The musk of fallen leaves, the hidden mice scrabbling along beneath them, a faraway scent of clean, running water. A sign of prey nearby, the slow approach, and the terrifying moment that would define success. Starlingpaw let herself become lost in the sights and smells of the hunt. A small brown shrew sat sniffing at the ground a tail-length away from her. All she had to do was enact the methods she had been so dutifully taught and drilled on. She balanced lightly on her paws, trying to stay completely still to keep from alerting the creature to her presence.
All right, she thought. This will be easy. I just have to pounce and swipe. It's not hard. Starlingpaw hesitated only a moment before making the jump.
The sable-furred apprentice leapt forward, sailing through the thick Greenleaf air for mere moments before reaching the shrew. She lashed out with unsheathed claws, but missed by a mouse-length and found herself crashing to the ground head first, landing in an ungraceful heap on the forest floor. Starlingpaw growled angrily. She had fumbled again!
Deciding that there was no time to waste, she shook the leaves from her fur and stood up, turning around to find a new scent. She caught a glimpse of a slender black tail flashing out of sight between two dense ferns and felt herself flush with embarrassment beneath her fur. Her mentor, Darkfeather, had been watching at exactly the wrong moment! Starlingpaw was sure then that the rest of the assessment would not go well.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she continued to search for more prey. The woods were overflowing with mice and rabbits during the warm months, but Starlingpaw was so distracted with her failure that she couldn't catch onto a good scent.
Starlingpaw spat with anger and plopped heavily down on the ground. She buried her head in her paws, frustrated with her inability to hunt. The dark she-cat worried that she was missing some natural instinct that every other Clan cat had. Why did it have to be so hard?
When she finished mulling over her failure, Starlingpaw managed to catch a mouse- and an already near-dead one, at that- before sunhigh. Growling in disappointment and shame, she returned to the spot her mentor told her to with her meager catch. She carried the fresh-kill sadly to the sunny grove, dropping it at her mentor's dark-colored paws and hanging her head in shame.
Darkfeather, who had waited patiently for her apprentice to return, purred encouragingly, "A whole mouse! That's better than last time, when you only caught the tail of one!"
Starlingpaw huffed at the statement. "It's not much better at all."
Darkfeather shifted uncomfortably. "I did see your attempts, and you were trying your best. That's all we ask for from our warriors-to-be."
"You don't have to lie to me, Darkfeather. I'm horrible at hunting!" Starlingpaw yowled miserably. "I'll never be a warrior."
Darkfeather nudged her apprentice's cheek with her nose, purring. "Don't worry. If you keep practicing, you'll get there eventually. Hunting isn't easy for every cat."
"It is for most, though," Starlingpaw meowed, pulling away from her mentor's touch. "I wish I wasn't such a failure."
Her mentor's amber eyes swam with emotion, but she said nothing, instead motioning for Starlingpaw to pick up the prey and return to camp.
The pair of she-cats padded their way through the brightly lit woods and pushed through the thicket tunnel into DawnClan camp, which was sheltered from the rain by the towering trees that built a canopy over the dusty clearing. Starlingpaw's cheeks burned with humiliation as she placed her meager catch on the bountiful fresh-kill pile, and she padded silently to the apprentices' den. Her brother, Larkpaw, waited expectantly in the mossy patch of ground that the apprentices shared as sleeping quarters. His fur was a deep creamy color, and his face, paws, and tail faded into a dark brown similar to the color of Starlingpaw's fur.
"So, Starlingpaw, tell me! How did your assessment go?" he mewed in a friendly tone.
Starlingpaw replied with a low hiss. "You don't have to ask. Didn't you see my catch when I came in?"
Larkpaw shifted his weight between his paws. "Okay, yes, I saw. But... one mouse is better than none!"
The young she-cat flattened her ears. "You're just like Darkfeather. I don't need consolation. I need to be better."
Her brother pressed his nose lightly against her side, his tail flicking from left to right. "Then why don't we train tonight? I can help teach you some things. I don't mean to condescend, but the only way to improve is practice."
"Fine," Starlingpaw meowed, unhappy at the prospect of embarrassing herself in front of her brother, but agreeing with his words.
Larkpaw purred happily, twitching his whiskers. "Great!" She felt a stab of jealousy at his easy optimism.
As Starlingpaw leaned forward to stretch, she caught sight of her mentor approaching the Clan leader, Blizzardstar. The young apprentice straightened up immediately and leaned toward the two older cats, trying to catch parts of their conversation, even though she was rather sure what they were going to say.
Larkpaw caught notice as well and pricked his ears to listen, but soon enough Darkfeather had walked away from Blizzardstar and neither of the siblings had managed to hear anything.
Hissing softly, Starlingpaw turned away and settled into a nearby moss nest, then began to groom her paws and forelegs. Larkpaw pushed his face down next to hers and tried to initiate a conversation.
"What do you think she told Blizzardstar?" he asked, glancing back at the white tomcat leader.
"She probably told him that I'll never become a warrior at this rate," Starlingpaw replied sadly. "I'm sure Blizzardstar is already planning to throw me out of camp or something. I'm useless."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Starlingpaw," Larkpaw mewed. "And don't worry. Blizzardstar would never do that. He's much too gentle."
The sable she-cat thought about spitting back a snide remark, but she was getting tired of being bitter. "Yeah, you're right," she meowed simply, and continued to groom her paws as Larkpaw settled down beside her to do the same. "So, how was your training session today, Larkpaw?"
