The Colors of the World [Xaan]

Shimmerpaw raced across the moor faster than he'd ever run before (probably not, but he liked to think that). The snow was now in scattered piles, giving way to green grasses and even some of the earliest newleaf flowers. Having lived most of his life in darkness and a world of gray during the daylight hours, the tiny patches of red, blue, yellow and green set his heart ablaze. He scampered from one patch to the next, eager to take in the sight and smell of every flower that he possibly could. The day was fairly warm from the biting cold that he had grown accustomed to. And... what was that? A large, fuzzy black and yellow insect was buzzing around some purple flowers. Shimmerpaw approached it carefully, curious to see it closer but didn't want to scare it.

However... the fuzzy insect landed on one of the flowers and... suddenly started beating the crap out of it??? The little creature's legs kicked and flailed every which way to the point that the flower was wobbling from it's efforts. Shimmerpaw's ears pinned back and his tail fluffed. Those flowers just got there... why was the bug trying to kill them already? For once gathering a little bit of courage (it was just a bug after all), Shimmerpaw leaped forward and swatted the bee out of the flower. Clearly dazed, the bee seemed to crawl around in confusion on the ground.

"You want another smack?" He growled, raising a paw, this time with claws unsheathed. "Stay away from the flowers!" It was then that a buzzing sound caught his ear. He turned his head to look... only to see even more bees on all of the other flower patches. His eyes widened. He needed to get his mom! She would help him defend the flowers! "How many of you are there?! Leave our flowers alone!" Now his voice was high with desperation. What the heck was he supposed to do???

Whisperpaw approached, seeming very stressed out. Shimmerpaw was at least grateful for some kind of back up. Was Whisperpaw a better fighter than he was? Probably. He needed help getting all of these bugs away from the flowers anyhow. Then Whisperpaw spoke and Shimmerpaw only stared, confused.

"Feeding the flowers?" He asked incredulously, not entirely sure that he believed the other apprentice. He looked again to be sure. No... the way the bee flailed it's legs and the flower shook... That didn't look like feeding. That had to be violence.

Shimmerpaw, desperate to both make Whisperpaw see sense as well as defend his new colorful world, closed the gap between himself and Whisperpaw. With sheathed claws and lightly tapping paws, he stood up and began to flail his legs like the bee was doing. A brief bombardment of paws on Whisperpaw followed suit with dramatic leg flails to the best of his ability.

"Are you still hungry, Whisperpaw???" A few more dramatic flailing whacks that were harmless, but got his point across, he hoped. "Fawnsong is nuts if that's how he eats!" He finally put his paws back on solid ground. He needed a new plan. Maybe he ought to go get Fawnsong and make him explain this "logic".

"How much could they possibly hurt? They're tiny bugs!" Shimmerpaw fluffed his fur out and ran at another bee. With a mighty smack he sent that one to the ground too. But there was still so many... He needed his mom. Swiftspirit could clear this place out in no time!

Shimmerpaw cocked his head to one side when Whisperpaw explained that flowers at differently... which made sense. He looked at the flower again and noted that it didn't seem hurt despite the wallop the bee just gave it. "...Oh..." He said sheepishly before turning his attention back to Whisperpaw. He didn't get the chance to say anything else before a bee stung his foreleg. Shimmerpaw jerked away from it and spat, only to see that the bee was already in the process of dying. He pulled the stinger out... and the guts... that was now attached to his foreleg. It seemed to trigger some odd response in the rest of the bees.

The buzzing suddenly sounded ominous... At Shimmerpaw's urging to run, Shimmerpaw finally spun and bolted wildly across the Flower Fields. All of his running and leg training had prepared him to get away from things he'd rather not face. "Stay on my tail Whisperpaw!" He called back over his shoulder, pumping his legs with a fury that ate up ground rapidly below him.

At least his retreat seemed to calm the swarm... which was great because ow his leg. He didn't stop until his lungs burned and his legs became wobbly though. Slowly, eventually, he slowed to a stop, his sides heaving with the effort of his breath.

"Okay fine, you're right. They hurt." He looked at the red, swollen lump on his foreleg and wished to Starclan that it would stop throbbing so painfully. He scowled at it and then sighed. "What am I supposed to do about this?"