The Apprentice's Curse (A Shrouded Path book 1) {COMPLETE}

Chapter 2

 Up ahead, the river gurgled and sang as it flowed and wound through the forest. The last of the leaf-bare snowmelt had kept it full, but not overflowing. Minnowpaw had heard stories from the elders of the river running over and spilling onto the banks, and even rising as far as the camp. Troutleap had told her of times when the river ran so rapidly that it could sweep a full-grown RiverClan warrior off his feet and carry him away like a bit of fresh-kill, especially when newleaf broke and the snow and ice melted.

But leaf-bare had ended mildly, and the river was just slightly swollen, and the sight of the cool, crisp water was enticing to Minnowpaw. She'd only been here to fish before, but still never to swim. That thought made her angrier; how could she be a RiverClan cat if she didn't know how to swim? Did Tawnyclaw even care about her enough to train her properly? Well, she thought, she'd show him. She'd learn how to swim on her own.

She padded to the edge of the river and felt the pebbles smooth under her paws. The edge of the river lapped gently against her claws, and her instinct called her forward. She was a RiverClan cat; this is what she was born to do. But suddenly the water looked like an enemy warrior, foreign and unpredictable. She heard Tawnyclaw's voice in her head, "Don't overthink it." She growled and shrugged the thought away, and gingerly stepped into the water.

The cold shocked her at first, rooting her to the spot. It was the kind of cold that seeped into her bones, as if it was freezing her in place. After moving her paws around a bit, she adjusted to the frigid temperature and slowly began to move deeper into the river until the water lapped at her belly fur.

Minnowpaw gulped as she thought about going any farther. Once her feet were off the safety of the riverbed below, would she know what to do? If her instinct called her into the river, would it help her to swim in it? Tawnyclaw's voice still nagged in the back of her mind, telling her to just do it, so she did. She pushed forward and was suddenly floating in the middle of the cold river.

For a short moment, Minnowpaw felt triumphant, but then she began to sink. Nearly panicking, she kicked out with all four paws and spluttered as her mouth and nose went under. She struggled to find a rhythm, and after several moments of flailing wildly, she managed to paddle smoothly and evenly, keeping her head above water. She was swimming!

Minnowpaw fought the urge to yowl in triumph; she was too close to Sunningrocks, which were currently ThunderClan territory, and she didn't want to risk an enemy patrol seeing her alone in the river. So she held her tongue and instead focused on the movements of her paws in the water. It felt so natural to be swimming, and the water simply glided past her sleek pelt, kept glossy by the fish she ate.

Minnowpaw swam several fox-lengths down the river and back again to where she'd started, and she only lost her balance twice. She was beginning to feel tired as she pulled herself onto the bank. Between her training session and swimming, she was ready to curl up in her nest and sleep for a moon. She was hungry, too, and she pictured the fresh-kill pile heaping with all kinds of tasty prey to choose from.

But Minnowpaw knew that she couldn't go back to camp without fresh-kill of her own and expect to be able to pick something off the pile. Grimly, she realized that after her fight with Tawnyclaw, she'd be lucky if she was allowed to eat tonight at all! No matter what, though, she knew she should bring back fresh-kill; it was her job as an apprentice to feed the elders, and she knew that Maplenose and her three kits would appreciate full bellies too. So Minnowpaw waded back into the river and waited.

It didn't take long for her to catch two fat, juicy fish. After all, leaf-bare didn't take its toll on river prey like it did in the forest. RiverClan had prey through all the seasons as long as the river didn't freeze. Carrying the two fish awkwardly by their tails, Minnowpaw headed, soaking wet, back to camp.