The eerie silence of the forest surrounded Lightpaw as she slid forward, pushing past low-hanging pine branches and scratchy bramble bushes. The quiet pressed down on her from all sides, too heavy and much too encompassing. Every step she took seemed to send up a flurry of sound and made her fur stand on end.
How am I ever to be as silent as the forest? Not a bird chirped, not a mouse squeaked; even the wind was silent today.
She noticed the small twig seconds before placing her paw on it. Smugly, she reached a little further forward, narrowly avoiding discovery. Her weight shifted forward, then backwards again as she pulled her rear legs forward. One more step and –
Crack!
Lightpaw's right back leg hit the twig she had only just avoided.
Her cry of frustration turned into a yowl of surprise as a body hit her, flinging her into a bed of dead leaves. Brown and orange covered her vision, rising up in clouds above her and floating back down to rest on top of the ginger tom standing over her.
"Again." Flamestrike's amber eyes were narrowed with disapproval and Lightpaw felt her insides shrink.
"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," she growled as he let her up, shaking out the foliage stuck in his fur.
"You're too conscious of your steps," he replied, running a paw over his ears.
"But if I'm not conscious I make too much noise!" she protested.
He cuffed her over the ears. "Then learn to walk the forest as if you are a part of it! Over-thinking it makes it unnatural and in order to be completely silent it needs to feel the opposite."
"Slinking through the forest like a rogue in my own territory is supposed to feel natural?" Lightpaw replied.
Flamestrike snorted. "It's a skill you need to learn. Rainpaw can do it, no one's found her yet. Beetlepaw and Stormpaw are doing well, they've only been caught twice. Even Yewpaw's doing better than you are!"
The tortoiseshell apprentice felt her fur burn. With a huff, she rushed back into the undergrowth, concentrating intensely. She wouldn't be beat. She was great at fighting and hunting, why was stealth such a problem?
But are you really that great?
Lightpaw shook her head, clearing the voice of doubt away. She took a deep breath, driving out the images that accompanied it: a small figure, standing on the edge while everyone else threw themselves inwards, claws and fangs flashing; a dappled pelt so saturated with red it hardly looked real; the dull hazel gaze of an innocent.
She stopped herself from grinding her fangs together, afraid of being caught once more. Six times already today, and their stealth drill was nowhere from being over. Rowanstorm would make them practice until dusk, if that's what it took.
The next cat to catch her was Oakshade after she had the misfortune of getting stuck in a bramble bush. The tabby looked apologetic and even stopped to pull some of the burrs out of her fur, but it was a seventh catch nonetheless. More determined than ever, Lightpaw pushed forward.
The one advantage she had over the others was her dappled pelt. The creams and blues and patches of white hid her well in the leaf-bare scenery; at least, much better than Beetlepaw's pitch black pelt or the greys and golds of Rainpaw, Stormpaw, and Yewpaw.
The one disadvantage were her apparently very clumsy paws and her habit of grinding her fangs in frustration.
"I can hear you, you know."
The tortoiseshell nearly jumped out of her fur as she came face to face with Shademask.
"Next time you sneak up on me like that, I'll claw your ears off," Lightpaw hissed, smoothing out her fur.
Shademask scowled. "Is that any way to talk to your elder?" His eyes, the dark green of pine needles, flashed dangerously.
The apprentice ducked her head. "No."
He nodded his approval, though the disapproving look did not waver. "The point of this exercise is for you to learn how to do exactly what I just did."
"And I'm the one who's supposed to be sneaking up on you, not the other way around," Lightpaw pointed out angrily.
"Doesn't change the fact that you neither saw, heard, or smelled me coming," the tom replied. "Now, tell me, how many times have you been caught? Five?"
The tortoiseshell's eyes widened. The lie would slip out so easily, even though the truth was right there on the tip of her tongue.
"Eight," she finally said, pushing her ears back in embarrassment.
Shademask did not react to the information, just nodded his head. "I will let Rowanstorm know." Lightpaw already dreaded the older tom's lecture once the drill came to an end.
Sure enough, at dusk when the drill finally came to an end, Rowanstorm singled her out first. Since getting caught by Shademask, Lightpaw had been caught four more times. She wanted to blame it on the thorn stuck in her paw but knew the excuse would never pass in front of the old mentor.
"Twelve times!" Rowanstorm's narrowed eyes beckoned her forward and Lightpaw stepped hesitantly towards the line of mentors, leaving the other apprentices behind. She heard Beetlepaw's snicker all too well.
"Caught twice by Newtfang, Oakshade, and Thistleshade, once by Shademask, Dapplefrost, and myself, and three times by Flamestrike." Rowanstorm flicked his tail as he listed off the names. Lightpaw only bowed her head lower in defeat, unwilling to meet the older tom's eyes.
"Three times by the same cat!" the tabby bellowed. "How are you ever supposed to pass your warrior assessment if you can't even sneak past one cat?"
