Almondpaw's Regret

CHAPTER 1

Weak sunshine filtered through the canopy of leaves and warmed the forest floor, the forest was alive with the sound of creatures waking and scrambling in their hollows, a gust of warm breeze was a reminder that leaf-bare was almost over.

Almondpaw’s crouched under the bush and crept forwards. Her mouth open as she drank in the scent of prey. A mouse scuttled through the undergrowth looking for nuts to nibble on, unaware of danger. Almondpaw’s green gaze followed the tiny creature, creeping forwards again and slowly lifting her paws cautiously and silently as her mentor Littlefoot had taught her.

Almondpaw’s whiskers quivered with excitement as she bunched her legs under her, and with a yowl she sprang forwards and felt her paws meet mouse flesh. With a satisfied growl Almondpaw snapped the mouse’s spine.

“Good catch.” Littlefoot meowed approvingly stepping from some bushes with a squirrel dangling from his yaws.

Almondpaw beamed and scooped up the limp body off the forest ground.

“But,” Littlefoot went on “You shouldn’t yowl every time you catch something, there is probably no more prey here for fox lengths.”

Littlefoot’s praise was hard to get, but Almondpaw was getting used to her mentor’s bossiness. After countless moons of being an apprentice.

“Bring your catch back to camp, Rabbitfur has been bitter this morning, a mouse will cheer him up.” Littlefoot meowed.

Almondpaw’s whiskers twitched with amusement at the mention of the grumpy elder, she dipped her head to her mentor and scrapped away dirt to uncover her thrush, which she had killed and hidden earlier. She picked up both pieces of prey and waving her tail in farewell to Littlefoot set off back to camp.

Relishing the warmth of the new season Almondpaw made her way carefully through the leaf scattered floor, bird song was everywhere, and new flowers popped out of the ground in cheerful colors. A wind rippled through the trees, swishing branches and making leaves twirl down.

Almondpaw ignored the feeling to leap up and grab one of the leaves, those were kit games. Almondpaw had been an apprentice for four moons. She didn’t have time to play, her duty was to her clan.

The camp was up ahead, Almondpaw scampered down the ravine with ease, how many times had she done it was unknown. The ravine was a sandy sheltered old riverbed, perfect spot to make camp, and Almondpaw had admired and asked how their ancestors had chosen this spot. But not even the elders or nursery queens knew how to answer her curious questions.

As Almondpaw entered through the gorse tunnel paws scampered to meet her.

“Can I have the mouse?” Squeaked Sweetkit, charging with Fallowkit to meet her and bumping clumsily against Almondpaw’s side.

“No, it’s for Rabbitfur.” Almondpaw stepped over the squirming bodies of both kits and padding towards the jutting branch in the fallen tree that was the elders den.

Trying to ignore the kits’ disappointment and failing she dropped the thrush at their feet, “This is for you, bring it to your mother.” Almondpaw meowed. The kits squealed and grabbing the heavy prey between them trotted towards the nursery. Larksong blinked gratefully at Almondpaw from where she stood, in front of the nursery, grooming her belly which was heavy with kits.

Cats dozed at the edge of the clearing, Windstorm and Honeypelt both sharing tounges. Ravenpaw appeared from the medicine cat’s den and hurried towards the nursery, herbs wrapped in leabes in his yaws. Blackclaw stretched on a patch of sunlight, his ears twitching and his amber gaze on Honeystar who was quietly talking to Tawnystripe.

Almondpaw squeezed herself through the small entrance to the elders den, and nudged Rabbittuft. He startled awake.

Hissing he leaped to his paws, “Intruders! Where? I’ll rip their pelts off.” Rabbittuft let his hackles smooth when he saw it was only Almondpaw he flicked his tail crossly, “Youngster, why do you wake me like that? Can anyone have some decent sleep?”

Almondpaw stifled a mrrow of laughter and set the mouse at his paws, “Here is some prey for you.” She meowed as Rabbittuft crouched and cautiously sniffed it, as if expecting it to leap to its paws and attack him any minute now.

