Life as a dog

[Psychic Umbreon]

This is my story about four groups of dogs who live life military style. Any C & C would be appreciated. This part is the prologue. I will post the chapters later. Without further ado...

Prologue
Orange flames lapped at the cold air, throwing sparks up into the night sky. The firelight flickered across a wasteland of ragged grass, making silhouettes of the Twolegs huddled there. A pair of white lights appeared in the distance, heralding the approach of a monster. It roared past on a Thunderpath that rose high into the sky, filling the air with sour fumes.

At the edge of the wasteland, a dog moved, its eyes glinting in the shadows – like cats eyes. Pointed ears twitched, and then flattened against the noise. More dogs followed one by one, onto the filthy grass. They carried their tails low and sniffed the bitter air with their lips curled. “What if the Twolegs see us?” growled one of the dogs.

A large male answered, his eyes like amber disks reflecting the firelight. “They won’t. Their night sight is weak.” As he padded forward, the flames lit up the black and white fur on his powerful shoulders. He held his long tail straight up, sending a message of courage to his Unit. But the other dogs crouched low against the grass, trembling.

This was a strange place. The noise of the monsters battered their sensitive ear fur, and the acrid stench stung their nostrils. “Galestar?” a grey female flicked her tail uneasily. “Why have we come here?” The black and white male turned to the female. “We’ve been driven from every place we’ve tried to settle, Greyfur. Perhaps we can find some peace here,” he growled.

“Peace? Here?” Greyfur echoed in disbelief. She pulled her pup towards her and sheltered it beneath her body. “With fire and monsters? My pups won’t be safe!” “But we weren’t safe at home,” growled another voice. A black male dog pushed his way forward, limping heavily on an injured paw. He held Galestar’s amber gaze. “We couldn’t protect them from Night Unit,” he growled. “Not even in our own territory!”

Anxious howls rose from some of the dogs as they remembered the terrible battle that had driven them from their home in the uplands, at the edge of the forest. A young apprentice whined, “Brokenstar and his warriors may still be hunting us!” The cry alerted one of the Twolegs around the fire. It stood unsteadily and stared into the shadows.

At once the dogs fell silent, crouching lower; even Galestar lowered his tail. The Twoleg shouted into the darkness and flung something toward them. The missile flew over their heads and exploded in a burst of thorn sharp pieces on the Thunderpath behind them. Greyfur flinched as a shard cut her shoulder, but she stayed silent, curling her body around her terrified pup.

“Keep down,” growled Galestar. The Twoleg at the fire spat on the ground, and then sat back down. The dogs waited for a few moments before Galestar stood once more. Greyfur stood too, wincing at the new pain in her shoulder. “Galestar, I fear for our safety here. And what will we eat? I can’t smell any prey.” Galestar stretched his neck and rested his muzzle on the female's head.

“I know you’re hungry,” he whined softly. “But we’ll be safer here than back in our old territory, or in the Twoleg fields and woods. Look at this place! Not even Night Unit would follow us here. There’s no scent of our ancestral enemies, the cats, and these Twolegs can hardly stand.” He turned to the black male with the injured paw. “Onefoot,” he ordered, “take Brownpelt and see if you can find anything to eat. If there are Twolegs, there must be rats.”

“Rats?” growled Greyfur, as Onefoot and a smaller brown male bounded away. “That’s no better than carrion!” “Hush!” growled a black and tan female beside her. “Rat meat is better than dying of starvation!” Greyfur scowled and dipped her head to lick her pup behind its matted ears. “We must find a new place to settle, Greyfur.” Galestar growled softly. The black and tan female went on more gently, “I need to rest and eat. My pups will be born soon. I need to be strong.”

The lean shapes of Onefoot and Brownpelt emerged from the shadows. “You were right, Galestar,” called Onefoot. “There are rat scents everywhere, and I think I’ve found somewhere we can shelter.” “Show us,” Galestar ordered, gathering the rest of his Unit with a flick of his tail. Cautiously, the dogs padded across the wasteland after Onefoot.

He led them toward the raised Thunderpath, the firelight making the shadows loom against its huge stone legs. A monster roared overhead and the ground shook. But even the tiniest pup sensed the need for silence and trembled without crying out. “Here,” growled Onefoot, stopping beside a round hole, two dogs high. A black tunnel sloped down into the ground.

A constant stream of water trickled into it. “The water’s fresh,” Onefoot added. “We’ll be able to drink it.” “We’ll have wet paws day and night!” Greyfur complained. “I’ve been inside,” the black male dog told her. “There’s some space away from the stream. At least we’ll be safe from Twolegs and monsters.” Galestar stepped forward and lifted his head. “Gale Unit has traveled long enough,” he declared.

“It’s nearly a month since Night Unit drove us from our home. The weather is getting colder and winter will be here soon. We have no choice but to stay.” Greyfur narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Silently she joined her Unit as, one by one; they filed into the shadowy tunnel.

 

[Latias_tamer_3]

You know what's weird, this reminds me so much of the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Only dog-style of course. I mean with the two-legs, the thunderpath and what-not.

I LIKE the fact that you didn't personify Dogs as massive idiots who are viciously savage (not like in Erin Hunter's books). Dogs can be better than cats in many ways.

You used Units instead of packs. That won me over. ^^

Overall, very interesting. They remind me of Windclan in that scene with rats and the Thunderpath and, of course, the humans who throw stuff.

 

[Psychic Umbreon]

Chapter 1

Here is Chapter 1. Latias tamer 3 - thanks for the first post, I was a bit worried that no-one would post anything.

Chapter 1
Bearfang shivered. His black and ashen-grey coloured fur was still light; it would be a few months before it was thick enough to keep out cold like this. He shuffled his forepaws on the hard earth. The sky was finally growing light as dawn crept slowly in. But even though his paws were cold, Bearfang couldn’t suppress a glow of pride. After many months as an apprentice, he was a warrior at last.

In his mind, he replayed yesterday’s victory at the Night Unit camp: Brokenstar’s glittering eyes as the Night Unit leader backed away, growling threats, before fleeing into the darkness after his traitorous companions. The remaining Night Unit dogs had been grateful to Forest Unit for helping them to get rid of their cruel leader and for the peace Forest Unit had promised them while they recovered. Brokenstar had not just brought chaos to his own Unit – he had driven the whole of Gale Unit from their territory. He had been a dark menace in the forest since before Bearfang and his sister, Sandyfur, had left their master – a Twoleg – to join Forest Unit.

But for Bearfang, there was another shadow troubling his mind: Windplume, Forest Unit’s 3rd in Command. Bearfang shivered at the thought of the great Forest Unit warrior who had terrorized his apprentice, Ravenpaw. In the end, Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe had helped the frightened apprentice to escape into the Twoleg territory beyond the uplands. Afterwards, Bearfang had told the Unit that Ravenpaw had been killed by Night Unit.

If what Ravenpaw said about Windplume was true, it was best if the Forest Unit’s 3rd in Command believed his apprentice had died, for he knew a secret Windplume would do anything to hide. Ravenpaw had told Bearfang that the mighty brown and white warrior had murdered Redtail, the previous Forest Unit 3rd in Command, in the hope that he would become the new 3rd in Command… which, eventually, he had.

Bearfang shook his head to clear it of these dark thoughts and turned to glance at Sandyfur and Greystripe sitting beside him. Sandyfur’s thick reddish-brown fur was ruffled up against the cold as was Greystripe’s grey fur. Bearfang guessed that they were looking forward to the first rays of sunshine too, but he didn’t say this out loud. Unit tradition demanded silence on this night. This was their vigil – the night when a new warrior guarded the Unit and reflected on their new name and status. Until last night, Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe had been known by their apprentice names of Bearpaw, Sandypaw and Greypaw.

Constance was one of the first dogs to wake. Bearfang could see the old female dog moving among the shadows in the elders’ den. He glanced toward the warriors’ den at the other side of the clearing. Through the branches that sheltered the den, he recognized the broad shoulders of Windplume as he slept.

At the foot of Highrock, the lichen that draped the entrance to Whitestar’s den twitched, and Bearfang saw his Unit leader push her way out. She stopped and lifted her head to sniff the air. Then she padded silently out of Highrock’s shadow, her long fur glowing whitish-black in the dawn light. I must warn her about Windplume, thought Bearfang. Whitestar had mourned Redtail’s death with the rest of the Unit, believing him to be killed in battle by Oakheart, the 2nd in Command of Water Unit. Bearfang had hesitated before, knowing how important Windplume was to her, but the danger was too great. Whitestar need to know that her Unit was harbouring a cold-blooded murderer.

Battlewing, the 2nd in Command, and Windplume emerged from the warriors’ den and met Whitestar at the edge of the clearing. Battlewing left and Windplume murmured something to Whitestar, his tail flicking urgently. Bearfang stifled his instinctive whine of greeting. The sky was growing light, but until he knew for sure that the sun was above the horizon, he dared not break his silence. He must speak with Whitestar as soon as he could. But for now, all he could do was nod respectfully at the two dogs as they passed him.

Beside him, Sandyfur nudged Bearfang and pointed upwards with her nose. An orange glow was just visible on the horizon. “Glad to see the dawn, you three?” Shadowhide’s deep growl took Bearfang by surprise. He hadn’t noticed the black warrior approaching. Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe nodded together. “It’s all right; you may speak now. Your vigil is over.” Shadowhide’s voice was kind. Yesterday he had fought side by side with Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe in the battle with Night Unit.