"Well-" he started, but was cut off as a she-cat near the thicket tunnel let out a shocked yowl. The apprentices whipped their heads around to see what was the matter.
The she-cat that had cried out stood surprised at the camp entrance, her long and luscious fur mostly black with white markings on her muzzle, neck, paws, and tail tip. It was the queen Ebonypetal, who was staring at the young cat that had just entered the camp. Birchpaw walked through the tunnel, revealing that his white-and-black fur was full of thorns and twigs. He looked battered and weak as if he had been through an ordeal. Ebonypetal pushed her nose against her grown son's flank and pushed him towards the medicine cat's den.
Starlingpaw glanced at her brother. "We should go talk to him, don't you think?"
Larkpaw nodded and the siblings got to their feet, padding across the camp to the large hole in the cliff that partly surrounded the DawnClan camp. The medicine cat's den sat inside, with enough space for a couple of thin moss nests and multiple craggy ledges that allowed for storage of herbs.
The two young cats peered inside, watching as Birchpaw entered, interrupting Honeypool from her sorting work. The medicine cat was of an experienced age, and her fur was a light golden color that gave her her name. She noticed the black-and-white patched apprentice immediately and got to work retrieving different kinds of leafy plants to treat him.
Starlingpaw didn't hesitate in stepping into the den and rushed to Birchpaw's side. "Are you alright? What happened?" she meowed, purring softly to try to comfort him.
Birchpaw was larger than Starlingpaw, and his fur longer, but he trembled constantly and was always afraid of something. His eyes would dart around, and he could not seem to settle his paws. However, he seemed slightly more at ease in the medicine cat's den, likely due to his regular visits. The apprentice replied in a low, shaky tone, "I'd rather not talk about it if that's alright with you."
Starlingpaw blinked in confusion, but replied, "Of course."
The apprentices stood side-by-side for a few more moments until Honeypool turned around with a mouthful of plants. Starlingpaw identified them quickly by scent- a stem of horsetail and a few thyme leaves. She had a rather good sense of smell and excelled in remembering scents, which only furthered her anger at being unable to locate prey during her assessment.
"Starlingpaw, would you mind helping pick some of these thorns out of Birchpaw's fur?" Honeypool asked, shaking the dark-furred apprentice out of her thoughts.
"I'm fine, Honeypool," Birchpaw meowed suddenly. "I don't need her help."
Starlingpaw stepped back in surprise and Honeypool flattened her ears, then meowed angrily, "It's only going to take twice as long to clean your fur, but suit yourself."
Birchpaw nodded silently and turned away from the other apprentices, signaling them to leave him in peace. Starlingpaw ducked her head and backed out of the medicine den.
The she-cat apprentice padded back to the apprentices' den with her brother, occasionally tripping over her paws as Larkpaw paused to pounce on the sunspots that danced around the clearing.
When they returned to the apprentices' clearing, Starlingpaw felt the exhaustion of the day weigh on her and decided to nap before her practice with Larkpaw. She settled down in a pile of moss and Larkpaw sat down beside her.
"Birchpaw must have fallen into that thornbush by the training clearing, huh?" Larkpaw mewed. "I wonder if he was running from Thornflame?" he joked, twitching his whiskers.
Starlingpaw found herself offended by the stab at their father, but simply replied, "Maybe."
Larkpaw sat staring quizzically at her. After a short while of Starlingpaw awkwardly staring back at him, he meowed, "I'll just leave you to rest, then. We can train after I hunt. Russetstorm is insistent that I get enough practice."
Probably so you don't end up a failure as I have, Starlingpaw thought but did not say. She pretended to be drowsy and twitched her ears to shoo her brother away.
Her head resting on her paws, Starlingpaw ran the events of the day through her mind again and again, criticizing and berating her uselessness until she barely noticed the real world before her paws. She was lost in that sea of self-loathing when Birchpaw padded into the den, silently settling himself in the nest furthest from any other apprentice's.
She studied him quietly, her yellow eyes running over his patchy white and black fur. He didn't seem to mind being alone, nor did he enjoy any company. Starlingpaw wondered what would make a cat so upset that they didn't even wish to share tongues after a bad experience or training session. She then remembered her failed hunt and as she started again to beat herself up over her clumsy mistakes, Starlingpaw wondered if Birchpaw felt similarly about training.
Before she knew what was happening, Starlingpaw had walked over to where Birchpaw laid silently and mewed a greeting.
Birchpaw flicked his tail at her and meowed a barely audible response.
"How was training today?" she asked him, trying to start a conversation.
Birchpaw raised his head to look at her with bright green eyes that seemed oddly dull. He gazed intently at her face, making her shuffle her paws with embarrassment, before he spoke. "I fell into a thornbush."
Starlingpaw blinked in surprise at his detached tone. "Oh." She lowered herself to his level in the name of politeness.
They sat quietly for a moment before she realized that Birchpaw might be looking for comfort. Surely falling into a thornbush was not a success in his training. "Um. If it's any consolation, I had a horrible training session, too," she meowed quietly, looking anywhere around the clearing but into Birchpaw's melancholy eyes.
He snorted with laughter. "At least I'm not alone in that, then."
Starlingpaw felt herself brighten at the complete sentence she had pulled out of him, but Birchpaw quickly turned away and curled back up to sleep. She left him to doze and went back to her own patch of moss.
As she laid down on the ground and nestled herself into the cushiony moss nest, trying her hardest to feel at ease, but her mind still rushed with angry thoughts at her failure to hunt and, now, her failure to soothe a fellow apprentice. She only caught a few moments of sleep before it was time to train with her brother.