Almondpaw slid from the den and into the sunny clearing. I’m so glad leaf-bare is almost over! She thought as she stretched a paw and started washing it, the blood from the mouse she had caught earlier still flavored on her fur made her belly grumble.

“You sound hungry.” A voice meowed.

Almondpaw turned her head around and saw Weedpaw standing before her, a plump squirrel in his yaws. He dropped it at her paws and looked shyly at her.

Almondpaw blinked, “Thanks Weedpaw, but I can take my own prey from the fresh-kill pile.” And then noticed his hurt look in his eyes she quickly bent down and took a bite. Not knowing whether he was invited to share the prey with her Weedpaw quickly hurried away.

“You are the same as your mother.” Commented Oatspeckle thunderclan’s medicine cat padding up.

“In what way?” Almondpaw pricked her ears curiously at the mention of her dead mother, Flowerstem, she had drowned when she was a kit and her father had been killed in battle before she was born and having no siblings had left a lonely spot in Almondpaw’s heart.

“She got all the attention from the toms.” Meowed Oatspeckle, was that amusement in his eyes?

Almondpaw twitched her tail in reply, and took another bite of her squirrel. Her pelt prickled hotly, and she suddenly noticed that Weedpaw’s gaze lingered on her.

“Of course,” Oatspeckle went on, not aware that Almondpaw was suddenly glaring at him to shut up, “Your father won her heart over…”

Before Oatspeckle could go on Almondpaw leaped to her paws, and hastily swallowed the last of the squirrel. She dipped her head to the medicine cat and padded to the gorse tunnel. It would be nice to go on a walk on a day as nice as this.

Really, Oatspeckle is as good as an elder with his blabbering. Almondpaw leaped up the ravine, her paws disturbing some loose pebbles and making them rattle down. Almondpaw paused midway up, and sent another little stone hurtling down, making as much racket as the first. Whiskers twitching with amusement Almondpaw send another after it, and another, and another.

“Almondpaw!” Littlefoot yowled.

Almondpaw stiffened at her mentor’s sharp meow, and turning she blinked at the tabby tom.

“You are not a kit anymore! Such noise! Go fetch moss for the nursery’s bedding if you have nothing better to do.” Littlefoot’s face peered from above her head, more prey dangling from his yaws. He must’ve finished his hunt.

Almondpaw scrambled the rest of the way up the ravine and landed neatly beside her mentor.

“Sorry!” She panted, and Littlefoot shoot her another disapproving look.

Really, everybody is as grumpy as elders these days! They must be sad about old Whitepelt’s death… Almondpaw shook her pelt sadly at the thought of the old, weather worn, white she-cat. At least she had passed away peacefully with a full belly.

Tail high, Almondpaw stalked through the undergrowth toward the great sycamore.

Blackclaw flicked his tail for the patrol to stop. A chilly wind whipped through the trees, long shadows were cast down on bushes, and the sky was streaked red with the last warm rays of the sun. The first warriors of Starclan peeked over the horizon, glinting with cold light.

Are they watching us patrol now? Almondpaw wondered, as she stared up at the twilight sky.

“Right, Flamenose and Mousetail come with me.” Blackclaw ordered, then turned to the rest of the border patrol, “Littlefoot and Honeypelt, take your apprentices and patrol the border that way.” He pointed with his tail along the shared Shadowclan and Thunderclan border.

Littlefoot nodded and led the way among the shriveled bushes and trees beside the thunderpath, stopping at a bush to mark it. His grey pelt fluffed up against the cold. It was quite, the monsters must be asleep thought Almondpaw.

Weedpaw fell into step beside Almondpaw, “Cold night, huh?” he asked, looking timidly at her while he awaited her answer.

“Yeah.” Almondpaw meowed distractedly, placing another marker.

Weedpaw’s shoulders slumped, and his tail drooped. He hastily picked up speed to catch up to his mentor.

