silver tom with deep green eyes towered over him, his fangs bared. There was an air of menace around him and Honeypaw cringed, taking a step backwards. It was a huge mistake. A few rocks behind him fell off the edge and he could feel the ground beneath his paws shifting slightly under his weight.

“You’re all trapped, aren’t you?” The tom mewed sneered. “Do you know what will happen if I push you?”

Honeypaw’s eyes widened in terror and dug his claws into the ground. The tom’s eyes gleamed as he placed a paw forward, adding more weight to the ground. Almost immediately, Honeypaw could feel the ground leaning sideways. He frantically tried to run past the warrior but the silver tom merely blocked his path, leaving him with no escape.

“Please… don’t…” Honeypaw begged, glancing at the bottomless gorge.

“I have to do this,” The silver tom hissed, “for the sake of my Clan.”

Honeypaw could have sworn that he saw a brief flash of pain and regret in his eyes but it was immediately replaced by a cold hard look. Both of his paws shot forward, curled around the WindClan apprentice’s throat, choking him.

His body fought fiercely as he yearned for a gulp of air. He struggled weakly, feeling the strength sapped away from him.

“Don’t… don’t do this…” He managed to rasp, his vision starting to blur.

He felt the grip around his throat loosen and saw a mix of emotions on the silver tom’s face. Grief, hurt and sorrow were etched upon his face.

“I can’t,” The silver tom whispered. “They’ll kill me.”

He closed his eyes and forced more pressure onto the ground. Honeypaw felt himself falling backwards. The wind rushed against his fur forcefully as he plunged into the gorge.

“I can’t turn back anymore. This is the path I’ve taken,” The silver tom murmured, slinking away into the shadows.

“And I’ll follow it until the end, even at the cost of my life.”
______________________________________________________________________________

Grace could barely contain her shock as she caught sight of a golden-furred cat plummeting down from above into the churning currents of the river.

“Was… was that a cat?”

Though she couldn’t believe her eyes, she knew that she had to do something. She couldn’t possibly just let him drown right before her eyes.

The tribe she-cat daintily leaped towards the tom across the stepping stones and grabbed him by his scruff, dragging him out of the water. The golden tom spluttered the water in his mouth and drowsily blinked a couple of time. Surprise flickered across his gaze but he merely heaved himself onto a patch of soft heather in exhaustion.

“You… did you just fall from above?” Grace shot him an incredulous look.

The golden tom cocked his head to one side, clearly confused. “What? What just happened? One moment I was searching for prey… and now I’m here.” His legs suddenly buckled and he knelt onto the ground, gritting his teeth as if in agony. “My… my head hurts a lot…” He whimpered, shutting his eyes.

What’s going on? Grace felt puzzled. A sudden realization flashed through her mind. Could it be... a memory lost?

She rushed over towards the golden apprentice, worry in her eyes. He was still panting, his eyes closed.

“What’s your name?”

He opened his eyes a slit wider. “Honeypaw.”

“What Clan are you from?”

“WindClan.”

“How many moons are you?”

“7 moons.”

“What’s your favourite prey?” Grace couldn’t help asking.

“Rabbit legs – Hey! Can you stop asking questions? I’m dying here!” Honeypaw snapped, shuddering slightly and groaning in pain.

Grace frowned and opened her own leaf sack, pushing a bundle of sweet smelling flowers towards the watching WindClan apprentice. He sniffed it curiously, inhaling the fragrance and stifled a purr,” What is this?”

“It’s lavender flowers. Eat them and they will soothe your headache.” The tribe she-cat replied nervously as Honeypaw pawed the petals doubtfully.

Then slowly, the tom adjusted himself into a crouch, nibbling the lavender flowers daintily. He chewed them unhurriedly, seeming to actually enjoy himself. “Thank you,” He mewed gratefully, pausing to lick his pelt with long rhythmic strokes.

All of a sudden, Honeypaw shuddered once, dropping to the ground limply. He twitched once and went still.

“Honeypaw? Honeypaw!” Grace yowled, bounding forward, licking his cheek furiously. “Honeypaw? Wake up!”

When the WindClan apprentice didn’t stir, the tribe she-cat buried her nose into his fur. Her legs were trembling when she stepped back.

