Here's my entry, helloilovecats!

The dog behind her barked, and Fawnpaw just pulled her tail out of its reach, panting heavily.

She couldn't pinpoint how long she'd been running now as she pelted through ShadowClan territory toward WindClan's. Time seemed to bend together as her feet pounded on the ground and her heart beat wildly.

The dog had appeared out of nowhere on her assessment, and she'd decided, in a split second decision, to lead it away from her Clanmate and her camp.

Not that I'll succeed.

She knew, she mused as the dog snapped at her tail, that this was most likely a suicide mission. But she was hoping she'd take the mange-ridden dog with her.

Her paws tore through the muck and kicked up dirt into her pursuer's face as she raced toward the border.

StarClan, save me, she prayed, despite knowing it was nearly impossible.

Still, I have to try. I have to save my Clanmates.

WindClan scent suddenly flooded her nostrils as she broke through the forest to the moor, running full speed toward the opposite side. She snorted to herself, thinking of the times she'd panicked and stopped when she smelled that heather and rabbit scent.

Now WindClan warriors were the least of her worries.

The dog, she was sure, was only a hair behind her now. She wondered briefly if she should've run through ThunderClan territory, before remembering that they had a Thunderpath separating them.

She never would've made it.

A drop of drool suddenly landed on her tail, and Fawnpaw's paws moved even faster, and she pulled away just a bit.

The dog was right at her tail again, and she felt its breath ruffle her tail-fur. Fawnpaw reached deep inside and ran even faster.

She wasn't just running for her Clan now. She was running for her life.

The dog barked angrily as she felt herself pulling away slightly.

Then, suddenly, the panting was getting closer.

She had one clear thought, I'm going to die, before the dog stumbled on something and faltered slightly. She continued running, praying she wouldn't do the same.

The roaring of the water greeted her ears as she approached the gorge. The crashing of the waters of the river crashing down the cliff sounded like music to her ears.

The edge was a foxlength, two foxlengths away...

The dog snapped at her tail, and she leapt.

She'd aimed for the shortest length of the gorge, hoping against hope that the dog couldn't make it but she could. Her front claws just barely snagged the far end as the dog howled, falling headlong into the gorge.

Her front claws were suddenly burning and she looked down. They were beginning to tear out. Blood seeped out, and she desperately tried to claw her way upward.

But then the soil began to give way, and then she was falling, falling to join her defeated opponent in the murky waters below.

I saved my Clan, was her last, proud thought. Hootfeather, I hope you're proud.