Daylight

Chapter 8

Firepaw wasn't sure what was going on with Runningwind. His best guess? He was tired. The usually overly energetic, and somewhat impatient, warrior seemed to always have something else on his mind, whether it be fresh-kill—or, more recently—sleep. The unkempt tom came into training late, tail dragging, eyes weary.

Despite his sleepiness, however, he was an excellent teacher, concerning hunting at least. He had taught Firepaw tons of hunting moves, which meant that his first solo hunting mission came quickly.

It was a sunny day, warmer than it had been in ages, and Firepaw was assigned hunting near the Owl Tree. Dashing off into the woods—and keenly aware of his mentor leaping through the mostly-barren trees above—he made his way there, lightly avoiding the largest leaf deposits. The large oak loomed up above the ginger apprentice, who suddenly felt very small. Circling around the trunk and looking up into the boughs of the great oak, he could spot several types of birds. Magpies, thrushes, wood pigeons, blackbirds, and a few he wasn't sure even Runningwind would be able to identify, sat in the tree, hopping from branch to branch, chirping and calling out to one another. Squirrels scurried up the trunk, reaching their tiny paws out to twigs that looked like they could barely hold their weight, and making a move to the next limb. Even though it was leaf-fall, it was plentiful.

And so, finding a good paw-hold, he started up. One paw after the other, whiskers quivering at the scents that wafted into his nose. The birds helpfully stayed away, but the squirrels seemed to almost taunt him, daring him to catch them. Oh, I will.

Five tail-lengths off the ground, he sighted his first victim: a wood mouse, much higher than they were usually found. The wind was blowing towards him, swaying the branches slightly, but Firepaw wasn't worried—Runningwind had trained him in the art of climbing.

They had practiced, bark after bark, limb after limb, and had successfully tackled all of the trees ringing the training hollow. They had moved on to the ones near the top of the gorge, near the camp, and had conquered those with ease. The Owl Tree was just the final monster, the largest hare to catch.

Firepaw stepped lightly, claws digging into the rough bark of the tree. The mouse sat up, a berry in its paws—if Cloverpaw was to be believed, a blackberry—and looked to its left and its right, freezing Firepaw in his tracks. It didn't look back, though; its fatal flaw.

Without warning, Firepaw leapt, a beam of sun catching his fur. To anyone watching, it would've looked like a bolt of fire engulfing the mouse. Careful to drop the mouse into a pile of densely-gathered leaves at the bottom of the tree, Firepaw continued on, licking his lips, having tasted a bit of the creature when he'd caught it. Sending a silent prayer up to StarClan as he dragged himself up higher, his emerald eyes darted from one bough to another, trying to decide what he would catch.

A small magpie landed near his ear as he was dragging himself up, around fifteen tail-lengths up from the ground by then. The bird chattered, voice hoarse, but not as hoarse as a crow's. It was clearly a male, by its growing green feathers, but it wasn't mature. Runningwind had very strict rules about these ones: don't attack. They would lead you to others. And so, Firepaw ignored the bird, who hopped away, its incandescent cawing still filling the air, alongside the cacophony of other bird cries.

Hefting himself up onto the branch the magpie had disappeared on, he found a sight worth waiting a million years: birds lined up as if waiting for him to pounce. The first one was a great catch: large, plump, and a wood pigeon. Goldenflower would be pleased—she was with kits and needed to keep up her energy. Tigerclaw wouldn't be too happy, but at least his mate would be fed. After the wood pigeon, a sparrow pecked at a little knot in the wood. Firepaw wasn't sure what it was doing—a lot of the birds had flown away, having been disturbed by the flame-colored tom, but the sparrow was looking for something. Without hesitation, Firepaw leapt, slamming his paws down on the bird and delivering two prayers up to StarClan, not just for the sparrow, but for the wood pigeon, too.