There was a new respect in his eyes as he looked at them. “Thank you, Shadowhide,” Bearfang growled gratefully. He stood and stretched his stiff legs one at a time. Sandyfur pushed herself up. “Brrrrr!” she growled, shaking the chill from her fur. “I thought the sun would never come up!” Greystripe said as he got to his paws. A scornful voice growled from outside the apprentices’ den. “The great warriors speak!” It was Bristlepaw – her pale ginger coat, which was marked with black stripes and spots, was fluffed up with hostility.

Drypaw was sitting beside her. (Author’s note: Bristlepaw and Drypaw are 30cm tall and both are young Golden Retrievers). With the exact same coat colour, he looked like Bristlepaw’s brother – which he was. He puffed out his chest importantly and mocked, “I’m surprised such heroes even feel the cold!” Bristlepaw barked in amusement. Shadowhide shot them a stern look. “Go and find something to eat; then rest,” he ordered Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe. The older warrior turned away and padded toward the apprentices’ den. “Come on, you two,” he growled to Bristlepaw and Drypaw. “It’s time for your training.”

“I hope he has them chasing blue squirrels all day!” Greystripe growled to Bearfang as the trio headed toward the corner where a few pieces of fresh-kill remained from last night. “But there aren’t any blue squirrels,” Bearfang whined in confusion. “Precisely!” Greystripe’s amber eyes gleamed. “You can’t exactly blame them. They did begin their training before us,” Sandyfur pointed out mildly. “If they’d fought in the battle yesterday, they’d probably have been made warriors too.” Bearfang added.

“I suppose,” Greystripe shrugged. “Hey, look!” They’d reached the fresh-kill pile. “One vole each and a rabbit to share!” The three friends picked up their meal and looked at each other. Greystripe’s eyes suddenly sparkled with delight. “I suppose we take it to the warriors’ side of the camp now,” he growled. “I suppose we do,” Bearfang growled, padding after his sister and Greystripe to the patch of nettles where they had often watched Shadowhide, Windplume, and the other warriors share fresh-kill.

“Now, what?” asked Greystripe, gulping down his last mouthful. “I don’t know about you two, but I think I could sleep for half a month.” “Me too,” Bearfang said. “Yeah, same here,” Sandyfur agreed. The three friends got to their paws and made their way toward the warriors’ den. Bearfang stuck his head through the low-hanging branches. Rustytail and Sandstorm were still asleep on the other side of the den. He pushed his way inside and found a patch of moss at the edge. The smell told him it wasn’t a sleeping place already used by another warrior. Greystripe and Sandyfur settled down beside him.

Bearfang listened as Greystripe’s and Sandyfur’s steady breaths relaxed into long, muffled snores. Bearfang felt equally exhausted, but he was still desperate to talk to Whitestar. From where he lay, his head flat to the earth, he could just see the camp entrance. He stared at it, waiting for his leader’s return, but gradually his eyes began to close, and he gave in to his longing for sleep.

Bearfang could hear a roaring around him, like wind in tall trees. The acrid stench of the Thunderpath stung his nostrils, together with a new smell, sharper and more terrifying. Fire! Flames lapped at the black sky, throwing glowing cinders up into a starless night. To Bearfang’s amazement, silhouettes of dogs flitted in front of the fire. Why hadn’t they run away? One of them stopped and looked straight at Bearfang. The male dog’s night-eyes glinted in the darkness and he lifted his long, straight tail – as if in greeting.

Bearfang trembled as a memory burst into his mind of the words that Spottedleaf, the previous Forest Unit healer, had said to him before her untimely death: “Fire will save the Unit!” Could it be something to do with the strange dogs that showed no fear of fire? “Wake up Bearfang!” Bearfang flicked up his head, startled out of his dream by Windplume’s growl. “You were whining in your sleep!” Still dazed, Bearfang sat up and shook his head. “Y-yes, Windplume!”

With a pang of alarm, he wondered if he had repeated Spottedleaf’s words out loud. He had dreamed like this before – dreams so vivid that he could taste them, and which had later come true. Bearfang certainly didn’t want Windplume to suspect him of having powers that Star Unit usually gave only to a Healer. Moonlight shone through the leafy den wall. Bearfang realized he must have slept through the whole day. “You, Sandyfur and Greystripe will join the evening patrol,” Windplume told him. “Hurry up!”

The brown and white warrior turned and stalked out of the den. Bearfang let the fur relax on his shoulders. Clearly Windplume didn’t suspect anything unusual about his dream. But while Bearfang’s secret was safe, he was equally determined to expose the murderous truth about Windplume’s role in Redtail’s death.
*******************
Bearfang licked his lips. Sandyfur lay beside him, using her right leg to scratch her ear. Greystripe was on Bearfang’s left, washing his flank. The three friends had just finished sharing a meal beside the camp clearing. The sun had set and Bearfang could see the moon, almost full now, gleaming in a cold, clear sky. The past few days had been busy. It seemed that every time they lay down for a rest, Windplume sent them out on patrol or a hunting mission. Bearfang had stayed alert, looking for a chance to talk with Whitestar alone, but when he wasn’t on one of Windplume’s missions, the Forest Unit leader always seemed to have Battlewing and Windplume at her side.

Bearfang began to scratch his ear, his eyes flicking around the camp, searching hopefully for Whitestar. “What are you looking for?” coughed Greystripe through a tongueful of fur. “Whitestar. Look, why are you doing that? You’re a dog, not a cat.” Bearfang answered, lowering his left leg. “I’ll let you in on a secret, providing you don’t tell anyone else. My father is a dog, and my mother is a cat.” Greystripe said, after he’d stopped washing and looked up at his friend. “Back to business. You’ve had one eye on Whitestar ever since our vigil. What are you planning to do?”

“I have to tell her where Ravenpaw is, and warn her about Windplume,” Bearfang growled softly. “You promised Ravenpaw you’d tell them he was dead!” Sandyfur said, sounding shocked. “I only promised to tell Windplume he was dead. Whitestar should know the whole story. She needs to know what Windplume is capable of.” Bearfang looked his sister in the eyes. Sandyfur lowered her voice to an urgent growl. “But we only have Ravenpaw’s word that Windplume killed Redtail.”

“Don’t you believe him?” Bearfang couldn’t help feeling shocked by his sister’s doubts. “Look, if Windplume lied about killing Oakheart in revenge for Redtail’s death, which means Redtail must have killed Oakheart himself. And I can’t believe that Redtail would have deliberately killed another Unit’s 2nd in Command in battle. It goes against the warrior code – we fight to prove our strength and defend our territory, not to kill one another.”

“But I’m not trying to make accusations against Redtail!” Bearfang protested. “It’s Windplume who is the problem.” Redtail had been the Forest Unit’s 3rd in Command before Windplume. Neither Bearfang nor Sandyfur had ever met Redtail, but they knew that he’d been deeply respected by the entire Unit. Sandyfur didn’t meet her brother’s gaze. “What you are saying has implications for Redtail’s honor. And none of the other dogs have a problem with Windplume. It was only Ravenpaw who was scared of him.”

An uneasy shiver ran down Bearfang’s spine. “So you think Ravenpaw made the story up because he didn’t get along with his mentor?” he growled scornfully. Sandyfur didn’t answer, instead turning and nodding her head at Greystripe, meaning that she wanted him to continue the conversation. “No,” mumbled Greystripe. “I just think we should be careful.” Bearfang looked into his sister’s worried eyes and began to wonder. He supposed Sandyfur and Greystripe did have a point – they had been warriors for only three days, so they were in no position to start hurling accusations at the Unit’s second most senior warrior.

“It’s okay,” Bearfang whined at last. “You can both stay out of it.” A twinge of regret flickered through his stomach as Sandyfur and Greystripe nodded and went back to scratching/washing. Bearfang believed his sister and their friend were wrong to think it was only Ravenpaw who had a problem with Windplume. Bearfang’s own instincts told him that Windplume could not be trusted. He had to share his suspicions with Whitestar, for her safety and the safety of the Unit.

A glimpse of white fur on the other side of the clearing told Bearfang that Whitestar had emerged from her den – alone. He scrambled to his paws, but the Forest Unit leader leaped straight up onto Highrock and called to the Unit. Bearfang lashed his tail impatiently. Sandyfur’s and Greystripe’s ears flicked excitedly as they heard Whitestar’s call. “A naming ceremony?” Sandyfur growled. “It must be Sandstorm and Shadowhide getting their first apprentices. Sandstorm’s been dropping hints for days.” Greystripe added. They bounded over to join the dogs gathering at the edge of the clearing, and, still itching with frustration, Bearfang followed.

Bristlepaw and a small black female with four white paws padded into the clearing. Their soft paws made no sound on the hard earth. Bristlepaw looked defiantly around, while the black female walked toward Highrock with her pale eyes lowered and Bearfang almost expected to see her tremble – there was something in the slope of this pup’s shoulders that made her seem too young and timid to be an apprentice. Whoever gets this one won’t be impressed! Bearfang thought, remembering the scorn he and his sister endured when they’d arrived at the camp for the first time.

