If ever there was a day for the sun to stop moving, Ivorypaw thought today would be the worst. He tried hard to keep his mind off the time, to try and busy himself with training or den cleaning; but nothing worked. His mind buzzed with what tests awaited him later in the day and even Blackclaw's belligerent nagging couldn't distract him.
Ivorypaw was relieved when Weaselstar called a meeting. Two kits were racing through the clearing, playing a game of tag. The bluish she-cat was the smaller one, while her sister was a deep gray and much less petite. Cats lifted their paws to avoid getting tripped up by the little she-kits, while others grumbled about how Queens should keep a better eye on their obnoxious pawfuls.
Silverear hurried after her kits, gray and ginger tabby pelt ruffled. "Glowkit! Graykit! Get over here now, your messing up your fur!" The two kits were wrestling on the sandy floor, tearing up the short grass that poked in between the grains. When their mother reached them, she separated the two with each forepaw. "Your going to be Apprentices now, stop acting like month olds!"
Ivorypaw found a purr rise in his chest as the two kits ducked their heads and muttered, "Yes, mother." He knew them well, for he and Whisperpaw had been their den-mates before their Apprenticeship. The young tom recalled with happiness playing moss-ball with Glowkit, and making fun of her prissy sister Graykit.
Weaselstar watched his clan gather with a bored look in his eyes. Simple clan life didn't seem to interest him. Ivorypaw had only seen the dark brown tom get excited when he talked over past battles, or victories. But now, the great tom raised his tail for silence and everyone looked up expectantly.
"By naming Apprentices we show that Twilightclan is and always will be growing stronger. Glowkit, Graykit. Step forward." Ivorypaw was again reminded how short a time he had been an Apprentice. Glowkit stepped forward quickly, her little blue tail bushed up like a fox's; gray eyes gleaming with excitement. Graykit stepped forward with much more grace. Each paw seemed to move slowly and carefully, her nose was turned up slightly and her tail swished back and forth slowly.
"Until you complete your training you will be known as Glowpaw. Your mentor will be Spottednight, teach her your excellent hunting and climbing skills." A dark gray and white speckled tom stepped out of the crowd and headed toward his new Apprentice. Glowpaw's eyes were wide as moons as she raised her head to touch his nose, which was a quick tap before she was babbling out questions to him.
"What are we going to learn first?? When will I go into battle? When will I become a Warrior? What's the territory like??"
Spottednight's eyes widened and he glanced around with embarrassment. Weaselstar was scowling down at the chattering she-cat and Graykit was looking especially annoyed. "Shh! The meeting isn't over yet." Spottednight mewed as nicely, but sternly as he could to the little blue furred cat. An amused purr rose from the crowd.
Weaselstar continued when silence was regained. "Graykit, until you complete your training your name will be Graypaw. Jayflight will train you. Teach her your courage and humility." A beautiful pale gray she-cat stepped forward, the swirling silver patterns along her flanks rippling as she walked forward. With eyes as clear as the sun, she looked proudly at her Apprentice; touching noses with a purr.
Weaselstar quickly dismissed the meeting as cats cheered and greeted the new Apprentices. Immediately after everyone had congratulated Glowpaw and Graypaw, Ivorypaw was planning on continuing his training with Blackclaw to pass the time; but Glowpaw barreled over to him before he could find the tawny Warrior.
"Hey! Isn't it great we'll be sharing a den together again! We can play like we used to, 'member?" Ivorypaw shuffled his paws. He didn't want to be caught by the other Warriors playing kit games.
"We're not kits anymore Glowpaw. No more games." Whisperpaw padded up to the two, giving Ivorypaw a glare.
"Nonsense, Ivorypaw. Your just a boring old elder! I'll play with you Glowpaw." The brown she-cat mewed kindly, but Glowpaw didn't look hurt by Ivorypaw's reply anyway. She simply chatted on about how great it was to be a Apprentice now, and how excited she was to catch up to the two slightly older Apprentices in training. I wont let that happen. Glowpaw was just another cat in the competition against Ivorypaw and he wouldn't let her get ahead.
"Ivorypaw, we have training to do." Blackclaw's deep growl sounded behind the dark tabby tom. Turning his head, he noticed how the Warrior's eyes distinctly avoided Glowpaw; as if she wasn't there. For some reason that irritated Ivorypaw and as he looked back at the little she-cat, he saw she had noticed it too. The head Warrior of the clan had simply over looked her, as if she didn't exist. Her gray eyes had dropped to her fluffy blue paws, and the fur along her shoulder's pooled down her small frame as she slouched.
