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The Fourth Apprentice WARRIORS After The Sharp-Eyed Jay And The Roaring Lion, Peace Will Come On Dove's Gentle Wing. Trees whispered, branch to branch, above the lifeless forest floor. Mist wreathed their smooth trunks, pale as bone, and swirled through the night-dark forest. Above their branches, the sky yawned, starless and cold. There was no moon to cast shadows, but an eerie light glowed through the trees. Paws thudded on the dead earth. Two warriors reared on their hind legs and launched themselves at each other, their bodies heaving and twisting like ghosts in the gloom. One brown. One black. Wind rattled the trees as the brown tom, his broad shoulders heaving, aimed a vicious swipe at his lean opponent. The black tom dodged, not taking his gaze from his rival's paws for a moment, his eyes narrowed in concentration. The brown warrior's strike missed and he landed heavily, too slow in turning to avoid a sharp nip from the black tom. Hissing, he reared again, twisted on one hind paw, and lunged, his forepaws falling like rocks on the black tom's shoulders. The tom collapsed under the weight of the blow. Breath huffed from his mouth as his chest slammed against the ground. The brown warrior raked thorn-sharp claws along his opponent's pelt, and his nose twitched as blood welled in the wound, scarlet and salty. Quick as a snake, the black tom slithered out from his rival's grip and began to swipe rhythmically with his forepaws, swaying one way then the other until the brown warrior flinched back. In that flinch- a single moment of distraction- the black tom sprang forward and sank his teeth deep into the warrior's foreleg.  |
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