Guilt gnawed at Almondpaw’s belly, but before she could apologize to Weedpaw the ferns parted on the other side of the thunderpath. A Shadowclan patrol emerged, shouldering through the tough grass.

Almondpaw was about to call out a greeting, but stopped herself. This might be interesting.

Crouching she crept under a bush and waited, the rest of the thunderclan patrol had moved farther on leaving her alone.  She could imagen stinky Shadowclan trying to lead an invasion across the thunderpath and she herself yowling the warning from a not-so-secret anymore attack! Maybe Honeystar would be so pleased she would make her a warrior so soon!

The shadowclan patrol hesitated, and looked both ways. They’re actually going to cross it! Excitement and fear traveled from Almondpaw’s ears to her tail tip, followed by determination. You picked on the wrong apprentice…She stifled a low growl.

The cats started across, three toms and a white she-cat. A weird scent came from a black tom, noted Almondpaw as they stepped into Thunderclan territory. Almondpaw sprang from her hiding place with a fearsome yowl, flinging herself unto the back of the grey cat, and churned her hindlegs.

The cat let out a pained yowl and struggled to free himself. Teeth met Almondpaw’s scruff and hauled her off him, Almondpaw hissed and turned to meet the next attacker.

“Stop!” Yowled Littlefoot, he stood glaring at her, a mouse whisker away. Almondpaw sheathed her claws just in time as her paw batted his nose. Horror filled her at the thought of drawing blood from her mentor, thank Starclan! She prayed weak with relief, and thankful for her instincts to sheath at a familiar face.

“What were you thinking?” Littlefoot growled.

The Shadowclan patrol faced the Thunderclan patrol, clearly making an effort to lay their hackles flat. After all, they were on enemy territory. The grey cat Almondpaw had attacked licked some blood from his side.

Blackclaw padded forwards, dipping his head to the Shadowclan cats, “Sorry about our apprentice, she is a bit over protective.” He shot Almondpaw a dirty look.

Almondpaw’s yaws opened to protest, but the Shadowclan cats were watching her expectantly, as if waiting for an apology.

Weedpaw nudged her, “They are on medicine cat business! They are the escort!” he hissed under his breath.

Almondpaw’s pelt pricked with embarrassment as understanding filled her, “Sorry, I thought you were leading an invasion.” She admitted. Now she could see that the black tom with the weird scent was Sloefur, Shadowclan’s medicine cat. The scent was just mixtures of herbs and leaves. A new thought entered her mind, “How come you have to cross Thunderclan territory to go to highstones?”

The grey tom hissed in annoyance, “Does Thunderclan teach their apprentices to speak up everytime they want too?” Almondpaw’s fur bristled at his comment, the Shadowclan she-cat silenced him with a look.

 “Monsters seemed to have had a fight in the thunderpath farther down, their wreck and twolegs are everywhere making it impossible to cross.” She meowed, Almondpaw recognized her as Viperfang and the tom she fought with as Owlwing, the other younger tom besides Sloefur was new to her. She had never seen him in the gathering that was for certain, maybe he was a new apprentice. He seemed rather old to be a new apprentice, though not big enough to be a warrior either.

A rouge? Almondpaw wondered, his mottled ginger and black pelt stood out beside his clanmates, he was staring at her and Weedpaw curiously.

“We will escort you to the moor.” Blackclaw meowed curtly.

Viperfang nodded and wordlessly followed Blackclaw, the rest of the Thunderclan patrol flanked them as they headed under the trees.

Weariness tugged at Almondpaw’s legs as she clambered down the ravine. Darkness engulfed the forest by the time they reached the moor and Blackclaw had bid the Shadowclan cats a stiff farewell. The reason the Shadowclan cats traveled at night time to highstones was a mystery, for even at a steady pace they would reach highstones at sunhigh tomorrow.

Flamenose just snorted, “Typical Shadowclan, must sooth their fox-hearts to travel in the dark.”