"Let's go." Blackclaw lead Ivorypaw out of camp to the training hollow, but he still felt agitated; as if a burr was stuck behind his ear or in between the fur on his pads. Why did the tawny tom cat always have to act so supercilious to cats he thought were weak. He did it to Whisperpaw, Fallenshadow, and even Nightpelt sometimes. Now Glowpaw? Just because they aren't as fond of fighting and power as he is, does that make him any better? Yet, Ivorypaw couldn't help but wonder if he was like that too. He did enjoy fighting; thought it was exhilarating to out smart his opponent with neat and powerful moves of endurance, cleverness and strength. He also wanted, more than anything, to be leader.
Do cats think I'm that rude? A sick feeling passed through the young tom. Was he changing? He thought back to the way Whisperpaw had glared at him when he refused to play moss ball with Glowpaw. Blackclaw's ego and superior attitude was rubbing off on him and Ivorypaw didn't want that. I'll be a kind leader. I'll give my clan everything they want.
Training slid by painfully slow as Blackclaw showed Ivorypaw new hunting crouches. One for mice, another for voles and shrews, but the Warrior didn't mention birds. He figured it was because not many birds landed on the ground; the undergrowth was too thick for them to stretch out their wings for flight. When Blackclaw finally told Ivorypaw he could go back to camp, he did it with lightning speed. The sun was over head, beating down into the territory with glaring heat. If it wasn't for the shade the trees granted, Ivorypaw knew his dark pelt would be cooking.
As the Apprentice shot into camp and immediately looked for Weaselstar, he spotted the dark brown tom eating a vole with Rosenight; who caught his eye and gave a friendly wave of her tail. Ivorypaw walked over to the two, still not fond of the ginger she-cat. She doubts I'm strong enough to go to the Gathering. He narrowed deep green eyes. I'll show all who doubt me how strong I am today! Weaselstar's ears pricked as the young tom padded over, tingling with excitement.
"Is it sun-high already? Well, I suppose we better get this done and over with." Although Weaselstar spoke as though he was uninterested, his brown eyes sparked with pleasure. Almost an evil look. Ivorypaw felt uncomfortable under his steady stare and was glad when he could pad behind him out of camp. In the forest, Weaselstar wasted no time.
"Your task is to catch two weasels and protect them from intruders." Ivorypaw flicked an ear curiously.
"Intruders?"
"You'll know them when you see them." Weaselstar nodded to the Apprentice, then swiftly disappeared into a patch of bracken, his pelt blending with ease. Two weasels? And defend them? It didn't seem like a hard task, not hard at all. Ivorypaw slipped through the trees and as he sniffed around for the musky odor of the brown, snake-bodied creatures he was reminded how tricky weasels could be. They often times had more than one burrow, and rarely stayed above ground for long. A cat could follow a steady trail only to be cut off at a burrow, losing the trail completely.
This irritating game of hide-and-seek made Ivorypaw quickly lose his temper, and soon his nose was pressed close to the ground; sniffing rapidly and growling under his breath. As if to tease him, a glimpse of brown fur caught the edge of his vision. Freezing, he scented and listened. The thud of a tiny heart-beat was sounding against his soft ear fur, the musky odor making his mouth water. Now I've got you. Crouching low, he slipped behind some ferns, located his prey, and pushed off hard to pounce. Ivorypaw's mighty leap carried him at least two tail-lengths forward, and his out stretched paws landed hard on the soft bodied creature.
Pride filled the brown tabby tom and, in his glory, he forgot completely about the "intruders." Scuffing dirt over his catch, Ivorypaw padded out to find another weasel. Either it was purely luck that he caught the first one above ground, or the squeal it had let out had frightened all the others off, but Ivorypaw could not find even a scent trail. He was just about to dig up a burrow out of desperation when a low growl disrupted his hunting. Immediately, Ivorypaw recalled the intruders he was supposed to be watching out for, and pelted toward the sound.
Heart racing, breath short, he stopped just behind some trees. The growls were clear to him now, and as he picked out the words raged filled through him.
