“What in StarClan were you doing?” The branch slapped down in the water as Lionpaw let go of the other end. “I saw you disappear under the water and I thought you were trying to drown yourself. Then I realized you were dragging this! I don’t know how you thought you were going to get it out on your own.”
The water lapped around the stick. Jaypaw ran his paw over it, searching out the scratches. He wished the stick was not so big, that he could take it back to camp with him.
“Look,” he breathed, running his paw over the marks.
“You half drown yourself in the middle of the night for a stick with claw marks on it!” Water sprayed from Lionpaw as he shook himself. “You’re crazy.”
“I’m not,” Jaypaw snapped hotly. “It’s important.”
“Come on,” he mewed. “Let’s get this tucked under a root and get back to camp.”
The wagtail, which had whisked away from Lionpaw’s outstretched paws only moments earlier, perched on a branch above the training hollow and called an alarm before fluttering away into the trees.
Lionpaw hung his head. He should have caught it, but his paws felt like stones. “Sorry.” The midnight trek to the beach with Jaypaw had left him exhausted. He quivered with irritation. He had left Heatherpaw early last night so he could catch up on his sleep. Why had Jaypaw dragged him out to the lake instead of letting him rest?
“You’re lumbering around like a badger today,” Ashfur scolded.
Spiderleg and Mousepaw padded out of the ferns with Honeypaw and Sandstorm.
“More like a hibernating hedgehog!” Mousepaw teased.
Lionpaw glared at his denmate.
Honeypaw flicked her tail at Mousepaw. “It wasn’t long ago you missed a squirrel,” she reminded him.
Lionpaw’s ears grew hot. He didn’t need Honeypaw to defend him.
“Honeypaw’s right.” Spiderleg nudged Mousepaw’s shoulder with his muzzle. “And your climbing could use some practice.”
Mousepaw flattened his ears. “Well, let’s go practice, then!”
“You’d better not try the Sky Oak!” Honeypaw called out as the two cats headed for the trees. Mousepaw’s tail quivered with annoyance as it disappeared into the undergrowth.
Sandstorm turned to her apprentice. “Come on, Honeypaw, we’ll see if there are any mice around the old beech.”
“Can we come too?” Ashfur looked pointedly at Lionpaw.
“I don’t think we’ll find many birds around here now.”
“Of course.” Sandstorm bounded up the slope out of the hollow and then headed into the trees. Ashfur hurried to catch her up.
“Don’t worry,” Honeypaw whispered, falling in beside Lionpaw. “I missed a sparrow yesterday.”
Lionpaw snorted and hurried ahead of her, bristling.
The ground beneath the beech was littered with empty husks. This was a great place for hunting mice attracted by the ready supply of beechnuts. Lionpaw pushed ahead of Honeypaw into the ferns that ringed the open ground beneath the tree. Ashfur and Sandstorm were waiting for them, sat beneath the arching fronds.
“Let’s hope we manage to catch something
“They won’t!” Lionpaw snapped. Why couldn’t Ashfur give him advice instead of pointing out his mistakes?
“Look!” Honeypaw jerked her head toward the clearing. A mouse was sitting between the snaking roots of the beech, a nut between its forepaws. It was busy nibbling at the shell.
“That’ll be easy to catch.” She blinked encouragingly at Lionpaw. “It doesn’t even know we’re here.”
“Why don’t you catch it, then?” he hissed.
Honeypaw’s eyes clouded. “I thought you might want the chance.”
“I don’t need help!” Lionpaw snapped. Did she think he was a helpless kit?
Honeypaw dropped her gaze and he felt guilty. She had only been trying to help. He turned and peered out of the undergrowth. He’d catch the mouse to show her he was sorry.
But it had gone.
Something else was stirring the leaves only a few tail-lengths away. Lionpaw dropped into a hunting crouch.
Willing away the tiredness that made his limbs feel as heavy as wet wood, he began to creep forward. The leaves moved again and a tiny nose peeked out. Tensing every muscle, Lionpaw prepared to leap.
“Keep your tail down!” Ashfur hissed.
Lionpaw pressed his haunches down harder to the ground.
Then he darted forward.
He wasn’t fast enough. The vole scuttled beneath a root.
Lionpaw glanced at Ashfur, expecting some comment, a word of advice or even disappointment, but his mentor turned away without saying anything.
Brambleclaw looked up as Lionpaw followed Ashfur into camp. The ThunderClan deputy’s eyes narrowed as Ashfur dropped two mice and a sparrow onto the fresh-kill pile.
Lionpaw had nothing to offer.
“Prey still running?” Brambleclaw padded over to them.
“There’s certainly plenty around,” Ashfur commented.
