Winter's Choice

✧Winter's Choice is a long one-shot story written by Mistleheart. It features the characters Winter and her Twolegs, Blaze, Sky, Twinkle, Blue, and a number of RiverClan and ThunderClan warriors. ✧

Winter

Winter shifted uncomfortably her personal den in the old Twoleg nest by a wide quarry, her long whiskers twitching. The silver she-cat's stomach growled pitifully, letting a mournful sound enter her throat. Her housefolk weren't here. Supposedly, they were having a break in the quarry near the house. They had forgotten to leave her food when they left. Both food and water. Winter felt like she could swallow a whole gallon of water and still, her thirst wouldn't be quenched.

It was terrifyingly hot day. The sun blazed in the sky overhead, although Winter could only catch traces of its warm beams through the thick curtains in the den. There was not a single cloud dotting the blue haze. Winter's throat burned and itched. She swallowed as she snuffled around, searching desperately for water. But the den was dark, cardboard boxes were piled everywhere, and no water was inside.

Why did it *have* to be so warm on the days she especially hoped that it would be breezier?

Instead of complaining to herself, which would be no use against her thirst, Winter padded to the den's windows. The thick curtains were blocked the sunlight, so Winter wasn't that hot, but when her nose brushed the glass of the window, she leaped backwards with a yelp of pain. The glass seemed to be scorching. Winter bitterly left the windowsill alone and sat down to fume.

A loud roar interrupted her thoughts. Her housefolk were back! Winter bounded joyfully to the doorway as she heard the thump of her housefolk nearing. As the door creaked open, Winter tried to squeeze out through the slit and reached up to jump on the housefolk that had opened the door. He was short with spiky, light yellow hair that was streaked with pale gray, and he wore striped fur and a thick blue pelt on his legs. Instead of greeting Winter like he almost always did, the housefolk threw Winter backwards by the scruff and slammed the door shut, muttering furiously.

Winter landed on her rump, blinking in shock. The force of the blow had been so hard that she had skidded halfway across the room. Something sharp dug into her flank. Winter squeaked with pain as she sprang away.

"What was that for?" the silver she-cat yowled angrily, her bright holly-green eyes glittering with surprise.

The only response were the housefolk yowling and spitting and each other, apparently arguing like kittens might fight over a toy mouse.

Winter sighed. What had *happened* to her housefolk? They never abandoned her in her personal den, especially if it were dark and looming with frightening figures that were only cardboard boxes. And besides, the housefolk could tell when Winter was thirsty. Her throat was flaring with pain. If it could, then her throat might be screeching and yowling for water.

She had a revolting thought: *What if my housefolk don't care about me anymore?*

No, she tried to convince herself. "That can't be," she muttered. "They don't act like that. That can't be."

As time stretched into long hours and Winter's throat burned harder, she had the feeling that muttering "That can't be" wouldn't help with anything. The horrible thought that her housefolk were abandoning her settled in her stomach. *What will I do? No food, no water...* Thinking about water only fueled Winter's thirst.

She bounded back to the window. It was darker now; maybe the glass wasn't as hot as it had been. She scaled the length of the window, balancing precariously on the windowsill, and used her claws to slash a hole in the black webbing. The silver she-cat glanced back at her personal den.

It was a bad idea. What if her housefolk caught her?

But if they didn't want her anymore, did it matter? They wouldn't care anyway, would they? Or was Winter being to quick to believe that her housefolk didn't care about her anymore?

Her stomach twisted. "I'll come back," she promised silently. *First things first. I need to find some water.*

She knew of a puddle that had come from the storm a few days ago. Winter racked her brain. It was in Blaze's housefolk's backyard. She clawed her way out of the house and slid down to the pavement. The stone bricks were warm and searing underneath her pads, although not as hot as Winter had expected. She looked around. The wooden white fence that bordered the garden between hers and Sky's. She sniffed the air; the hot breeze smelled of withered roses that had once released a wonderful aroma. Winter gagged.

*To be continued*