How could this happen? Lavender flowers are the perfect remedy for headaches! Her mind screamed at her and she started rummaging the half-eaten pile of petals. She could barely believe her own eyes when she saw the distinctive black skin of nightshade. Those were once of the most poisonous berries that can cause instant death when consumed.

Grace stretched her eyes wide, momentarily speechless. Nightshade berries? Where did they come from?

Realisation finally dawned upon her.

There was someone nearby.

And she was about to be killed.

He did not even wince as he limped through the brambles, not even bothering to lick his long gash on his shoulder. Bite marks were evidently etched on his back and his fur were in clumps. Raindrops fell mercilessly upon his back, drenching him thoroughly. At his tail was Flameflicker, equally defeated but with a defiant glare in her eyes.

He shook in fury, narrowing his eyes, letting out a hiss of frustration as he paused before the edge of the gorge. Icetail… He closed his eyes at the thought of her, sinking his claws into the soft ground. The cat he once loved… was now a StarClan cat. He shivered, partly in cold… and fear.

Fear. The word itself felt weird on his tongue. That feeling was a new experience. With his hefty size, he had never felt afraid of anything. He inflicted fear upon others.

Dark blood seeped from his wound, staining the grass red. It seemed that the adder that had bitten him was one of the venomous ones. He felt a tingling sensation on along his spine and knew that the poison was already working through his body.

He knew that he only had a few more days to live with his miserable state. He suddenly jolted out of his troubled thoughts by a sudden yowl. Someone’s in trouble! A dark look flickered across his face. It was impossible to tell what he felt as he rushed towards the sound of the cry. Flameflicker unsheathed her claws and sprang ahead of him powerfully, with much more strength then a cat her size should possess.

A silver-furred tom was lying on the ground in a pool of blood with a pack of dogs attaching him ferociously. Stormclaw glanced at Flameflicker, who abruptly halted in her pawsteps. Her demeanor faltered and he could sense a strong wave of panic in her eyes. Within heartbeats, she pelted off into the direction where they came from.

He was so distracted that he never saw the dog rushing towards him. It was already too late when he realised how much danger he was in. The dog was massive, about three times his size and with the most crazed eyes he has ever seen.

He stood there, momentarily dazed until something cannoned into him from the side, flinging him away from the snapping teeth. “Get out of my way!” A white she-cat snarled at him, raking her claws right at the dog’s nose, causing it to whine in pain. Her movements were rapid, a whirlwind of claws and teeth.

Dogs yelped in pain, turning tail and fleeing into the trees. She padded towards the fallen warrior, bending down to lick his face.

“Brother…“ She murmured, nosing his face with surprising gentleness and fondness. The gray tom jerked his head up at her touch, writhing slightly, his smoky eyes glowing amber. He bared his teeth and lunged for the white she-cat’s throat but she merely pushed him back down firmly with one paw.

“Don’t resist. You’re too weak already. It’ll only be for a heartbeat. He knows what he’s doing.”

He continued to struggle for a few heartbeats before limply falling back to the ground, his eyes now back to a dull green. “Snowlily…” he breathed, turning to look at her. “He’s too strong…”
Stormclaw watched from the trees in silent horror and fascination as the scene unfolded before him when the white she-cat whipped her head round to face him, with blazing eyes.

“Forget what you just saw. If I start hearing things…” She never completed what she wanted to say but the burning intensity in her eyes was so great that it made him cringe. He could tell that she was trying to mask her hurt and sorrow - the only tell-tale mark was a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“I saved your life,” her voice wavered as if she was afraid to say it out loud, her eyes pleading.

“So please, don’t tell anyone.”

Brightpaw pressed her muzzle against Gale's, burying her face into his soft fur, feeling the strong rhythmic thudding of his heartbeat. She glanced up at the night sky, which was filled with bright twinkling stars and right at the very top was a pale moon, shadowed by clouds.

After a few heartbeats of silence, Gale tilted his head upwards and murmured," My mother once told me a story of the wolf and the moon." His dark black eyes rested on the RiverClan apprentice coolly. "Both of them were lovers. Wherever the moon went, the wolf would follow," he continued, his gaze never leaving hers.