The warriors had taunted them viciously on their first day with the Unit, mocking their Twoleg origins. “Everyone knows Bristlepaw, as she has already been given an apprentice name, but as for this pup,” Whitestar barked, looking down at the black female with four white paws. “From this day forward, until she has earned her warrior name, this apprentice will be called Lunarpaw.” “Lunarpaw!” The black pup couldn’t help whining her new name out loud. A quietening bark came from her mother, Constance – a black and white female, and Lunarpaw ducked her head apologetically.

“Sandstorm,” Whitestar began, “you are ready for you first apprentice. You will continue Bristlepaw’s training.” It was easy to see that Sandstorm was glowing with pride. “You are fortunate, Sandstorm, to have had more than one mentor. I expect you to pass on everything I taught you to this apprentice” – Sandstorm was still looking quite happy. Whitestar’s words carried a weight of responsibility she knew Sandstorm was ready for – “and share with her the skills you learned from Windplume and myself.”

Whitestar turned her gaze to Lunarpaw once more. “Shadowhide, you will train Lunarpaw. Our lost friend Lionheart was your mentor. I hope that his skill and wisdom will pass through you to your new apprentice.” Shadowhide lifted his head high at Whitestar’s words, and for a moment a gleam of pride showed in his eyes. He stepped forward and touched his new apprentice’s nose with his own. Lunarpaw returned the touch politely. Only her eyes, which shone like stars, gave away the fact that this young dog was excited.

Bearfang shook his head angrily. “What’s up with you?” whispered Sandyfur. “That’ll be us one day.” Greystripe added. Bearfang nodded, suddenly cheered by the thought of getting his own apprentice, and pushed away his anger. He was a part of Forest Unit now, and surely that was all that mattered?
*******************
The next night brought the full moon. Bearfang knew he should be looking forward to his first Gathering as a warrior, but he was still determined to find a chance to tell Whitestar everything he knew about Windplume, and the thought of it lay like a cold stone in his stomach. “Have you got maggot-gut or something?” growled Sandyfur beside him. “You’re pulling some very weird faces!” Greystripe agreed.

Bearfang looked at his sister and their best friend, wishing he could confide in them, but he’d promised to leave them out of it. “I’m fine,” he whined. “Come on. I hear Whitestar calling.” The three dogs trotted over to the group assembling in the clearing. Whitestar dipped her head to acknowledge their arrival. Then she turned and led the dogs out of the camp. Bearfang paused while the other dogs scrambled past him up the steep trail that led to the forest above. This journey might give him just enough time to speak to Whitestar and he wanted to gather his thoughts.

“Are you coming?” Sandyfur’s voice called down. “Yep!” Bearfang flexed his powerful hind legs and began to leap from boulder to boulder, leaving the camp behind. At the top, he paused to catch his breath, his sides heaving. The forest stretched away before him. Beneath his paws he could feel the crisp crackle of newly fallen leaves. Stars glittered in the sky like morning dew scattered on black fur. Bearfang thought of his first journey to Fourtrees with Windplume and Lionheart.

He felt a pang of sadness as he remembered Lionheart. Sandyfur’s mentor, and Forest Unit’s 3rd in Command between Redtail and Windplume, had been a warm-hearted, golden warrior. He’d been killed in battle, and Windplume had taken his place. On Bearfang’s first visit to Fourtrees, Lionheart had taken the apprentices on a round-about route, through Tallpines, past Sunningrocks, and along the Water Unit border.

Tonight Whitestar would lead them straight through the heart of Forest Unit territory. Bearfang could see her already disappearing into the undergrowth and he charged after the party of dogs. Whitestar was at the front, next to Battlewing and Windplume. Bearfang ignored Sandyfur’s surprised bark and caught up with the Unit leader. “Whitestar,” he called, panting, as he drew up beside her. “May I talk to you?”

Whitestar glanced at him and nodded. “Take the lead, Windplume,” she barked. She let her pace slow, and Windplume bounded past her. The other dogs followed the brown and white warrior without question as he raced through the undergrowth. Whitestar and Bearfang dropped into a steady trot. Within moments they were alone. The path emerged from the thick ferns into a small clearing.

Whitestar leaped onto a fallen tree and sat down, curling her tail around her paws. “What is it, Bearfang?” she asked. Bearfang hesitated, suddenly struck by doubt. Whitestar was the dog who had encouraged him and his sister to leave their Twoleg and join the Unit. Since then, she had trusted him time and time again when the other dogs had questioned their loyalty to a Unit whose blood they didn’t share. What would she say when Bearfang told her that he’d lied about Ravenpaw?

“Speak,” Whitestar ordered as the paw-steps of the other Forest Unit dogs faded into the distance. Bearfang took a deep breath. “Ravenpaw’s not dead.” Whitestar’s tail twitched in surprise, but she listened silently as Bearfang continued. “Sandyfur, Greystripe and I took him to Gale Unit’s hunting grounds. I… I think he may have joined Barley.” Barley was a loner, not a forest dog, but not a Twoleg dog either. He lived on a Twoleg farm that lay on the route to Highstones, a sacred place for all the dogs.

The Forest Unit leader stared past Bearfang into the depths of the forest. Bearfang searched her face anxiously, trying to read her expression. Was she angry? But he could see no anger in her wide, sky-blue eyes. After several long moments, Whitestar spoke. “I am glad to hear that Ravenpaw is still alive. I hope is happier living with Barley than he was in the forest.” “B-but he was born into Forest Unit!” Bearfang stammered, taken aback by his leader’s calm acceptance of Ravenpaw’s departure.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean he was suited to Unit life,” Whitestar pointed out. “After all, you and your sister weren’t Unit-born, yet you’ve both become fine warriors. Ravenpaw may find his true path elsewhere.” “He didn’t leave Forest Unit because he wanted to,” Bearfang protested. “It was impossible for him to stay!” “Impossible?” Whitestar rested her gaze on him. “What do you mean?” Bearfang looked down at the ground. “Well?” Whitestar prompted.

Bearfang’s mouth was dry. “Ravenpaw knew a secret about Windplume,” he croaked. “I… I think Windplume was planning to kill him. Or else turn the Unit against him.” Whitestar’s tail flicked from side to side, and Bearfang saw her shoulders stiffen. “Why would you think that? What was this secret that Ravenpaw knew?” Bearfang answered reluctantly, meeting her stern gaze as boldly as he dared. “That Windplume killed Redtail in the battle with Water Unit.” Redtail had been the Forest Unit 3rd in Command before Lionheart.

Bearfang had never met him, but he knew Redtail had been deeply respected by the entire Unit. Whitestar’s eyes narrowed. “A warrior would never kill another of his Unit! Even you should know that – you’ve lived with us long enough.” Bearfang recoiled at her words, flattening his ears. It was the second time tonight she’d referred to his Twoleg origins. Whitestar went on. “Windplume reported that it was Water Unit’s 2nd in Command, Oakheart, who killed Redtail,” she growled. “Ravenpaw must be mistaken. Did he actually see Windplume kill Redtail?”

Bearfang nervously flicked his tail, stirring the leaves behind him. “He said he did.” “You know that by saying this, you’re questioning Redtail’s honor, because he must have been the dog that was responsible for Oakheart’s death? One 3rd in Command would never kill a 2nd in Command in battle, not if it could possibly be avoided. And Redtail was the most honorable warrior I’ve ever known.” Whitestar’s eyes clouded with pain, and Bearfang felt a pain of dismay that he should have hurt her memory of her former 3rd in Command, even if unintentionally.

“I can’t account for Redtail’s actions,” he murmured. “I only know that Ravenpaw truly believes Windplume was responsible for Redtail’s death.” Whitestar sighed and relaxed her shoulders. “We all know that Ravenpaw has a vivid imagination,” she whined gently, her eyes sympathetic. “He was badly injured in the battle, and he left before the fighting was over. Can you be sure he didn’t fill in the parts he’d missed?” Before Bearfang could reply, a howl echoed through the forest, and Windplume bounded out of the undergrowth. His eyes flicked suspiciously over Bearfang for a moment before he addressed Whitestar.

“We’re waiting for you at the border.” Whitestar nodded. “Tell them we’ll be there in a moment.” Windplume dipped his head, turned, and raced back through the ferns. As Bearfang watched him disappear, Whitestar’s words echoed in his mind. She was right; Ravenpaw did have a strong imagination. Bearfang remembered his first Gathering, when apprentices from every Unit had hung on Ravenpaw’s words as he described the battle with Water Unit. And he hadn’t mentioned Windplume then.

Bearfang jumped up as Whitestar stood. “Are you going to bring Ravenpaw back to the Unit?” he asked, suddenly afraid he had caused even more trouble for his friend. Whitestar gazed deep into Bearfang’s eyes. “He is probably happier where he is,” she growled quietly. “For now, we will let the Unit carry on believing he is dead.” Bearfang stared back at her, his eyes wide with shock. Whitestar was going to lie to the Unit! “Windplume is a great warrior, but he is very proud,” Whitestar went on.

“It’ll be easier for him to accept that his apprentice died in battle rather than ran away. And it would be easier for Ravenpaw, too.” “Because Windplume might go looking for him?” Bearfang dared to ask. Was it possible that Whitestar believed him, even just a little bit? Whitestar shook her head with a flash of impatience. “No, Windplume might be ambitious, but he is not a murderer. Ravenpaw will be better remembered as a dead hero than a live coward.”

Windplume’s howl sounded again, and Whitestar jumped down from the log and disappeared into the ferns. Bearfang cleared the tree trunk in one leap and raced after his leader. He caught up with her at the edge of a stream. He watched while she crossed, jumping from stone to stone to the other side. Bearfang followed carefully, his mind whirling. The knowledge about Redtail’s death had been resting heavily on his shoulders for days.