Weedpaw had mrrowed with laughter, though Almondpaw had not founded it very amusing.

Almondpaw slid through the gorse tunnel, thorns pricking her fur. The clearing was washed in moonlight, the lichen covering the nursery’s entrance shimmered in the silvery light. A small breeze shook the branches of the trees gently, making the leaves swish and sway.

Honeystar, Tawnystripe, and Oatspeckle was waiting in front of her den, worry sparked her gaze and she let out a meow of relief when she saw the patrol return, with Tawnystripe and Oatspeckle at her side she hurried to meet them, “Where have you been?” the leader demanded while Oatspeckle sniffed for wounds. “it is nearly moonhigh!”

“Sorry we are so late,” Blackclaw blinked, “We ran into a Shadowclan patrol and had to escort them halfway across our territory.”

Littlefoot interrupted urgently, speaking in a low voice. Honeystar, Tawnystripe, and Oatspeckle leaned in to listen.

Weedpaw and Flamenose headed for their dens. Mousetail stayed.

The leader, deputy, and medicine cat turned their gazes to look at Almondpaw, then went on with their conversation.

Almondpaw’s pelt prickled uncomfortably, they are talking about me, probably saying how mouse-brained I am, guessed Almondpaw and thinking of the worst punishment.

Her tail drooped.

Mousetail padded closer, and murmured in her ear, “Cheer up! All apprentices make mistakes.” He stood near her, pressing so that their pelts brushed. Almondpaw shot him a grateful glance, then headed for the apprentices’ den.

Stumbling sleepily past a snoring Mumblepaw she curled up in her nest. Punishments could wait, now she could sleep a whole moon.

CHAPTER 2

A paw prodded Almondpaw awake, sunlight streamed through a hole in the bracken, bathing her nest and pelt in a warm embrace. Mousetail sat a couple tail-lengths away, his brown patches hardly visible in the dark den. Almondpaw open her yaws in a big yawn and stretched till her tail quivered with the effort, and blinked at the tom in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” she meowed, then panic entered her emerald-green eyes, “Oh no! Am I late for dawn patrol?”

Mousetail purred, “Dawn has come and gone,” then noticing the expression on her face layed his tail reassuringly over her shoulders, “Oaktail led a hunting patrol out of camp, we can catch up.”

We? Almondpaw awkwardly shrugged his tail off, “Great, see you there!” she called as she darted out of the den.

She hared for the gorse tunnel, ignoring Larksong’s call of greeting from the nursery. Ambereyes and Pebblefall looked up in surprise from where they shared prey as Almondpaw raced by. She was out!

She climbed the ravine and pounded through the forest, letting the wind and bird song sooth her. After a while she stopped running.

What was up with Mousetail? He had been acting strangely lately.

Almondpaw shook her head to clear her thoughts. Opening her mouth she tasted the air, new-leaf and prey bathed her tongue making her belly growl. Then she scented the hunting patrol.

Oaktail, Windstorm, and Littlefoot. Why is Littlefoot hunting without me? Almondpaw tracked the hunting patrol and stopped when she heard voices. Maybe she could scare them out of their fur!

Lowering her belly to the forest floor she crept forwards, treading lightly so as not to disturb leaves, her ears pricked.

“…was talking about, maybe she has bees in her brain?” Littlefoot’s voice meowed.

Who? Is he talking about me and the Shadowclan patrol? Almondpaw wondered, her pelt pricking with unease.

Windstorm’s voice reached the hidden apprentice’s ears, “Oatspeckle is a wise cat, she has has been a medicine cat for moons and has interpreted many omens.” The she-cat meowed.

Oatspeckle? Why are they talking about her? Almondpaw puzzled, the older cats continued with their conversation, speaking in low voices.

Almondpaw strained her ears to hear them, and crept closer.

Littlefoot meowed quietly  to Windstorm their heads bent close together, “…one thing is for certain, that apprentice─”

A twig cracked under Almondpaw’s paw. Littlefoot stiffened, his pelt bristling his yellow gaze raked the forest, Almondpaw shrank into her pelt.

