Warriors: The Trail of Centuries

Chapter 3

     "I-I don't think I should talk about it," Spottedpaw stammered. "I shouldn't have been listening in the first place. Besides, if they wanted other cats to hear what they had to say, I'm sure they would have spoken up." Dustpaw's prying eyes weighed down on her; she felt as though she were being crushed and, after several uncomfortable moments later, she caved. "Fine," she confessed, "Deadeye thinks the other Clans are hiding something from him. They didn't really say much about it, but he thinks they're searching for something that he doesn't know about." When Dustpaw still watched her expectantly, she quickly added, "Frozenleaf just thinks he's paranoid because he won't take on StarClan's given leader nam–"

     The other apprentice interrupted with a fit of laughter. "StarClan? Hasn't Hawkscar taught you anything?" he snorted. "Rocksplash says that's just a bunch of nursery tales so that the queens can make their kits behave. All the other warriors agree, too!" Spottedpaw stared at him incredulously. Even though they hadn't been taught much about what exactly StarClan was, she felt deeply insulted.

     "If that's true, why would Deadeye ask Frozenleaf if she'd been speaking to the–"

     "That's quite enough out of the two of you." A new, stern voice interrupted her this time. The cream pelt of her mentor emerged from the undergrowth. "You're supposed to be hunting, not gossiping about who said what in the camp. Dustpaw, I know that Rocksplash has trained you better than that—or should I make a complaint about you distracting my apprentice from her duties while you deliberately ignore your own?" His hard amber gaze became fixated on the brown tom, who ducked his head shamefully in return.

     "N-No, Hawkscar," Dustpaw muttered bitterly. "It won't happen again."

     "I'll see to it that it doesn't." Hawkscar whisked his tail in dismissal and Dustpaw scampered off into the forest. As soon as Dustpaw vanished, Hawkscar turned his scolding gaze on Spottedpaw. "Eavesdropping on our leader and healer is bad enough," he started, "but gossiping about it to other apprentices? You know better than that." His unforgiving tone made Spottedpaw heat up in embarrassment. 

     "I'm sorry, Hawkscar," she mumbled ever so quietly. She wouldn't admit how pressured she'd felt under her brother's hard stare. I'm sure it's why he's so upset with me. A good warrior would never succumb to pressure like that, she thought sadly.

     "I'm disappointed in you, Spottedpaw." The tom continued as though he hadn't heard her apology. "I clearly need to revisit my lesson about the codes we uphold in the Gorge, and much more thoroughly this time around." Having been used to his usual lightheartedness and jokes, the seriousness of his voice unnerved Spottedpaw. There was an uncomfortable silence that hung over them and Spottedpaw held his fierce gaze for what felt like an eternity. "Return to your hunting. I want to see the fresh-kill pile twice the size that it usually is." Without another word he bounded off into the forest, the undergrowth quickly hiding any trace of him. Shame still burning into her pelt, Spottedpaw turned and resumed her previous hunt. She was determined to, at the very least, impress her mentor with good catches.

     Spottedpaw trudged into camp with her tail hung low. She had caught more prey than usual, but once she had met up with the rest of the patrol she saw that her mentor's expression was unreadable. Both she and Dustpaw were carrying almost too much prey to hold—while she somehow felt worse than when she had gotten scolded, her brother seemed all too proud of himself. Rocksplash was no different. The tortoiseshell she-cat puffed her chest out as she strutted along with her catches. The returning patrol donated their kills to what remained of the fresh-kill pile. 

     As they dropped the prey she turned hopefully to Hawkscar. The tom, however, merely looked past her. He padded past her and towards his fellow warriors, who were all resting inside a smooth dip in the cave floor. Depressed at the rejection and suddenly weary on her paws, she turned and headed to the apprentices' cave. Spottedpaw nosed her way through the nests until she found her own and collapsed into it.