Apparently I have to write about an apprentice catching his/her first prey as a challenge for a forum. So here you go! :D

Vast blue skies overhead, sunshine lighting up the clouds and washing over the land, making the gentle, lapping waves of the river sparkle white and ice-blue… Songbirds hidden in the greenleaf trees and filling the atmosphere with their cheerful, carefree melodies, while she'd dunk her paw in the water and swiftly scoop up a minnow, streaking by in a flash of silver…

Not rain. That was not how Whitepaw imagined her first hunting trip to be like.

It was mid-greenleaf, and showers were to be expected—

"But not today!" a voice whined from inside the apprentice's den of RiverClan. She peeked her head out, but immediately slunk back in when a shower of droplets splashed down on her silvery-white muzzle.

A large ginger-and-black striped tom stood outside the entrance, the hard rainfall making his pelt slick and sticking to his body, his figure seeming much thinner than it was supposed to be.

"Whitepaw, we're going," the tom ordered, his voice stern and assertive. He swept his ringed tail across the muddy ground. "Every apprentice's first prey is an exciting and new moment."

"Maybe, but…" A young silver-and-white tabby she-cat hesitantly stepped out from the comfortable, dry shelter of the den roof. She gazed up at the falling rain with widened dark emerald orbs, but instantly shut her eyes as some droplets got in. She lowered her head, ears drooping and muttered, "It wasn't supposed to rain, Hawkfang. Not today."

The dark clouds hung heavily in the sky and the few trees on the marshy RiverClan grounds suddenly seemed to loom over Whitepaw's head, the gloomy grey sky, for once, seemed to taunt her.

"I-I guess I won't be going today," Whitepaw mewed, her green eyes downcast. Before her whole pelt would be wet and heavy, she scampered back inside the den, looking at her mentor with pleading eyes.

The large tomcat gingerly padded inside to join his apprentice. He saw that her eyes were focused on the rain outside, and he too felt captivated by the pitter-patter noise.

After a few moments of silence and staring, the ginger-and-black tom spoke up amidst the uncomfortable quietness.

"It's not the rain, is it, Whitepaw?" Hawkfang mewed in a gentle voice, but it held a demanding tone at the same time.

Whitepaw didn't look up at him, but he saw that her emerald eyes widened in surprise. When the young she-cat didn't answer, her mentor continued.

"Is it because of that incident?"

The silvery white tabby's mouth formed a tight, straight line, apparently depicting no emotion, but her eyes held a faraway look. A look of fear, almost. She gave in at last and nodded, ever so slightly, but Hawkfang managed to catch it.

"Yes."

Hawkfang fell silent for a few heartbeats and Whitepaw looked away. But she knew she couldn't run from her fear. It just seemed so easy right now, yet she also knew it would come back to haunt her. How could she be a respected warrior for RiverClan when she couldn't even hunt fish?

Whitepaw sighed. "I used to love the water," she whispered.

"Was it… the ShadowClan attack?" Hawkfang asked cautiously.

Solemnly, Whitepaw managed a small, faint nod.

ShadowClan… They're not my family. Not anymore.

A vision… no, memory… seemed to flash by in front of her eyes, and in shock, she couldn't help but widen those emerald orbs.

She saw narrowed, gleaming eyes, just slits in the pitch-black darkness… She saw claws like eagle talons and fangs like a tiger's glinting in the night… And she felt water. Oppressing, heavy water like a world of burdens pushing her down, down, into the everlasting, dark depths…

"Drown!"

The shrill screech of enemies deafened her ears and a thunderstorm brewed in the once calm night sky. She felt large paws press her down in the water, felt the ice-cold water drench her and fill her ears, sting her skin, and she was falling, limp and short of breath…

"Is it actually the water?" Hawkfang pressed on, his tone hard, instantly snapping Whitepaw out of her thoughts. "Are you afraid of the water, or is it something else?" He swept his tail across the ground and curled in around his paws, sitting up straight, ears pricked up, gaze distant.

She considered this. She knew the answer, but she didn't want to say it. It was true, she did have a fear of water, but was that her biggest worry? Or was it…

"ShadowClan." Whitepaw stared down at her paws, afraid to look at her mentor, but afraid to shut her eyes, in case she'd see those cats that had betrayed her once.

"I thought so."

Hawkfang stood up and padded out the apprentice den, his pelt, just starting to dry, became wet with rain again. He kept his bright amber eyes on the path in front of him, but his voice was directed at his apprentice, still hiding in the den.

"You can't be afraid of water forever, Whitepaw," he growled lowly. "I know you have a ShadowClan past, but as a cat of RiverClan now, you need to brave the water. You will learn to hunt fish and swim."

Whitepaw's ears drooped and she let her tail rest limply beside her. The sky—the fact that she couldn't see it—and the rain, it all threatened her. But Hawkfang only gave a simple statement before padding away to join the other warriors.

