Dead Leaves (o)

[Fernpaw]

A crisp, cool breeze swept through the apprentice den, ruffling Fernpaw's soft fur. She lifted her sleepy head, opening her tired, blue eyes. She yawned and stood up. Everyone still seemed to be asleep when she looked around, so she walked outside. The cold night was old, and dawn was slowly creeping across the sky. This was Fernpaw's favorite time of the day, the sunrise. She turned her petite head toward the sun, and watched as the sky turned from dark to a brilliant red color. The pink clouds set off the brightness, and she purred at the beautiful sight. The leaves were turning orange, and falling off the trees in dry, dead waves. One single leaf floated past Fernpaw's face, and she watched it as it hit the ground softly. She loved mornings. what made mornings the best were the birds that tweeted in the tall trees around her den. She loved to hear them sing, the soft notes all combined to make the perfect tone. When the apprentices came with the food for everyone to eat in the morning, she would always choose the blue jay, because that was her favorite bird. It was the prettiest noise, in her mind, and personally she thought it tasted the best. Sometimes she would just sit and watch everyone eat, then wait to see what was left. Fernpaw turned her bright eyes east, back to the rising sun. With every passing minute, it climbed higher and higher in the sky. Soon her friends would be waking up, and she would play with them, or her mentor would come and get her to go hunting and training. Her favorite season to hunt in was the fall, because she could hear all the little footfalls and dead leaves crunching. That made locating prey easier and quicker.
Fernpaw sat down and looked at her small paws. One was white, the other was black. She retracted her claws, then let them dig into the dirt beneath her. A worm crawled by, and she stared at it, not wanting to kill it or threaten it. She didn't like the taste of worms. Her long tail swayed behind her, and she made sure no one could step on it. She looked around her, at her surroundings, noticing that the sky was already turning from pinkish-red to a light blue. Her clan should be waking up soon. She hoped she wouldn't be pounced on from behind, she hated that and it scared the stars out of her. Fern stood up, slowly, and padded over to a small rock that she always played when. She batted at it, then rolled it across the dirt so it went to the other side of the clearing. She ran over and plopped down beside it, pawing at it with her right paw, then flinging it into the brush. Oops, she thought and ran over to peer into the brush. This was a clearing borders, and she wasn't allowed to go any further, but her rock was just past the small bush in front of her, she could see it. Fern stuck her paw through and tried to paw the rock toward her without going out of the boundaries, but it was no good. The rock was too far away. She sat down, frustrated at herself. Her back was toward the clearing, and she was facing the outside world she want allowed to go to without her mentor. How she longed to explore what was out there, and she wanted her rock back. She sighed, and stared yet again at her different colored paws.