Now he had finally told Whitestar, but nothing had changed. The Unit leader clearly didn’t think Windplume was capable of cold-blooded murder. And worst of all, Bearfang himself had begun to doubt whether Ravenpaw had been telling the truth. He leaped onto the far bank and charged on through the undergrowth. Bearfang skidded to a halt behind Whitestar as they reached the other Forest Unit dogs.

The group had paused at the top of the slope that led down to Fourtrees, the giant oaks where dogs from the four Units of the forest met in peace at each full moon. Bearfang’s fur prickled as he felt Windplume watching him. Did the warrior suspect what had passed between him and Whitestar? Bearfang shook his head to clear his mind and tried to think like Whitestar. Of course Windplume would be interested in what Bearfang had said to Whitestar: he was the Unit’s 3rd in Command, so he would want to know anything that might affect the Unit.

Bearfang looked again at Windplume; the brown and white warrior was staring down the slope, his ears pricked and alert. The dogs around him shuffled their paws in anticipation. Windplume glanced at each of them, silently rallying them with his steady amber gaze. Whitestar lifted her head and sniffed the air. Bearfang sensed a tightening of muscles and prickling of fur around him. Then Whitestar signaled with a flick of her tail, and the Forest Unit dogs plunged down the slope toward the Gathering.

 

[Latias_tamer_3]

YEP! This relates VERY closely to the Warrior books.

But it has dogs.

Which makes it better.

Now, it's plotline (and some names) are related to the book. I got confused at one point and thought they were cats. X| Brain-fart I guess.

You posted back so fast, I was shocked! *;101;* ZAP!

 

[Psychic Umbreon]

Chapter 2

Here's Chapter 2. Once again, Latias tamer 3, thank you for the praise.

Chapter 2
Whitestar halted on the edge of the clearing with her Unit lined up beside her. Some of the dogs from Water Unit and Night Unit turned and acknowledged their arrival. “Where’d you disappear to?” Sandyfur asked, as she and Greystripe appeared at Bearfang’s shoulder. Bearfang shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He was troubled and confused by his conversation with Whitestar, and felt glad when his sister and their best friend didn’t press him, Greystripe turning his head instead to peer around the clearing.

“Hey, look,” he growled. “The Night Unit dogs are looking stronger than I thought they would. After all, Brokenstar left them half-starved.” Bearfang followed his gaze to a sleek Night Unit warrior. “You’re right,” he agreed, surprised. “Mind you, we did most of their fighting for them!” scoffed Sandyfur. Bearfang and Greystripe’s amused growls were interrupted by Shadowhide. “The Night Unit dogs fought as hard as we did to chase out Brokenstar. We should honor their determination to recover,” he barked sternly, before padding over to a group of warriors gathered beneath one of the great oaks.

“Oops!” growled Greystripe with a guilty glance at Bearfang and Sandyfur. The young warrior trio stayed on the edge of the clearing. Bearfang could easily pick out the apprentices from the other Units – their fur was soft, their faces round and their paws plump and clumsy. Two warriors approached Greystripe, Bearfang and Sandyfur. A small brown apprentice tagged after them. Bearfang recognized the grey male from Night Unit, but not the smoky black male who walked with him.

“Hi!” growled the grey male. “Hello, Greyfoot,” replied Bearfang. He glanced at the dark black dog. Greyfoot growled, “This is Blackclaw of Water Unit.” Greystripe, Bearfang and Sandyfur nodded their greeting. The apprentice stepped timidly forward. “And this is my apprentice, Figpaw,” added Greyfoot. Figpaw looked up at Bearfang with wide, anxious eyes. “H-hi, Bearfang,” he whined. Bearfang nodded his head in greeting.

“I hear Whitestar made you three warriors after the battle,” Greyfoot growled. “Congratulations! It must have been a cold vigil.” “It was!” Greystripe and Sandyfur agreed. “Who’s that?” Bearfang broke in. A sleek female dog with a spotted golden pelt had caught his attention. She was sharing words with Battlewing and Windplume beside the Great Rock that stood in the centre of the clearing.

“That’s Spottedfur, our 2nd in Command,” growled the Water Unit warrior. Bearfang’s fur stiffened as he thought about the previous Water Unit 2nd in Command, Oakheart, and how he died in battle with Forest Unit. He was saved from having to say anything by Whitestar’s bounding onto the top of the rock to start the meeting. Two other dogs joined her, and one of them, an elderly black male, sounded the call for all dogs to gather beneath the rock. Bearfang recognized the black dog, and couldn’t help feeling surprised. Had old Blackpelt become Night Unit’s leader since Brokenstar had fled?

When the dogs had settled in front of the Great Rock, Whitestar spoke. “Forest Unit bring to this Gathering their new Healer, Jadepelt,” she announced formally. She paused while all eyes turned to the old female with the thick green fur. Bearfang noticed her shuffle her haunches on the hard ground. Early in his apprentice-ship he had spent almost a whole month nursing the female dog back to health after she had come to the Forest Unit camp. Now he could tell by the way her right ear twisted slightly that she was uncomfortable under the gaze of the other Units.

Jadepelt had been Healer to Night Unit, and dogs hardly ever left one Unit to join another. She looked around the crowd slowly until she met the gaze of Runningnose, Night Unit’s new Healer. There was a brief pause; then they exchanged a respectful nod. Jadepelt’s ear straightened and Bearfang relaxed. Whitestar spoke again. “We also bring three newly named warriors – Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe.” Bearfang held his head high, but as he felt all eyes turn to look at him, a surge of self-consciousness made his tail flick nervously.

Blackpelt stepped forward, brushing past Whitestar to stand on the highest part of the rock. “I, Blackpelt, have taken over leadership of Night Unit,” he announced. “Our former leader, Brokenstar, broke the warrior code and we were forced to chase him out.” “No mention of the fact we helped them do it,” Sandyfur growled to Bearfang. Blackpelt continued, “The spirits of our ancestors have spoken to Runningnose and chosen me as leader. I have not yet traveled to Mothermouth to receive Star Unit’s gift of nine lives, but I will make the journey tomorrow night while the moon is still full. After my vigil at the Moonstone, I shall be known as Blackstar.”

“Where is Brokenstar now?” called a voice from the crowd. It was Blandamour, the white Forest Unit *****. “I think we can assume that he has left the forest, with the other banished warriors. He knows it would be dangerous for him to try to return,” answered Blackpelt. “I hope so,” Bearfang heard Blandamour murmur to her neighbour, a plump brown *****. Water Unit’s leader, Streamstar, stepped forward. “Let’s hope Brokenstar has had the sense to leave the forest for good. His greed for territory threatened us all.”

Streamstar waited for the howls of agreement to die down before he went on. “While Brokenstar was Night Unit’s leader, I allowed him to hunt in our river. But now Night Unit has a new leader, and this agreement can no longer stand. The prey in our river belongs to Water Unit alone.” Growls of triumph rose from the other Water Unit dogs, but Bearfang saw with a feeling of alarm that Blackpelt was bristling. Blackpelt raised his voice. “Night Unit has the same needs as it did under Brokenstar. We have many mouths to feed, Streamstar. You made an agreement with the whole of Night Unit!”

Streamstar leaped to his paws and turned on Blackpelt. He flattened his ears and snarled, and the dogs below fell silent. Quickly Whitestar stepped between the two leaders. “Night Unit has suffered many losses recently,” she whined softly. “With fewer mouths to feed, Blackpelt, do you really need Water Unit’s fish?” Streamstar snarled again, but Blackpelt held his gaze without flinching. Whitestar spoke again, this time more forcefully. “You have just driven out your leader and several of your strongest warriors! And Brokenstar went against the warrior code when he forced Streamstar to agree to share the river.”

Bearfang swallowed uneasily as he noticed Blackpelt unsheathe his claws, but Whitestar didn’t blink. Her icy blue gaze glinted in the moonlight as she growled, “Remember you have not even received your nine lives from Star Unit. Are you so confident you can make these demands?” Bearfang tensed as he felt the bristling of fur around him. The whole crowd was waiting for Blackpelt’s response. Blackpelt looked away angrily. His tail flicked from side to side but he said nothing. Whitestar had won. Her voice softened, “We all know Night Unit has suffered much these past few months,” she whined.

“Forest Unit has agreed to leave you in peace until you have had time to recover.” She turned her gaze on Streamstar. “I’m sure that Streamstar will agree to show you the same respect.” Streamstar narrowed his eyes and nodded. “But only as long as Night Unit is not scented in our territory,” he growled. Bearfang relaxed, letting the fur lie flat on his shoulders. Now that he knew what it was like to fight in a real battle, he admired his leader’s courage even more in challenging these two great warriors. Muffled whines of relief and agreement sounded in the crowd as the tension on the Great Rock suddenly eased. “You won’t scent us, Streamstar,” growled Blackpelt. “Whitestar was right – we don’t need your fish. After all, we have the uplands to hunt in, now that Gale Unit have left their territory.”