He leaned forward nearer, stopping right before their noses touched, suppressing a shiver down Brightpaw's back. His eyes scanned her face, searching for any sign of resistance. Brightpaw held her breath for a moment, taking in his the fresh smell of grass on his coat, his smooth complexion.

"You will be my moon and I will always follow you," he breathed, pressing his face against hers, inhaling her sweet scent. He lay still next to Brightpaw, observing the fall and rise of her fur as she drifted off to sleep. He could see a shimmering cat in the trees, whose features were identical to his. He blinked for a couple of times, shifting closer to Brightpaw.

“Just this once father,” Gale whispered, shutting his eyes tightly and opening them to find that the StarClan tom had vanished. What was left behind were four muddy paw prints.

______________________________________________________________________________

Gale was already awake before dawn. He stood next to Brightpaw, who was fast asleep. He felt a sudden rush of affection for her and couldn’t help bending forward and brushing his face against hers. As he took a step back, he tried his best to push away the guilt which was gradually increasing in his heart.

“I never finished the story…” His voice shook as he spoke. “The wolf couldn’t live forever and he left the moon eventually… leaving the moon behind…” His eyes were filled with tears, threatening to spill as he padded away from her reluctantly, with a sinking feeling in his heart.

“Goodbye Brightpaw. I hope you’ll understand my decision one day. It’s for the best.”
______________________________________________________________________________

In the trees, the RiverClan tom watched with gleaming eyes. “Looks like there’s another pair of lovers,” He purred to himself,” If I can’t have Brightpaw, neither can you.”

He dropped into a crouch and stealthily padded forward, his tail sweeping side to side above the ground in eager anticipation, taking great care in avoiding the leaves strewn all over the forest floor as he moved in for the kill.

Hatred burned within him as he followed the white tom down the riverbank. The familiar sound of rushing water instilled confidence in him and he sprang forward with a battle cry. The white tom was momentarily stunned, falling into the water together with Streamfur, who lunged at him, forcing his head underwater. The white tom overpowered the RiverClan tom easily, leaping up powerfully for his throat. Streamfur nimbly dodged it, gracefully twisting his body and bringing down both forepaws onto the surface, splashing a face full of water at the other cat.

Momentarily blinded, the white tom lost his footing and fell back underneath until he was no longer seen. Streamfur waited by the side, searching for any signs of life but there was none. Not even a ripple across the river. Satisfied, he shook the water off his fur and padded away.

He could feel sharp teeth against his fur, dragging him out of the cold water and onto dry ground. He felt a powerful thud on his chest and water spurted out from his lips. After all the water was gone from his lungs, he took a deep breath of fresh air. Gale groaned, attempting to stand but his legs were so stiff that he could barely move.

“Stay still,” a new voice grunted.

He eyed his savior with open distrust and curiousity. It was a large silver tom, with jagged stripes running down his back. He got to his paws slowly, stretching the soreness out of his bones. You could have let me die! Then I wouldn’t have to watch other die too! A quick death would be so much better than the life I’m having right now! He wanted to yowl but instead he said,” Why did you save me?”

The other cat turned around, his strange eyes fixed upon him, a nervous look on his face.

“I need your help.”
_________________________________________________________________________________

Gale couldn’t sleep that night.

The new tom, who claimed his name was Coldfang, lay next to him, mumbling in his sleep. Gale leaned forward, straining to hear what he was saying. He could hear several words being repeated over and over again. Leave me. No. Forgiveness. Help. Please.

Occasionally, he would start twitching uncontrollably, as though he was having a spasm but Gale knew better than to wake him up. It was early dawn when Coldfang suddenly sprang to his paws, his green-blue eyes wide with fear.

“Leave me! Leave me alone!” He tried to snarl at Gale, who cautiously backed away. “Get away from me now!” His last word was more like a desperate plea, as he staggered about wildly. His face was contorted in agony as he started shaking.

Gale watched in utmost horror as he crumbled onto the ground. “Coldfang?” he asked, approaching the silver tom. It was after a few heartbeats when he shuddered and glanced up. Gale flinched, taking a few steps back in terror.

His eyes were amber.