"If the rain still bothers you, we'll wait until tomorrow."

Tomorrow…

Whitepaw trekked through the wetlands, her paws starting to sink, unadapted to the marshy RiverClan lands. Whenever a paw started to touch the murky water below, she gasped and jumped back.

I won't wait until tomorrow.

A small bird zipped by through the rain. Whitepaw froze, glanced up, then lowered her head and continued walking.

I can't hunt birds for the rest of my life, she shook the thought off. We're RiverClan. I'm RiverClan now.

The storm disturbed the large river which marked RiverClan as who they were. It was ahead, Whitepaw knew it. It was the same river that glistened in greenleaf and froze in leaf-bare, but underneath the icy surface, it kept flowing as it always did and would.

It was the same river she almost died in.

Whitepaw's paws felt heavy as she neared the edge, but she was going to learn. It wasn't just for Hawkfang.

As she gazed in the murky, stirred-up depths, she could almost see the faces of ShadowClan, snarling at her. But as a droplet melted into the river and rippled the surface, the faces were fading away again.

A large spotted blur of sandy-brown and dull green and golden flashed by.

A trout. And soon, many more swam past.

She remembered seeing other RiverClan apprentices and warriors hunt fish. She remembered the poses and tried to imitate them. The young she-cat crouched down low, her tail sweeping back and forth in wait, her green eyes narrowed and focused on the water, her nose just at the river's edge, but backed away enough to not be noticed by the prey.

No sudden movements.

It was as if she could hear Hawkfang's voice guiding her, and she wasn't sure if this was him or her doing alone. Because every time the image of those sharp claws rose up out of the water, she wanted to back away, back away and hide.

"We're RiverClan, Whitepaw. We don't fear the water, we control it."

But instead, she unsheathed her claws and stepped closer, suddenly feeling another tiny bit of confidence building up.

Thank you, Hawkfang.

A large one was approaching. Whitepaw eyed the trout, her gaze following it as it slowly swam near. Her muscles bunched, her paws outstretched, and she forgot about everything. About ShadowClan, about the attack, about her past and what had came back to haunt her for the last moons. She forgot—

—And then she leapt.

The water felt cold at first, but instead of ice-cold fear that gripped her throat and tugged her down, it lifted her up. It was like liquid air under her body that was like droplets of wind that was like the darkest shadows, but she ignored the thousand voices screaming inside her head because she felt truly powerful for once in her life. Paddling, sinking a bit at first, but gradually getting the hang of it, she grabbed ahold the fish's tail, her claws starting to sink into it.

It slipped away.

Her hind paws landed on a large rock and she pushed herself off the surface, speeding by at top speed through the water, just a barely visible silver-and-white blur among the murky depths.

She swiped a paw, finding it hard because of the water pressure, but managed to lock the large trout in a tight grasp. Dark red stained the river and gushed out of the prey's wounds, and Whitepaw sunk her teeth into the animal, dragging it onto shore.

The tabby she-cat panted as she heaved herself onto land too. She shook out her fur and lashed her tail to rid her pelt of the wet droplets that clung to her fur. The last drops of the trout's blood stained the shore and melted back in with the water. A last, weakening thump of its tail it gave, and then it fell limp. Tired, she still held her head up, because she felt proud.

And the water that had lifted her had also blocked her vision, but it was then that Whitepaw realized…

The rain had stopped.

It was dawn.

Many warriors had already woken up and were tending to their duties. Whitepaw stared at the soft glow of the golden and crimson heavens overhead from inside her den. The world seemed so much fresher and newer after a storm.

She searched for a ginger-and-black pelt among the cats, but couldn't find him. Glancing to the warrior's den, Whitepaw figured Hawkfang must still be asleep.

She padded to the back of the apprentice's den, her steps silent, careful not to disturb any of the sleeping cats. A small, slimy creature laid in the shadows of the den's back corner, and Whitepaw grasped it firmly in her jaws, walking out of the shelter of the den.

The amber glow seeped into her fur, making her silvery pelt golden as she padded in silence in the direction of the warrior's den.

She passed the fresh-kill pile and continued walking. Making her way in the warrior's den quietly, she held the trout proudly in her jaws and gave a silent thanks to her mentor. It was his voice back then at the river, she was sure of that now. But it was also herself.

She knew who she was and where her home was. It was RiverClan. She was going to be a RiverClan warrior, and ShadowClan couldn't matter less right now, no matter what her past was.

That was then. This was now.

And silently, she slipped the prey down in front of her mentor's paws and left.

Okay… I'm not sure what I just wrote. XD It does include an apprentice catching her first prey but it also includes a lot of other stuff. So yeah. Review if you want (I'd like it very much if you did, though), and by the way, this is only going to be a one-shot, so no more chappies. Besides, it's kinda the resolution anyway.

'Til next time.

– PikaBolt101

(P.S. Silverscratch, it totals 2011 words)