Streamstar looked at Blackpelt, his eyes brightening. “That’s true,” he agreed. “This will mean extra prey for all of us.” Whitestar drew up her head sharply. “No! Gale Unit must return!” Streamstar and Blackpelt looked at the Forest Unit leader. “Why?” asked Streamstar. “If we share Gale Unit’s hunting grounds, it will mean more food for all of our pups!” Blackpelt pointed out. “The forest needs four Units,” Whitestar insisted. “Just as we have Fourtrees, and four seasons, Star Unit has given us four Units. We must find Gale Unit as soon as possible and bring them home.”

The Forest Unit dogs raised their voices in support of their leader, but Streamstar’s impatient howl rose above them. “Your argument is weak, Whitestar. Do we really need four seasons? Wouldn’t you rather go without winter, and the cold and hunger it brings?” Whitestar looked calmly at the warriors beside her. “Star Unit gave us winter to let the earth recover and prepare for spring. This forest, and the uplands, have supported four Units for generations. It is not up to us to challenge Star Unit.”

Spottedfur, the Water Unit 2nd in Command, spoke up. “Why should we go hungry for the sake of a Unit that can’t even defend its territory?” she snarled. “Whitestar is right! Gale Unit must return!” Windplume snarled back, drawing himself up so that he towered above the dogs around him. Whitestar spoke again. “Streamstar,” she whined, turning to the Water Unit leader, “Water Unit’s hunting grounds are known for their richness. You have the river and all the fish it contains. Why do you need extra prey?” Streamstar looked away and didn’t answer.

Bearfang noticed how Water Unit murmured anxiously among themselves. He wondered why Whitestar’s question had ruffled their fur. “And Blackpelt,” Whitestar went on, “it was Brokenstar who drove Gale Unit from their home.” The broad-shouldered female paused. “That is why Forest Unit helped you to chase him out.” Bearfang narrowed his eyes. He knew that Whitestar was gently reminding Blackpelt of the debt he owed to Forest Unit. The Night Unit leader half-closed his eyes. After a silence that felt like an age, Blackpelt opened his eyes wide and growled, “Very well, Whitestar. We will allow Gale Unit to return.”

Bearfang saw Streamstar turn his head away in anger, his eyes black slits. Whitestar nodded. “Two of us have agreed, Streamstar,” she whined. “Gale Unit must be found and brought home. Until then, no Unit should hunt in their territory.” The Gathering began to break up as the dogs prepared to travel back to their camps. Bearfang stayed where he was for a moment, watching the leaders on the Great Rock. Whitestar touched noses with Streamstar and jumped down to the forest floor. On the rock, Streamstar turned to Blackpelt.

There was something about the look that passed between them that made Bearfang’s fur prickle. Could it be that Whitestar did not really have Blackpelt’s support after all? Bearfang looked quickly around. He could tell from the anger in Windplume’s eyes that Forest Unit’s 3rd in Command had not missed this exchange either. For once, Bearfang shared Windplume’s concern. This was a shift in Unit alliances he had not expected. After the risk Forest Unit had taken by helping Night Unit to drive out Brokenstar, how could they side with Water Unit now?

 

[Latias_tamer_3]

Hmm, It's like reading a rewrite of the book. Pretty good. *smiles*

Excellent, but the only thing I had was that you said one of the dogs unsheathed their claws.

Dogs can't sheathe their claws, they don't have the ability to do that.

 

[Psychic Umbreon]

That may be, but my dogs have cat-like abilities. So, yeah, you could say that they're different. Here's Chapter 3.

Whitestar led the way swiftly back to camp. The noise of their return awoke the dogs that had remained behind. As the group streamed through the gorse entrance, sleepy figures began emerging from the dens. “What’s the news?” called Cornflower, an elderly white female with a brown patch on her right eye. “Was Night Unit there?” asked Sandstorm. “Yes, they were,” Whitestar replied gravely. She strode past Sandstorm and leaped up onto Highrock. There was no need for her customary call for a Unit meeting (which is “Let all those dogs old enough to catch their own prey join here for a Unit meeting) – the dogs were already gathering below the rock.

Battlewing and Windplume jumped up beside her. “There was much tension between the Units tonight,” Whitestar began. “And I became aware of a possible new allegiance between Streamstar and Blackpelt.” Greystripe squeezed into the small space next to Bearfang and Sandyfur. “What are they talking about?” he asked. “I thought Blackpelt agreed with Whitestar.” “Blackpelt?” croaked Constance’s ancient voice from the back of the crowd. “He has been named as Night Unit’s new leader,” Whitestar explained. “But his name – hasn’t he been accepted by Star Unit yet?” asked Constance.

“He plans to travel to the Moonstone tomorrow night,” Battlewing told her. “No leader can speak for their Unit at a Gathering without receiving Star Unit’s approval first,” muttered Constance, loudly enough for all of the dogs to hear her. “He has the support of Night Unit, Constance,” answered Whitestar, nodding at the old female. “We can’t ignore what he said tonight.” Constance gave a disgruntled bark, and Whitestar lifted her head to address the whole Unit. “At the Gathering, I suggested we find Gale Unit and bring them home. But Streamstar and Blackpelt don’t want them to return.”

“They’re hardly likely to join forces, though, are they?” called Greystripe. “They almost had a battle over hunting rights in the river.” Bearfang turned to his friend. “Didn’t you see the looks they were swapping by the end of the meeting? They’re both desperate to get their paws on Gale Unit’s territory.” “But why?” asked Lunarpaw, who was sitting beside her mentor, Shadowhide. Shadowhide answered her. “I suspect Night Unit is not as weak as we thought they would be. And Blackpelt seems to have more ambition than any dog expected.”

“But why does Water Unit want to hunt in Gale Unit’s grounds? They’ve always grown fat on the fish from their precious river!” snarled Sandstorm. “The uplands are a long way to go for a few windblown rabbits!” The once beautiful female, Constance, spoke up in a voice cracked with age. “At the Gathering, some of the Water Unit elders spoke of Twolegs taking over part of their river.” “That’s right,” added Pergamond. “They say Twolegs have been living in shelters beside the river, disturbing the fish. The Water Unit dogs have had to hide in the bushes and watch them with empty stomachs!”

Whitestar looked thoughtful. “For now, we must be careful to do nothing that may bring Night Unit and Water Unit closer together. Go and rest now. Rustytail and Drypaw, you will take the dawn patrol.” A cold breeze rattled the dying leaves in the trees overhead. The dogs, still murmuring amongst themselves, went to their dens. For the second night in a row, Bearfang dreamed. He was standing in the dark. The roar and the stench of a Thunderpath was very close by. Bearfang felt himself buffeted and blinded by the monsters that roared up and down with glaring eyes.

Suddenly, through the din, Bearfang heard the pitiful cry of a young dog. The desperate wail sliced through the thundering of the monsters. Bearfang awoke with a start. For a moment he thought that the cry had woken him. But the only noise was the muffled snores of the warriors sleeping beside him. A growl came from somewhere near the middle of the den. It sounded like Windplume. Bearfang felt too unsettled to go back to sleep, so he crept silently out of the den. It was dark outside, and the stars dotting the black sky told him dawn was still far off.

With the wail of the young dog echoing in his mind, Bearfang padded over to the nursery, his ears pricked. He could hear paw-steps beyond the camp wall. He sniffed the air. It was just Sandstorm and Shadowhide. Bearfang picked up their scents as they guarded Forest Unit’s territory. The calm of the sleeping camp soothed Bearfang. Every dog must have nightmares about the Thunderpath, he told himself. He crept back into the den and circled comfortably back into his nest. Greystripe whined briefly in his sleep as Bearfang settled beside him and closed his eyes.
*******************
Greystripe’s nose woke him, prodding his side. “Leave me alone,” Bearfang grumbled. “Wake up!” Greystripe growled. “Why? We’re not on patrol!” Bearfang complained. “Whitestar wants to see us in her den, now.” Fuzzy-headed, Bearfang scrambled to his paws and followed Greystripe and Sandyfur out of the den. The sun was beginning to turn the sky pink, and there was frost on the trees around the camp. The three dogs bounded across the clearing to Whitestar’s den and announced their arrival with soft whines.

“Enter!” It was Windplume’s voice that answered from behind the draped lichen. Alarm swept through Bearfang as he remembered his conversation with Whitestar on the way to the Gathering. Had she told Windplume about his accusations? Greystripe and Sandyfur pushed their way into Whitestar’s den. Bearfang followed them uneasily. Whitestar was sitting in her nest, her head up and her eyes bright. Windplume stood in the middle of the smooth sandstone floor. Bearfang tried to read his expression, but the great warrior’s eyes were as cold and steady as always. Whitestar began at once. “Bearfang, Sandyfur, Greystripe – I have an important mission for you.”

“A mission?” Bearfang echoed. Relief and excitement swept away his anxiety. “I want you to find Gale Unit and bring them back to their territory,” announced Whitestar. “Before you get too excited, bear in mind this could be very dangerous,” Windplume growled. “We don’t know where Gale Unit has gone, so you will have to follow what is left of their scent – probably into hostile territory.” “But you’ve been through Gale Unit territory, when you traveled with me to the Moonstone,” Whitestar pointed out. “Their scent will be familiar, as will the Twoleg territory beyond the uplands.”

“Will it just be us three?” asked Bearfang. “Our other warriors are needed here,” growled Windplume. “Winter is coming, and we need to gather as much fresh-kill as possible. Many prey-poor months lie ahead.” Whitestar nodded. “Windplume will help you prepare for the journey.” Bearfang’s paws prickled with unease. Whitestar had as much faith in Windplume as ever. Why was Bearfang the only dog in Forest Unit who didn’t trust Windplume? “You must leave as soon as possible,” Whitestar continued. “Good luck.”