Almondpaw backed out of the bush. It was time to get out of here, keeping low and ducking under a low branch she decided to approach them from a different direction. So that they would not suspect anything.

She started walking towards them from the direction of the stream, as if she had gone for a drink.

“hello!” Almondpaw meowed a bit too cheerfully.

Littlefoot narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but eh beckoned to her with his tail, “I want to see your stalking in birch trees today…” he meowed, and Windstorm nodded goodbye to him and disappeared into the trees. Mouth parted for prey.

Almondpaw sighed, another boring day of training.

Appledawn paced outside the medicine cat’s den, her tail twitching nervously. Fallowkit was ill, and pestering her and anxiously keeping a hawk’s gaze on her the golden furred medicine cat had sent the queen out for fresh air.

Sweetkit also was anxious, today was their apprentice ceremony. Almondpaw had visited the sick kit earlier, Ravenpaw said she would live but would probably not be able to be apprenticed for a while. No one had broken the news to Sweetkit yet.

Sweetkit stood some way away from her mother, her pelt bristled with stress, Almondpaw padded over and licked her head comfortingly, “I’m sure she will be fine,” she soothed.

Sweetkit blinked hopefully at her, “You think?”

Almondpaw avoided her gaze, “Yes. I know! We can play a game I used to play with Patchkit!” when Sweetkit shot her a questioning glance Almondpaw felt pain go through her pelt, “she was my sister.” She explained.

Sweetkit rested her tail tip lightly on Almondpaw’s shoulder, blinking sympathetically. “what is the game?”

“Guess your mentor.” Almondpaw meowed.

Sweetkit’s tail bushed excitedly, and she started looking around the clearing expectantly, after a while she blinked “Do you think it’s Oaktail, or maybe Nightecho!”

As the kit guessed, Ravenpaw padded out of the medicine cat entrance and bounded across the clearing, he stopped short of Honeystar’s den. He called out a greeting through the lichen, Honeystar’s head popped out. After a few brief words the leader leaped up unto highrock.

“All cats old enough to hunt their own prey gather around highrock!” her yowl to the sky rang crystal clear over the clearing. Weedpaw and Mumblepaw looked up from where they were sharing a thrush, Nightecho and Flamenose went to sit beneath the highrock, Blackclaw and Windstorm joined them. Larksong sat outside the nursery and watched.

Oaktail, Ambereyes, and Pebblefall entered through the gorse tunnel, prey in their yaws. They quickly deposited the limp bodies in the fresh-kill pile and joined their denmates. Appledawn’s eyes stretched wide, and she whispered, “So soon?” the queen hastily licked at a clump of fur sticking out of Sweetkit’s forehead.

“Appledawn! I’m not a kit anymore!” Sweetkit protested, ducking.

“You need to look your best.” The queen murmured stopping briefly to gaze at the medicine cat den sadly.

Fallowkit had dragged herself to the entrance and was watching, her eyes were red and swollen, her pelt was ruffled and uncleaned, and she coughed weakly.

“Go on Sweetkit, I don’t mind.” Fallowkit croaked.

Sweetkit gazed sadly at her, and bounded over to give her sister’s cheek a lick.

“Sweetkit!” Honeystar called from on top of highrock, beckoning with her tail.

Sweetkit walked with her head and tail high and stood beneath the rock, she glanced nervously at the cats around her.

“Sweetkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Sweetpaw. Your mentor will be Mousetail. I hope Mousetail will pass down all he knows to you.” Honeytail meowed.

Mousetail stepped forwards. Sweetkit gave a bounce of excitement, and leaned forwards for their noses to touch.

“Sweetpaw! Sweetpaw!” cheered Thunderclan.

Appledawn bounded forwards and nuzzled Sweetkit, her father Pebblefall did the same.

The clan parted, back to their original duties.

