Dark River

Lionpaw glared at his denmate.

Honeypaw flicked her tail at Mousepaw. “It wasn’t long ago you missed a squirrel,” she reminded him.

Lionpaw’s ears grew hot. He didn’t need Honeypaw to defend him.

“Honeypaw’s right.” Spiderleg nudged Mousepaw’s shoulder with his muzzle. “And your climbing could use some practice.”

Mousepaw flattened his ears. “Well, let’s go practice, then!”

“You’d better not try the Sky Oak!” Honeypaw called out as the two cats headed for the trees. Mousepaw’s tail quivered with annoyance as it disappeared into the undergrowth.

Sandstorm turned to her apprentice. “Come on, Honeypaw, we’ll see if there are any mice around the old beech.”

“Can we come too?” Ashfur looked pointedly at Lionpaw.

“I don’t think we’ll find many birds around here now.”

“Of course.” Sandstorm bounded up the slope out of the hollow and then headed into the trees. Ashfur hurried to catch her up.

“Don’t worry,” Honeypaw whispered, falling in beside Lionpaw. “I missed a sparrow yesterday.”

Lionpaw snorted and hurried ahead of her, bristling.

The ground beneath the beech was littered with empty husks. This was a great place for hunting mice attracted by the ready supply of beechnuts. Lionpaw pushed ahead of Honeypaw into the ferns that ringed the open ground beneath the tree. Ashfur and Sandstorm were waiting for them, sat beneath the arching fronds.

“Let’s hope we manage to catch something here,” Ashfur meowed. “We don’t want the Clan to go hungry.”

“They won’t!” Lionpaw snapped. Why couldn’t Ashfur

give him advice instead of pointing out his mistakes?

“Look!” Honeypaw jerked her head toward the clearing. A mouse was sitting between the snaking roots of the beech, a nut between its forepaws. It was busy nibbling at the shell.

“That’ll be easy to catch.” She blinked encouragingly at Lionpaw. “It doesn’t even know we’re here.”

“Why don’t you catch it, then?” he hissed.

Honeypaw’s eyes clouded. “I thought you might want the chance.”

“I don’t need help!” Lionpaw snapped. Did she think he was a helpless kit?

Honeypaw dropped her gaze and he felt guilty. She had only been trying to help. He turned and peered out of the undergrowth. He’d catch the mouse to show her he was sorry.

But it had gone.

Something else was stirring the leaves only a few tail-lengths away. Lionpaw dropped into a hunting crouch.

Willing away the tiredness that made his limbs feel as heavy as wet wood, he began to creep forward. The leaves moved again and a tiny nose peeked out. Tensing every muscle, Lionpaw prepared to leap.

“Keep your tail down!” Ashfur hissed.

Lionpaw pressed his haunches down harder to the ground.

Then he darted forward.

He wasn’t fast enough. The vole scuttled beneath a root.

Lionpaw glanced at Ashfur, expecting some comment, a word of advice or even disappointment, but his mentor turned away without saying anything.

* * *

Brambleclaw looked up as Lionpaw followed Ashfur into camp. The ThunderClan deputy’s eyes narrowed as Ashfur dropped two mice and a sparrow onto the fresh-kill pile.

Lionpaw had nothing to offer.

“Prey still running?” Brambleclaw padded over to them.

“There’s certainly plenty around,” Ashfur commented.

Lionpaw waited for Ashfur to tell Brambleclaw how useless he had been today. He blinked in surprise when Ashfur meowed, “Lionpaw’s hunting is coming along fine. He just needs to work on his crouch.”

Why didn’t he tell Brambleclaw the truth? Had Ashfur given up on him? Or was he being soft on him because his father was deputy?

Brambleclaw cuffed Lionpaw softly around the ear. “I thought you’d mastered the hunting crouch before you left the nursery.”

Didn’t anybody care? Irritation pricked his paws. He had been floundering for days, but nobody had mentioned it. Why weren’t they taking his training seriously? With all the talk of battle, surely it was more important than ever that he was doing well. He glanced at Brambleclaw, but the ThunderClan deputy was already padding away with a mouse in his jaws.

“You might as well have something to eat too,” Ashfur meowed. “It’s been a long morning.”

“What about training?”

“Rest first.” Ashfur began to head across the clearing.

“We’ll do some battle training later.”

It looked as if Ashfur really had given up on him. Maybe his mentor thought training was a waste of time. Lionpaw felt a flash of indignation, but it died as he stared wearily at the fresh-kill pile. He was too tired to eat. All he wanted was to curl up and sleep. He headed for the apprentice den, ducking beneath the low branch of the bramble bush. With a sigh of relief, he coiled down into his nest and closed his eyes.

“Lionpaw!” Berrypaw’s voice woke him. “Time for battle training!”

Lionpaw struggled awake like a drowning cat fighting its way to the surface. Berrypaw was standing over him, shaking his shoulder with a paw.

“Okay, okay!” Lionpaw mewed. “Put your claws away! I’m awake.” He shook Berrypaw away and heaved himself to his paws. A fog filled his brain, and his body felt as though it was weighted down with boulders. His nap had only made him feel more tired.

“Ashfur and Brambleclaw want us to do some battle training together.”

Lionpaw sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Berrypaw leaned forward. “You normally can’t wait to try and beat me.” His whiskers twitched.

“Are you scared?”

“No!” Of course he wasn’t scared. I just want to sleep!

He stumbled out of the den after Berrypaw and blinked in the afternoon sun. Ashfur and Brambleclaw were already waiting by the camp entrance. They nodded at Lionpaw

and headed out of camp.

Slow down! Lionpaw felt hardly awake as he hurried after Berrypaw and the two warriors. He stumbled through the forest in a daze of tiredness, tripping over brambles and stifling yawn after yawn. He half slid down the slope into the mossy training hollow where Berrypaw was waiting with Ashfur and Brambleclaw. Stretching his claws, Lionpaw padded to join them. He shook himself, hoping to jerk himself awake, but a numbing fog still clouded his mind.

“Let’s get started,” Brambleclaw meowed. “Berrypaw, I want you to pretend you’re defending your territory.” He flicked his tail. “Lionpaw, attack him.”

Berrypaw dropped into a crouch, hackles bristling and tail lashing. His eyes were narrowed to slits and his chin glided back and forth over the ground like a snake’s.

“Come on, Lion kit!” he teased.

Anger flashed in Lionpaw’s pelt. Without thinking he rushed at Berrypaw, his sleepy paws stumbling over the ground. He hurled himself at his denmate, forelegs splayed.

Berrypaw reared up and caught him under the chin, flinging him backward. Before Lionpaw could roll out of the way, Berrypaw sprang on top of him. Lionpaw struggled but the other apprentice’s weight pinned him to the ground.

Berrypaw looked up triumphantly at Brambleclaw. “That was easy!”

As his attention slipped, Lionpaw darted out from underneath him. He butted Berrypaw’s creamy flank with his head, but Berrypaw hardly flinched. Instead, he rounded on