“We’ll find them,” Greystripe promised. Dragging his thoughts back to the journey ahead, Bearfang nodded. Windplume followed them out of Whitestar’s den. “Do you remember how to get to Gale Unit territory?” “Oh, yes, Windplume, we were there only…” Bearfang interrupted Greystripe’s eager reply. “Only a few months ago,” he growled quickly. He flashed a warning glare at his friend. Greystripe had almost given away their journey several nights earlier with Ravenpaw. Windplume hesitated. Bearfang held his breath. Had he noticed Greystripe’s mistake?

“And can you recall Gale Unit’s scent?” the 3rd in Command growled. Bearfang sent silent thanks to Star Unit. The young warriors nodded, and Bearfang began to picture himself charging through the prickly gorse of the uplands in search of the lost Unit. “You will need herbs for strength and to keep your hunger away. Fetch them from Jadepelt before you leave.” Windplume paused. “And don’t forget that Blackpelt is planning to travel to the Moonstone tonight. Keep well out of his way.” “Yes, Windplume,” replied Bearfang. “He’ll never know we’re out there,” Sandyfur assured him. “As I would expect,” growled Windplume. “Now, go!”

Without another word, he turned and bounded away. “He might have wished us good luck,” Sandyfur complained. “He probably thinks we don’t need it,” joked Bearfang as they crossed the clearing towards Jadepelt’s den. But at the same time, he reflected, Windplume seemed to be treating them with as much respect as he would any warrior – was it possible that he wasn’t the traitor that Ravenpaw thought? It was still cold, despite the rising sun, but none of them shivered – Bearfang could feel his fur beginning to thicken as the days grew shorter.

Jadepelt’s den lay at the end of a tunnel under ferns. A large split rock stood in a corner of a small shaded glade. Spottedleaf had lived here before Jadepelt. The memory of the young and gentle “tortoiseshell” coloured Healer tugged at Bearfang’s heart. Spottedleaf had been killed by a Night Unit warrior. He missed her desperately. “Jadepelt!” Greystripe called. “We’ve come for traveling herbs!” The three dogs heard a hoarse growl from the shadow in the centre of the rock, and Jadepelt squeezed out of the crack. “Where are you going?” she asked.

“We’ve got to find Gale Unit and bring them home,” Bearfang and Sandyfur said in unison, unable to hide the pride in their voices. “Your first warrior mission!” rasped Jadepelt. “Congratulations! I’ll fetch the herbs you will need.” She returned a few moments later carrying a small bundle of dried leaves in her mouth. “Enjoy!” she barked, laying them on the ground. Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe chewed obediently on the unappetizing leaves. “Yuck!” growled Greystripe. “Just as bad as last time.” Sandyfur agreed. Bearfang nodded, screwing up his face. Spottedleaf had given them the same herbs when they’d journeyed with Whitestar to the Moonstone.

Greystripe swallowed the last mouthful and nudged Bearfang and Sandyfur’s shoulders with his nose. “Come on, slow slugs! Let’s get going! Bye!” he called to Jadepelt over his shoulder, as he sprinted out of the glade. “Wait for us,” growled Bearfang and Sandyfur, chasing after their friend. “Good-bye! Good luck, youngsters!” Jadepelt growled after them. As they raced through the tunnel, Bearfang heard the ferns rustling in the morning breeze. They seemed to be whispering, “Good luck! Travel safely!”

 

[Latias_tamer_3]

All good, and I think I can start identifying some characters like-

Bearfang- Fireheart

Greystripe- Greystripe

Well, that's it so far I guess. Kepp up da good work!

 

[Psychic Umbreon]

Thanks Latias tamer 3... here's Chapter 4.

Chapter 4
As they headed out of the camp, the three young warriors nearly crashed into Sandstorm, who was leading Bristlepaw and Shadowhide into the forest for the dawn patrol. “Sorry!” panted Bearfang. He stopped, and Greystripe and Sandyfur skidded to a halt beside him. Shadowhide dipped his head. “I hear you three are going on a mission,” he growled. “Yes,” Bearfang replied. “Then may you have Star Unit’s protection,” growled Shadowhide gravely. “What for?” Bristlepaw sneered. “You off to catch voles?” Sandstorm, a lean golden furred female, turned and whispered something into Bristlepaw’s ear. Her expression changed and the contempt in her green eyes switched to guarded curiosity.

The patrol stepped aside to let Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe pass. The trio raced on and scrambled up the side of the ravine. Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe shared few words as they followed the route through the forest to Fourtrees, saving their breath for the long journey ahead. They paused at the top of the steep slope on the far side of the oak-shaded clearing, their sides heaving. “Is it always windy up here?” grumbled Greystripe, fluffing out his thick fur against the blast of cold air that swept across the uplands. “I suppose there aren’t any trees to block it,” Bearfang pointed out, screwing up his eyes. This was Gale Unit’s territory.

As Bearfang sniffed the air, he detected a scent that all of his senses told him should not be there. “Do you smell Water Unit warriors?” he murmured uneasily. Sandyfur lifted her nose. “No. Do you think there might be some here?” “Maybe. They might want to make the most of Gale Unit’s absence, especially since they know Gale Unit will be back soon,” Bearfang warned. “Well, I can’t smell anything now,” whispered Sandyfur. The three friends padded watchfully along a frozen turf trail sheltered by heather. A fresh scent stopped Bearfang in his tracks. “Can you smell that?” he growled to Greystripe. “Yes!” whispered Greystripe, flattening himself against the ground. “Water Unit!”

Bearfang and Sandyfur dropped into a crouch, keeping their ears below the heather. Beside them, Greystripe lifted his dark head to peer over the bushes. “I can see them,” he murmured. “They’re hunting.” Bearfang stretched up cautiously to look. Four Water Unit warriors were chasing a rabbit through a patch of gorse. Bearfang recognized Blackclaw from the Gathering. The smoky-black warrior pounced; his claws unsheathed, but sat up again with nothing to show for the chase. The rabbit must have made it to the safety of her warren. Bearfang and Greystripe dropped down again and pressed their bellies against the cold turf.

“They’re not good rabbit hunters,” Greystripe growled scornfully. “I guess Water Unit is more used to catching fish,” Bearfang whispered back. His nose twitched as he smelled the scent of a terrified rabbit coming nearer. With a pang of dread, Bearfang heard the paw-steps of the Water Unit warriors fast approaching after it. “They’re coming this way! We’ll have to hide!” Sandyfur whined urgently. “Follow me,” whispered Greystripe. “I smell badgers this way.” “Badgers?” Bearfang echoed. “Is that safe?” “Don’t worry. The scent is strong but stale,” Greystripe reassured him. “There must be an old set near here.”

Bearfang sniffed. His scent glands picked up a strong, almost fox-like scent. “Are you sure it’s abandoned?” “We’ll know soon enough. Come on; we’ve got to get out of here,” replied Greystripe. He led the way quickly through the low bushes. The rustle of heather told Bearfang the Water Unit warriors were closing in. “Here!” Greystripe shouldered aside a tuft of heather to reveal a sandy hole in the ground. “Get inside! The badger’s scent will disguise ours. We can wait until they’re gone.” Bearfang and Sandyfur slipped speedily into the dark hole, and Greystripe followed them. The stench of badger was overpowering.

Paw-steps thudded on the ground overhead. The three friends held their breath as the steps halted and one of the Water Unit warriors howled, “Badger set!” From the rasping growl, Bearfang knew it was Blackclaw. A second voice answered: “Is it abandoned? The rabbit may be hiding inside.” Bearfang felt Greystripe’s fur bristling beside him in the dark. He unsheathed his claws and stared at the entrance to the hole, ready to fight if the warriors came inside. “Wait, the scent leads this way,” growled Blackclaw.

There was a scrabble of paws overhead as the Water Unit warriors charged away. Greystripe slowly let out his breath. “Do you think they’re gone?” “Perhaps we should wait a bit longer, and make sure none of them stayed behind,” Bearfang suggested. No more noises came from outside. Bearfang nudged Sandyfur and Greystripe. “Come on,” he growled. Sandyfur and Greystripe followed Bearfang cautiously out into the daylight. There was no sign of the Water Unit patrol. The fresh breeze cleared Bearfang’s scent glands of the badger stench. “We should look for the Gale Unit camp,” he growled to Greystripe and Sandyfur. “It’ll be the best place to pick up their scent.”

“Okay,” answered Greystripe and Sandyfur in unison. They moved slowly through the heather, keeping their mouths slightly open to pick up the scent of any more Water Unit warriors. They stopped at the foot of a large flat rock that sloped up steeply, past the tops of the gorse bushes. “I’ll climb up and have a look around,” offered Greystripe. “My fur will blend better with the stone.” “Okay,” Bearfang agreed. “But keep your head down.” Bearfang and Sandyfur watched their friend creep up the rock. Greystripe crouched at the top and gazed around the plateau, then skidded back down to Bearfang and Sandyfur.

“There’s a hollow over there, I think,” Greystripe puffed, signaling with his tail. “I can see a gap in the heather.” “Let’s check it out,” growled Sandyfur. “It could be the camp.” “That’s what I thought,” Greystripe nodded. “It’s probably the only place up here that’s sheltered from the wind.” As they neared the hollow, Bearfang raced past Greystripe and gazed over the edge. It looked as if a Star Unit warrior had reached down from the sky, scooped a pawful of peat from the plateau, and replaced it with a thick tangle of gorse that grew almost to the level of the ground on either side.