Almondpaw felt a pang of pain in her chest, and she looked away. Shaking her head to get rid of her thoughts she padded to the apprentices’ den. Maybe she needed a nap.

But sleep was impossible, the bracken felt as if were pricking her  with thousands of thorns. And turning and twisting made it even worse.

With a growl of frustration Almondpaw sat up, her thoughts wandered back to what Littlefoot had been talking with Windstorm.

What does it mean to beware of that apprentice? Which apprentice, Weedpaw, Mumblepaw? Sweetpaw? Or me… Almondpaw bristled, did they think she was dangerous? How could that be, and if it had to do something with Oatspeckle…she needed to find out, right now.

CHAPTER 3

Getting up from her nest and crossing the hollow, Almondpaw entered the medicine cat’s den. Her nose twitched at the sharp scent of herbs. Oatspeckle was chewing some leaves into pulp, and feeding them to Fallowkit, who looked exhausted.

“Oatspeckle, can I talk to you?” Almondpaw asked quietly, the medicine looked up gravely. As if she could sense where this was leading to.

The she-cats padded out of reach of Fallowkit’s hearing reach, even though the kit didn’t seem aware that another cat had entered.

“Is Fallowkit alright?” Almondpaw whispered.

Oatspeckle nodded, “Yes, since it is new-leaf we have all the herbs needed. Though this is not what you came to tell me.” Her amber gaze searched questioningly into Almondpaw’s green eyes.

Suddenly, Almondpaw heard herself telling the medicine cat everything. Blurting out of the Shadowclan accident, what she overheard of Littlefoot telling Windstorm, and how she felt when Sweetkit was having her ceremony.

Oatspeckle listened patiently, and then spoke in a low voice, “I cannot tell you everything, for somethings you must figure out yourself. It’s not easy to have all your kin dead, but I think Starclan is stirring somethings inside of you. Be patient, all will turn well.”

Almondpaw felt a surge of relief to tell someone all her worries, maybe Oatspeckle wasn’t as crazy as she thought. Almondpaw blinked at the she-cat and turned to leave, as she padded out she glanced back. Oatspeckle seemed deep in thought, she seemed to be looking at something else, and her eyes widened and her pelt trembled in fear. Almondpaw was about to hurry towards her to see if she was alright, but the medicine cat blinked, and she was out of her trance.

A cold claw traveled down Almondpaw’s spine.

Shrugging it off she padded out to the clearing.

“Hey, Almondpaw!” Weedpaw hurried towards her.

Almondpaw stiffened a growl of frustration, “Yes?”

“I was thinking of going hunting, the fresh-kill pile seems a bit low.” Weedpaw meowed, shifting his paws.

Almondpaw was about to point out that three hunting patrols had gone out, but changed her mind. “Sure, I’ll come, let’s bring…” her eyes searched the clearing, maybe hunting would help. But she did not want to be alone with Weedpaw. “Nightecho! Nightecho, we are going hunting! Wanna come?”

The tom looked at her in surprise, his blue gaze piercing her pelt, “Okay.”

The trio headed out of camp. Almondpaw bounded up the ravine and open her mouth to taste the air, and spotted a vole nearby.

Not many wander this far into the forest. Almondpaw flicked her tail for her denmates to keep quiet, creeping forwards and treading lightly as though not to disturb leaves. Wiggling her haunches, she pounced.

Satisfaction traveled through her pelt as her claws dug into flesh. The animal struggled beneath her, Almondpaw ripped it’s stomach open, the creature moaned in pain. That’s what you get for messing with me.

“Almondpaw!” Weedpaw’s eyes were wide with shock.

“What?” Almondpaw asked, the vole made another feeble struggle.

“It’s suffering!” Weedpaw launched himself forward and bit the vole’s spine.

“Why did you do that for?” Almondpaw demanded, leaping to her paws bristling.

“It’s against the warrior code to attack defensive cats.” Weedpaw glared at Almondpaw.

“First thing it’s not a cat. Second, when did you become a medicine cat?” Almondpaw snarled, immediately regretting her words.

