Painted by Smoke

Chapter 12

Cloverpaw POV:

I feel apprehension welling within me as we approach the border with ThunderClan. My father is doing what he promised he would as soon as I became an apprentice. Now that I am allowed to leave camp, he saw this as the perfect opportunity. Buzzardpaw is clearly oblivious to the dangers of doing this. He seems to almost be excited. His childishness extends quite far, and he has never quite been all there in the head. His mentor, Shellfoot, isn't very different, to be honest. Both are quite stupid, though Shellfoot is lazier. Shellfoot and Tumbletooth, my mentor, are on patrol with Bearshade. The three of us were on patrol with them, too, but Father pulled us aside early and took us towards the border, where we are heading now. Somehow, I have the feeling that the other three on patrol know what we are doing, but they said nothing about it. This only adds to my anxiety. Father also knows that there would be no other cats out at this hour, for we are on the dawn patrol. I know that if this goes wrong, no cat would ever know. This makes my paws feel cold and clammy despite the late Greenleaf heat.

They are already waiting when we reach the border. Nightstalker's bright yellow-green eyes are glowing in the dark shadows of the thick undergrowth on their side of the border. His stare makes my pelt prickle. It is difficult to see him, but I know he is all black. A smaller cat, an almost exact replica of him, is sitting beside him. She matches his stare perfectly. Both sit perfectly straight and look menacing concealed in the shadows as they are. There is a third cat present on their side. She is slightly smaller than the small black cat, a long-haired black and gray she-cat. Father looks surprised to see her, and Nightstalker seems to disapprove of her presence. To me, it is just another set of glowing eyes watching my every move, deciding my fate. Deciding whether I live or die.

Father bows his head respectfully to Nightstalker and motions for us to do the same. I dip my head slightly, not wanting to take my eyes off of them for fear that they may do something to me. I have heard of their reputations, and I have never felt more nervous in my life. Whether or not Buzzardpaw bows as well, I do not know, but I can assume he does. He follows most instructions blindly. Nightstalker does not return the gesture. He hardly acknowledges my father's presence at all. Instead, he motions for the smaller black cat to step forward and do... something. When she steps out of the shadows and across the border, I see that she is about our age. This only slightly helps to put me at ease. Whether or not this is her intention, I am not sure. Her firm glare shifts between the two of us, almost as if inspecting us. I look up to Father, though I am not expecting any help from him. He motions for me to sit up straight and look straight ahead. I do, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Buzzardpaw do the same. He has gone cross-eyed, and he looks like the wind could knock him over.

As the black she-cat inspects us, I feel my apprehensions rising. What does she want to do with us? She comes closer, and I hold my breath. I notice that her claws are unsheathed. My heart begins to beat faster and faster until I think it might beat out of my chest. She circles me once before raising one claw and poking me firmly in the side. It was enough to hurt, but not enough to draw blood. It takes all of my self-control not to flinch. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she turns her attention to Buzzardpaw. I breathe a sigh of relief. It doesn't last long, however, because she is soon done inspecting my brother. She stands in front of us and sits neatly again in her terrifying way. She opens her mouth, and I see her teeth glinting in the dim light of the rising sun. "Rise," she commands, "And bow before your new commander, Darkpaw."