Bearfang sniffed. He could smell many scents, all Gale Unit, old and young, male and female, and, in the background, the faint odor of fresh-kill that had long since become carrion. This had to be the abandoned camp. Bearfang bounded down the slope and plunged into the bushes. The gorse tugged at his fur and scratched his nose, making his eyes water. He could hear Greystripe and Sandyfur behind him, cursing as thorns snagged their ears. They pushed through into a sheltered clearing. The sandy ground had been trodden hard by generations of paws. At one end of the clearing stood a rock, worn smooth by many wind-blown months.

“This is their camp, all right,” Bearfang murmured. “I can’t believe Brokenstar managed to drive Gale Unit out of such a well-protected place!” whined Greystripe, rubbing his sore nose with one paw. “It looks like they put up a good fight,” Sandyfur pointed out, realizing with a jolt how badly ravaged the camp was. Clumps of fur littered the ground, and dried blood stained the sand. Mossy nests had been dragged out of dens and ripped apart. And everywhere, stale Night Unit scents mingled with the smell of terrified Gale Unit dogs. Bearfang shuddered. “Let’s find the scent trail out of here,” he growled. He began to sniff the air carefully and moved forward, following the strongest scent.

Greystripe and Sandyfur padded after him to a narrow gap in the gorse. “Gale Unit dogs must be even smaller than I remember!” grumbled Greystripe as he squeezed through after Sandyfur and Bearfang. Bearfang glanced at his friend, amused for a moment. The scent trail was quite clear now – definitely Gale Unit, but mixed and overpowering, as if made by many frightened dogs. Bearfang looked down. Drops of dried blood dotted the ground. “We’re heading the right way,” he growled darkly. Two months of rain and wind had failed to wash away the signs of suffering. Bearfang could clearly picture the defeated and injured Unit fleeing from their home. With a surge of anger, he bounded after Sandyfur and Greystripe.

The trail led them to the far edge of the uplands, where they stopped to catch their breath. In front of them the ground sloped away to the Twoleg farmland. Far in the distance, where the sun was beginning to set, loomed the towering shapes of Highstones. “I wonder if Blackpelt is there yet,” Bearfang murmured. In a tunnel below Highstones lay the sacred Moonstone, where the leaders of each Unit shared dreams with Star Unit. “Well, we don’t want to find him down there!” Greystripe flicked his tail at the wide expanse of Twoleg land. “It’ll be hard enough dodging Twolegs, rats and cats, without meeting the new Night Unit leader as well!”

Bearfang and Sandyfur nodded. They thought back to their last journey across this land, with Whitestar and Windplume. They had almost been killed by an attack of rats, and only the arrival of Barley, the loner, had saved them. Even so, Whitestar had lost her seventh life; the memory of it stung Bearfang and Sandyfur like a wood ant. “Do you think we’ll find any trace of Ravenpaw down there?” Greystripe growled, turning his face toward Bearfang and Sandyfur. “I hope so,” Bearfang replied solemnly. The last they’d seen of Ravenpaw had been the white tip of his tail disappearing into the storm on the uplands. Had the Forest Unit apprentice made it safely to Barley’s territory?

The three warriors started down the slope, carefully sniffing each tussock of grass to make sure they stayed on the Gale Unit trail. “It doesn’t look as if they were heading for Highstones,” Greystripe remarked. The trail took them sideways into a wide grassy field. They skirted the edge, staying near the hedgerow as Gale Unit had done. The scent led them out of the field and onto a Twoleg path through a small copse of trees. “Look!” Sandyfur growled. Sun-bleached piles of prey bones lay scattered in the undergrowth. Mossy bedding had been gathered beneath the thickest patches of brambles. “Gale Unit must have tried to settle here,” Bearfang growled in surprise. “I wonder what made them leave?” asked Greystripe, sniffing the air. “The scent is old.”

Bearfang shrugged and the three dogs followed the trail onward to a thick hedge. With a bit of a struggle, they wriggled through onto a grass verge. Beyond a narrow ditch lay a wide earth track. Greystripe and Sandyfur leaped nimbly over the ditch and onto the hard red track. Bearfang looked around, stiffening as he recognized a hard-edged silhouette in the distance. “Greystripe! Sandyfur! Stop!” he growled. “What’s up, brother?” Sandyfur asked, as she and Greystripe turned to face Bearfang. Bearfang pointed with his right paw. “Look at that Twoleg-place over there! We must be near Barley’s territory!”

Greystripe’s ears twitched nervously. “That’s where those big cats live! But Gale Unit definitely came this way. We’ll have to hurry. We need to get past the Twoleg nest before sunset.” Bearfang remembered Barley telling them that the Twolegs let the cats loose at night, and the sun was already sinking toward the craggy tops of Highstones. He nodded. “Perhaps the cats chased Gale Unit out of the woods.” With an anxious twinge, he thought of Ravenpaw. “Do you think he found Barley?” “Who? Ravenpaw? Why not? We made it this far!” growled Sandyfur. “Don’t underestimate him. Remember the time Windplume sent him to Snakerocks? He came back with an adder!”

Bearfang growled at the memory as Greystripe and Sandyfur leaped across the track and through the hedge on the far side. Bearfang chased after them, quickening his pace to match his sister and their friend step for step. A cat hissed furiously from the Twoleg nest, but its vicious snarling soon faded into the distance. The temperature plunged as the sun set, and frost began to form on the grass. “Should we keep going?” asked Greystripe. “What if the trail takes us to Highstones after all? Blackpelt will definitely be there by now.” Bearfang lifted his nose and sniffed the browning fronds of some ferns. The smell of Gale Unit, sour with fear, prickled at him. “We’d better keep going,” he growled. “We’ll stop when we have to.”

The cold breeze carried another odor to Bearfang’s nose – there was a Thunderpath nearby. Greystripe and Sandyfur screwed up their faces. They’d smelled it too. The warriors exchanged a look of dismay, but pushed on. The stench grew stronger and stronger until they could hear the roar of Thunderpath monsters in the distance. By the time they reached the hedge that ran alongside the wide grey path, it was hard to make out the Gale Unit trail at all. Greystripe and Sandyfur stopped and looked around, uncertainty showing in their eyes. But Bearfang could just make out the fear-scent. He crept through the shadows beside the hedge until he reached a place where the hedge was less thick.

“They sheltered here,” Bearfang whined, imagining the terrified Gale Unit dogs staring through the hedge at the Thunderpath. “This was probably the first time most of them had seen the Thunderpath,” Greystripe remarked as he and Sandyfur joined Bearfang by the hedge. Bearfang and Sandyfur looked at their friend in surprise. They had never met a Gale Unit dog – they had been driven out of their territory almost as soon as the brother and sister team had become apprentices. “Didn’t they patrol their borders?” Sandyfur asked, puzzled. “You’ve seen their territory – it’s pretty wild and barren, and the prey’s not easy to catch. I guess they never thought any of the other Units would bother hunting there. After all, Water Unit has their river, and, in a good year, our forests are filled with prey, so no dog needs their skinny rabbits.”

A monster roared past on the other side of the hedge, its night eyes glaring. Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe flinched as the wind buffeted their fur even through the wall of leaves. When the noise had faded away, they sat up cautiously and sniffed around the roots of the hedge. “The trail seems to lead under here,” Bearfang squeezed onto the grass verge that lay along the Thunderpath. Greystripe and Sandyfur scrabbled through after him.

But on the other side of the hedge, the scent trail stopped abruptly. “They must have either doubled back or crossed the Thunderpath,” Bearfang whined. “You two look around here, and I’ll check out the other side.” He fought to keep his voice calm, but exhaustion was making him desperate. Surely they couldn’t have lost the trail now, after coming so far?

 

[Latias_tamer_3]

*stares intently*

Big cats?

Lol, the only way a dog would be afraid of a cat is if it's Cougar sized.

Besides the fact, good as usual with no spelling errors that I could spot. (I don't check grammar)

 

[Psychic Umbreon]

Thanks Latias tamer 3... btw, I've noticed that you're the only one answering my posts. Another thing... the wildcats are the size of cheetahs... here's Chapter 5.

Chapter 5
Bearfang waited until the only sound he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears. Then he padded to the edge of the Thunderpath. It stretched ahead of him, wide and foul-smelling, but silent. Bearfang darted out. The ground beneath his paws felt cold and smooth. He didn’t stop until he reached the grass on the other side. The air here was tainted by the acrid smell of the Thunderpath and its monsters, so Bearfang headed toward the hedge. Still, there was no trace of the Gale Unit dogs. His heart sank. Suddenly a monster tore past, making Bearfang leap into the air with terror. He scrambled underneath the hedge and crouched, trembling, frantically wondering what to do next.

Then he smelled it: the faintest trace carried on the wind that the monster had stirred up. Gale Unit had been here! Bearfang called as loudly as he could to Sandyfur and Greystripe. There was a pause, then the sound of paws pounding across the Thunderpath to join him. “Have you found it?” puffed Sandyfur and Greystripe in unison. “Not sure. I got a whiff, but I can’t pinpoint it.” Bearfang pushed his way through the hedge, Greystripe and Sandyfur right behind him. He lifted his nose toward the open field ahead of them. “Have you any idea what’s over there?” “No,” replied Greystripe. “I shouldn’t think any Unit dog has ever been this far before.” Sandyfur added.