Weedpaw narrowed his eyes, and grabbed the vole in his yaws. He bounded down back to camp. Almondpaw was about to call after him to give back her prey, but she decided not to. What was wrong with that dumb apprentice? It was only a vole!

Nightecho had been watching the argument silently, and now her turned his blue gaze to Almondpaw, making her pelt prickle uncomfortably, but did not say anything. He ran after Weedpaw.

“Mouse-brains.” Almondpaw muttered, glancing after them in disdain. The vole’s blood splattered her paws.

“Tonight is the gathering!” Weedpaw meowed excitedly to Mumblepaw.

Duh. Almondpaw had avoided him ever since the encounter with the vole, but now she missed being able to talk freely with her clanmates. Something seemed to have drawned her away from clan life, and she found herself staring into the distance more than once during the day. Littlefoot was very annoyed.

“Concentrate! Tuck your paws tighter!” Littlefoot meowed sharply, they were in the training hollow. Practicing battle moves.

Almondpaw obeyed, and kept her eyes on the leaf in front of her.

“Now, lift your tail a bit higher for balance.” Littlefoot instructed.

I’m not a brand-new apprentice! With a yowl she leaped into the air and landed on the leaf neatly, crushing it beneath her paws.

Littlefoot, Honeypelt, and Pebblefall looked impressed. Though her mentor wasn’t going to admit it yet.

“Use your leg muscles! Try again!” Littlefoot ordered.

That’s what Almondpaw loved about her mentor, he always gave her challenge and little praise. Not fussing about what a wonderful warrior she would be, always on duty. This trained Almondpaw to work harder for little.

As Almondpaw crouched again, and Littlefoot placed a new leaf in front of her, the ferns rustled.

Honeystar emereged from the bushes, the apprentices watched wide-eyed as the leader sat down and tucked her paws underneath her.

Mumblepaw straightened, Weedpaw licked his pelt self-conscious, and Almondpaw fixed her paws positions. The clan leader was watching!
“Pounce again!” Meowed Littlefoot.

Almondpaw bunched her legs underneath her and leaped, landing as neatly and with as much force as the first time. Her green eyes glittered as she awaited Littlefoot’s aprooval.

Honeystar’s eyes narrowed, she stood up. “Littlefoot if you do not mind, I will train Almondpaw for today.” She meowed evenly.

Littlefoot looked surprised, but dipped his head.

“I would be honored.” Almondpaw meowed, excitement fizzled through her. Being trained by Honeystar!

The leader motioned for Almondpaw to follow, and headed towards the great sycamore. They walked in silence through the trees, prey scuttled, branches swayed, a fox barked in the distance. When they reached the base of the tree Honeystar sat down.

“We need to talk, Almondpaw.” Honeystar meowed.

Almondpaw blinked in surprise, so this wasn’t an assentment or training.

“Oatspeckle has had an omen…” Honeystar began, “It showed an almond, growing in the middle of the camp, then it grew non stop. It covered the clearing and smothered it. We do not know what it means, and we all have been keeping an eye out for you.”

So that’s what Littlefoot was talking about, beware of that apprentice. It’s me. Almondpaw blinked, “Does it mean anything, anything at all?” Wow! Starclan sent an omen about her.

“It may be that it means you will nurioush and be a great warrior, maybe a potential leader. Or it may mean that we will be prey-full and the forest will be plentiful.” Honeystar flicked her ears.

Almondstar? This was getting weirder by the second, Almondpaw twitched her tail nervously, “Can I go back to the sandy hollow?” she asked.

“No. I meant what I said about training you, I want you to get two mice and a squirrel.” Honeystar got up, and ran her tail over Almondpaw’s spine, then she disappeared into the bushes.

Tricky. Almondpaw was up to the challenge, making sure that her hunting moves were perfect incase Honeystar was watching her, she trotted off under the trees. Ears alert, mouth opened for scents

CHAPTER 4