"Look at this scrawny thing. Its a pathetic catch and even more pathetic is that Ivorypaw isn't even here to defend it!" Another cat chuckled at the she-cat's remark. Ivorypaw unsheathed his claws, bracing for impact as he threw himself between the tangled branches. Unsuspecting fur met out-stretched claws as Ivorypaw slammed into Ravenflight. His green eyes filled with shock and he tried to throw his weight back, but it was too late. The black she-cat tumbled backward, with Ivorypaw falling to the dusty clearing awkwardly.
Claws gripped his hind quarters and Ivorypaw realized he had forgotten about the other cat. Paws scrambling as he was dragged backward, eyes wide, Ivorypaw glanced over his shoulder at his attacker. Bramblestripe's eyes were a blaze of fury, the fur along his spine raised in aggression. It wasn't the cat Ivorypaw had gotten to know. The joking, care-free tom he and Whisperpaw had trained with. Ravenflight raked her claws down Ivorypaw's muzzle, sending droplet's to splash the short grass. The green and dancing crimson made his head spin.
They're really hurting me! Blackclaw always had his claws out in training, but never before had he scratched or bit too deep. All the wounds were very superficial, and Ivorypaw never had a second thought about them; the dull throbbing pain tolerable. Bramblestripe and Ravenflight didn't let up as the tabby tom hesitated. They gripped him up and tossed him with nimble jaws. Blows showered his soft pelt and soon, the stench of blood had filled the air.
"Fight, Ivorypaw!" Ivorypaw wasn't sure were the yowl had come from, nor was he going to be told twice. These cats were no longer his clanmates. These cats were his opponents. They were stealing his prey and would probably kill him if he didn't defend his fragile, still kit-like body. Bramblestripe's jaws were clamped hard on Ivorypaw's hind leg and Ravenflight had bit his shoulder. The two were pulling in a deadly game of tug-of-war, but Ivorypaw had had enough of it. He kicked out with his free hind paw, catching Bramblestripe in the eye; the tabby Warrior stumbled back in pain. Ravenflight was prepared for Ivorypaw's next blow, so as he lashed out with a forepaw, she ducked.
The black Warrior hadn't expected him to throw every ounce of his weight at her, so as he did so she fell back with wide blue-green eyes. Her jaw let go of his shoulder as she screeched, and Ivorypaw had her pinned. Claws raked down the black she-cat's white belly fur; the crimson color again making him feel sick, but he forced the feeling down. Just when Ivorypaw was sure Ravenflight was going to give, Bramblestripe grabbed his scruff from behind and, with a mighty heave, threw him backward at least a fox-length.
The world flashed red for a heart beat, Ivorypaw having no time to recover before Bramblestripe's claws were pressing down on his chest. Thoughts rushed through his head. Ravenflight had been weaker than the brown tabby Warrior, but now Ivorypaw had no chance of throwing his weight around. He was pinned. He was done with. The young tom briefly remembered a training session with Bramblestripe. He had told Whisperpaw and him that if they were pinned, they could go limp and pretend defeat; when the opponent released their grip the supposedly defeated cat could take the upper paw. That move wouldn't work now, not after Bramblestripe had just gone over it with Ivorypaw. He'll expect it.
There was one thing the tom wouldn't expect. One thing that might distract him, might give Ivorypaw a chance. But it was a low blow. A cowardly and yet clever thing to do. I have to win this battle.
"Father...please...." As soon as the weak mewl escaped Ivorypaw's mouth, Bramblestripe's claws slowly sheathed, and his ears flattened. There was a look of confusion on his face, yet also knowing. Ivorypaw kicked Bramblestripe's legs out from under him. The tom' s eyes filled with panic as his belly was raked with thorn sharp claws, a never ending cascade of blows. Ivorypaw filled with satisfaction as the Warrior yowled in pain, and raced away with his tail between his legs. Ravenflight watched in fury. She lunged at the Apprentice, who nimbly ducked; the she-cat flew over his head.
"You fight like a coward!"
"You use speed. I use smarts. I don't see how its any different." Ivorypaw's coy remark only added to Ravenflight's anger. She slashed at him, quick blows that he easily deflected. The young tom was pushing her back, past the wall of trees and into the ferns. I'm winning! As quickly as the shadows change on a bright day, Ravenflight's blows stopped and a look of victory filled the she-cat's eyes.