“Except Gale Unit,” muttered Bearfang darkly. Away from the confusing fumes of the Thunderpath, the trail was suddenly clear. Gale Unit had definitely come this way. The three dogs struck out through the long grass, straight across the field. “Bearfang!” Greystripe sounded alarmed. “What is it?” “Look!” Bearfang stopped and lifted his head. He saw a Thunderpath ahead of them arcing high into the air on massive stone legs, illuminated by the eyes of the monsters that moved along it. Greystripe nodded toward a tall thistle. “And smell this!” Bearfang inhaled the scent. It was a fresh Gale Unit marker! “They must have settled somewhere near here!” Greystripe murmured in disbelief.

A pang of excitement twisted in Bearfang’s stomach. The three dogs looked silently at each other for a moment. Then, without a word, they moved on toward the stinking Thunderpaths. Sandyfur spoke at last. “Why would Gale Unit come to a place like this?” “I guess not even Brokenstar would want to follow them here,” Bearfang answered grimly. He stopped. A thought was nagging at him. Greystripe and Sandyfur paused beside him. “What is it?” Greystripe asked. “If Gale Unit is hiding so near the Thunderpaths,” Bearfang whined slowly, “they must be fairly desperate not to be found. They’re more likely to trust us if we arrive in daylight than if we creep up on them in darkness.”

“Does that mean we can rest?” Sandyfur and Greystripe said in unison, sitting down heavily. “Just until it is daylight,” whined Bearfang. “We’ll find somewhere to hide and see if we can get some sleep. Are you two hungry?” Greystripe and Sandyfur shook their heads. “Me neither,” Bearfang agreed. “I don’t know if it’s these herbs or because the stench from the Thunderpath is making me feel sick.” “Where shall we sleep?” Greystripe looked around. Bearfang had already noticed a dark shadow in the ground up ahead. “What’s that?” “A burrow?” Greystripe sounded puzzled. “It’s too big for a rabbit. Surely there can’t be a badger set here!” Sandyfur added. “Let’s take a look,” Bearfang suggested.

The hole was larger than a badger set, smooth and lined with stone. Bearfang sniffed it, then put his front paws on its rim and peered cautiously inside. A stone tunnel sloped away, down into the ground. “I can feel air flowing through it,” he growled, his voice echoing away into the shadows. “It must come up somewhere over there.” He ducked out and pointed his nose toward the tangle of Thunderpaths. “Is it empty?” Greystripe asked. “Smells like it.” “Come on then.” Sandyfur led the way into the tunnel. After a few fox lengths, the slope leveled out. Bearfang halted and sniffed the damp air. He could smell nothing but the fumes of the Thunderpath. A roaring noise rumbled overhead. Bearfang’s paws trembled as the stone floor vibrated. Was the Thunderpath above them?

He fluffed out his coat against the relentless draft and felt Greystripe’s fur brush against him – his friend was circling, preparing to settle down to sleep. Bearfang and Sandyfur crouched down and huddled beside their friend. They closed their eyes and thought of the gentle forest breezes and the rustling of the leaves. Exhaustion fought briefly with a pang of longing to be at home in his den, before he gave in to the blackness that swam into his mind. When Bearfang opened his eyes again, grey light was glowing at the end of the tunnel. Dawn must be near. Bearfang’s bones ached from the cold hard ground. He nudged Sandyfur and Greystripe, who grunted. “Morning already?”

“Almost,” Bearfang answered, getting to his paws. Greystripe and Sandyfur stretched and stood up too. “I think we should head that way,” Bearfang growled, craning his neck away from the light. “I think this tunnel leads right under a Thunderpath. It might take us nearer to the…” His voice trailed off; he had no words to describe the tangle of Thunderpaths they had seen last night. Beside him, Greystripe and Sandyfur nodded, and together they began to pad wordlessly into the darkness. Before long Bearfang spotted light ahead of them. They quickened their pace until they were racing up a short, steep slope that led them into a world filled with grey dawn light.

They had come up near the edge of a patch of barren, dirty grass. Thunderpaths enclosed it on two sides, and another arched overhead. A fire burned in the middle of the grass. A few Twolegs lay around it. One of them stretched and rolled over, and another grunted angrily in its sleep, but the noise and stench from the Thunderpaths didn’t seem to wake them. Bearfang watched them warily, and then froze as something caught his eye: dark outlines that flitted back and forth in front of the flames. Dogs! Could it be Gale Unit? Bearfang looked at the fire and the dogs, and his mind flooded with the memory of his dream – the noise of the Thunderpath, the sight of the flames and the dogs, and Spottedleaf’s voice murmuring, “Fire will save the Unit.”

A surge of emotion made Bearfang’s legs feel weak. Did this mean that Forest Unit’s fate with bound up with the fate of Gale Unit? “Bearfang? Bearfang!” Greystripe’s voice jolted Bearfang back to reality. He breathed deeply to calm himself. “We must find Galestar and speak with him,” he whined. “Then you think it is Gale Unit?” asked Greystripe. “You smelled their marker – who else could it be?” Bearfang replied. Greystripe looked at him, his eyes shining with triumph. “We’ve found them!” Bearfang nodded. He didn’t point out that finding Gale Unit was only half their mission. They still had to convince them it was safe to return home. Greystripe braced himself, ready to leap forward. “Let’s go!”

“Hang on,” Bearfang warned. “We don’t want to startle them.” Just then, one of the Twolegs sat up with a jolt and began shouting at the ragged dogs around the fire. The noise roused the other Twolegs, who joined in with rough, angry voices. The Gale Unit dogs scattered. All caution forgotten, Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe raced after them. Bearfang could feel his fur prickle with fear as he, his sister and their best friend ran straight toward the fire and the Twolegs. Every instinct told him to keep away, but he dared not lose sight of the fleeing Gale Unit dogs. One of the Twolegs staggered to its feet, looming up in front of him. Bearfang skidded, sending up a spray of dust. Something exploded beside him, pelting him with hard-edged splinters, but nothing pierced his thick coat.

He glanced backward, checking for Greystripe and Sandyfur. He was relieved to see his sister and their best friend right behind him, their eyes wide with alarm and their fur standing on end. They charged into the safety of the shadows beneath the soaring Thunderpath. Ahead, Bearfang watched the Gale Unit dogs stop close to one of the Thunderpath’s great stone legs. And then, one by one, the dogs disappeared into the ground. “Where did they go?” growled Sandyfur in amazement. “Another tunnel?” Bearfang suggested. “Come on, let’s find out.” Cautiously, the three friends approached the spot where the Gale Unit dogs had vanished. As they neared, they saw a hole in the earth. Like their resting place on the previous night, the entrance was round and lined with stone, sloping away into utter blackness.

Bearfang led the way, all his sense alert for a Gale Unit patrol. The floor beneath his paws felt wet and slimy, and the sound of trickling water echoed around them. As the tunnel leveled out, Bearfang pricked his ears and opened his mouth. The damp air smelled rank and bitter – worse than the tunnel they had slept in. Here the Thunderpath fumes mingled with the fear-scent of Gale Unit dogs. It was too dark to see anything, but after a few paces Bearfang’s whiskers sensed a turning in the tunnel. Bearfang flicked his tail, touching Greystripe and Sandyfur lightly with its tip. He couldn’t see his sister and their best friend in the blackness, but Greystripe and Sandyfur must have felt the signal, because they stopped beside Bearfang and together they peered around the corner.

Ahead of them, the tunnel was lit by a narrow hole in the ceiling that led to the wasteland above. Bearfang could see many dogs huddled together in the grey light – warriors and elders, females and pups, all pitifully thin. A cold breeze blew relentlessly through the hole in the roof, stirring the thin fur on the skinny bodies. Bearfang shuddered, for the breeze carried to him the stench of sickness and carrion. Suddenly the tunnel shook as a monster roared overhead. Bearfang, Sandyfur and Greystripe, already tense, jumped, but the Gale Unit dogs didn’t react. They simply huddled with half-closed eyes, numb to their surroundings.

The noise died away. Bearfang took a deep breath and stepped around the corner, out into the thin light. A grey Gale Unit dog spun around, his fur standing on end as he howled an alarm to the rest of the Unit. In one smooth movement, the Gale Unit warriors formed a line across the tunnel in front of the females and elders, their hackles raised, snarling fiercely. With a feeling of dread, Bearfang saw the glint of unsheathed claws and thorn-sharp fangs. These half-starved dogs were about to attack.

 

[Latias_tamer_3]

Uhh, FIRE will save the Unit?

*coughs* BEARfang=Fire how does that link up? if I were you, I woulda modified it to BEAR would save the unit or something to that effect. -_-; Now it's just sounding like you're rewriting the story and modifing names.

*time for tough critisim*

 

[Psychic Umbreon]

I've got writers' block at the moment so the rest of the story will be put on hold. However, Latias tamer 3, if you would like to tell other people about my story, so that more than just one person is reading and posting, that would be much appreciated.

 

[Latias_tamer_3]

Uhhh, tell people? 0-o I barely know anybody....

Okay, writers block sux bad. I would suggest that you advertise your fic at the cafe` so other people can know about it. It would be easy to write a cool little commercial or short summary about the fic and post it in the appropriate thread. ^-^