The tortoiseshell felt a shiver run up her spine, but she remained motionless and kept her face blank.
Rowanstorm snorted derisively and Lightpaw, taking it as dismissal, retreated to the line of apprentices. Yewpaw flicked his tail over her lower back in a show of companionship, but Lightpaw knew he was secretly glad he had finally beat her in something.
"Yewpaw, you were caught nine times," Rowanstorm continued. "Not good enough. Stormpaw, six times, getting better. Beetlepaw, five times, that's decent. Rainpaw only twice, very good."
"No perfect scores," Newtfang said. "Hopefully by your warrior assessments only once or twice will be the maximum."
Rainpaw, affronted by the ginger tabby's words, stepped forward. "What's a perfect score?"
She shrank back again as Rowanstorm's green eyes settled on her. "Zero. That's the only way your enemies don't catch and kill you."
Then, directing his barb at Lightpaw, "You would be dead twelve times over if the rebels ever caught you."
//
Lightpaw chose not to eat with the other apprentices that night. Beetlepaw was annoying at the best of times; after beating the others, even though she had still come in second place, she was downright insufferable.
Instead, the tortoiseshell dragged her small mouse to the abandoned log, pushing herself right against it to shelter from the cold wind that had picked up as the sun sank lower. The mouse was tiny, with hardly any meat on its bones, but she didn't feel like she deserved much more. The thorn still stuck in her paw reminded her of that.
"Mind if I join you?" Lightpaw glanced up in surprise at Thistleshade. Though she did not feel like having company, the apprentice just nodded and continued to eat in silence.
Thistleshade tore into her sparrow quietly and the two sat side by side, crunching the bones between their fangs.
"That was a tough drill today," the black she-cat commented off-handedly, still chewing.
Lightpaw snorted. "I don't want to talk about it."
"There were seven of us and only five of you," she continued. "Not getting caught was a real feat."
"Yes, well, Rainpaw managed to do quite nicely, didn't she?" Lightpaw bit back.
Thistleshade purred. "She's the daughter of two of the stealthiest cats in this Clan."
Belatedly, Lightpaw remembered the conversation she overheard between Thistleshade and Oakshade in the forest and realized Rainpaw was their kit.
"I'm sorry," the apprentice replied. "I just don't want to fail my warrior assessment."
The older she-cat looked at her with a bright light in her eyes. Lightpaw didn't quite know what to call it.
"You won't," she said. "You just need some more practice is all."
Lightpaw's previous frustration returned. "Why do we need to be so silent anyways? If we're good at fighting what does it matter?"
This time, Thistleshade frowned. "A well-rounded warrior is the best kind of warrior. There are things you will always be better or worse at but you should know how to do everything to an acceptable degree. Stealth and climbing included."
The bubbling anger continued to simmer deep within Lightpaw's belly. It's not fair.
"Let me tell you a story," Thistleshade continued. "My littermates and I are all very different. Ternpaw was killed as an apprentice, but Duskwhisker you know well. He is a hunter and great at climbing, but his fighting and stealth could use some work. I, on the other hand, am one of the stealthiest hunters in the Clan, but fighting does not come easily to me."
"But it does come easily to me," Lightpaw interjected. "So what is the point of this story?"
Thistleshade hesitated. "Well... We also have a sister. She was always the best fighter out of the four of us and incredibly strong too. That gave her the ability to climb. On top of that her resourcefulness came in handy when strategizing; I can't remember a single time I beat her in battle training."
The apprentice blinked. "And her stealth?"
The black she-cat shook her head. "Not very good, I'm afraid. But she worked on it. We never had drills like yours when I was an apprentice but she would purposely slink through the forest when hunting, just to practice."
"And you think I should do the same?"
"It's just a suggestion. There's only one way to get better though, right?"
Lightpaw felt her fangs clench. She didn't want to say it out loud just yet.
"What happened to your sister?" she asked instead.
The tension that filled the air between them was so sudden Lightpaw couldn't help but unsheathe her claws. The older she-cat looked stricken, as if she were fighting an inner battle.
"Remember what Rowanstorm said about you being killed twelve times over if the rebels caught you?" Thistleshade whispered.
The apprentice nodded. "How could I forget?"
"You wouldn't be," the she-cat replied.
Lightpaw's fur lay flat again and she cocked her head in confusion. "How do you know that? And what has that got to do with your sister?"
But the black warrior was already walking away, summoned by Spiderthorn's call for midnight border patrol. The tortoiseshell watched her receding figure, irritated once more. She got to her paws, burning for answers; instead, she let out a yelp of pain as her throbbing paw reminded her of the thorn still stuck there.
At least Reedpaw can't bother me about the drill, Lightpaw thought bitterly before limping off to the healer's den.
// Looks like Lightpaw's a little bit frustrated. Perhaps she can pull an Acornfire and get better overnight?