"Your right. I do use speed." All Ivorypaw saw was a streak of black as the dark Warrior pelted back the way they had came. He realized with shame what the she-cat had done. She let me push her back, she led me away from my prey! Ivorypaw tried to catch up to her. His paws flailed, getting tangled up in roots and bramble tendrils; his fur getting tugged at by thorns and low branches, but no matter what method he used of pushing through the undergrowth, Ravenflight was still bobbing ahead of him.
A dark feeling filled his belly as Ravenflight slid to a stop, scuffed the dirt off the freshly caught weasel, and held it in her jaws with a look of contempt at Ivorypaw. A look so deep and cruel, that it made him want to claw it off her face. Weaselstar slipped out of the undergrowth with Blackclaw hard on his heels. The two great toms were looking at the scene of blood and fury with pleasure. The leader nodded in praise to Ravenflight, she seemed to fill with joy at the quick motion of respect.
Bramblestripe hung at the back of the group.
"How do you think Ivorypaw fought, Ravenflight?" Blackclaw questioned curiously, eyeing his Apprentice.
Ivorypaw forced himself not to cower. He knew he had lost. He had been fooled by his own trickery and pride. Surely Ravenflight had nothing good to say, but the black she-cat's eyes softened as she gazed at her clanmate.
"He held his own against two fully trained Warriors. Not many Apprentices his age can do that." Ivorypaw blinked in surprise. Ravenflight padded over to him, dropping the weasel at his paws. "What happens in battle practice, stays in battle practice. In the end your still my clanmate and I'll always respect you." Her mew was kind, yet it brought Ivorypaw little comfort. He had still lost and the defeat was burning through him like a wild fire.
Weaselstar nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "And you, Bramblestripe? What did you think of Ivorypaw's skills?" All eyes turned to the dark brown tabby tom, who had been silent up to now. Ivorypaw found himself caught in a gaze full of hurt. Full of betrayal. He suddenly regretted using a personal weakness on the battle field. I hadn't realized he cared so much...I guess that's why him and Fallenshadow fight so much? Ivorypaw wanted to say something, but it didn't seem like the right time. Would there ever be? Or was the mistake done to great?
"He is clever." Bramblestripe's voice came out low and unsteady. "But, I think he should fight with more heart. A cold hearted fighter, makes many enemies." Weaselstar flicked his tail, as if casting aside the last part of the Warrior's comment.
"Very well. Great training everyone, get back to camp and eat. See Mitetail for those wounds." Ivorypaw was motioned to by Blackclaw, who lead him back to camp and even offered him to lean on his shoulder. It was odd for the tom to be so generous and Ivorypaw wondered if his mentor was proud of him, but when they reached camp he simply left his Apprentice without a word and headed for the Warriors den. Ivorypaw staggered across camp, suddenly worried how everyone would react. He was beaten, torn, and bloody. The secret of his violent training sessions would be noticed now. How could anybody not see the trail of blood he left behind him; the limp in his walk.
Apparently, lots of cats could easily not notice. Warriors went about their meals, or grooming. Others padded out of camp with a patrol, eyes ahead. Apprentices chatted amongst each other with out the turn of a sympathetic or concerned eye and Ivorypaw noticed Whisperpaw must be out with Casey. The only cat that seemed to care at all was Fallenshadow, who left the mouse he had been eating to see his son. The tom's gray eyes were filled with concern, but not curiosity. How could he know about the test?
"You need to see Mitetail now!" Fallenshadow let his son lean against his lean shoulders, licking him between the ears stiffly. Ivorypaw winced as blood spilled out of his shoulder onto the gray fur.
"Relax. It's...just a few cuts. I got caught up in a bramble bush." At the entrance of the den, Fallenshadow leaned away from his son.
"You....You don't have to lie to me." Ivorypaw felt his stomach twist. Before he had a chance to ask his father what he meant, the gray tom swiftly padded off. What in the name of Starclan is going on here??He turned, feeling dejected, and limped painfully into the Medicine cat den. He realized with a pang of sadness that he had just had his first battle. Ivorypaw had never thought it would be against his own clanmates.
Inside the den, Mitetail was hunched over some herbs. The old tom's paws shook as he arranged and rearranged a set of leaves; as if no matter how carefully he stacked them, they never turned out right. His gray and white fur looked grizzled, and the slouch of his shoulders seemed painfully permanent. The old Medicine Cat stopped and slowly turned to face the beaten up Apprentice that padded into his den. His gray eyes blinked briefly.
"Ah, Ivorypaw. I've been expecting you."
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