Bloodflower

Chapter 23

"So the squirrel makes this huge leap into the branches of the next tree. It was three fox-lengths, at least."

Rosepaw nodded, murmuring for Brokenstem to continue as she parted his fur with her paws, looking for ticks. He was the last elder left before she was done with tick duty, which she had been given so she had something to do while she was injured. But this isn't what I imagined doing when I asked Grayleaf to give me something to do, she groaned inwardly, feeling sick as she smelled the moss dipped in mouse bile.

"Cherryfur had only been an apprentice for less than two moons," the elder went on. "She was only just beginning to learn how to climb trees. Nonetheless, this mouse-brained cat decided to follow the squirrel and jump to the next tree too."

"Seriously?" Rosepaw gasped. "I wouldn't dare do that! Did she fall?"

"She actually didn't," Brokenstem snorted, his eyes clouded with the memory. "She landed perfectly and caught the squirrel before it could get away again. I'd never seen a cat so young pull off something like that—I'd bet it was because she had been out practicing on her own to prove herself!"

"She must have been very proud of that catch," Rosepaw commented.

"Oh, she was," Brokenstem purred. "All the other apprentices shared the squirrel with her. They treated her like a hero—let her have the first bite and everything."

Rosepaw laughed. "Sounds fun." She was mildly surprised that the tabby elder didn't seem to have any ticks. "You were right. I'm not seeing any ticks."

"Thanks for checking anyways," Brokenstem responded. "Now off you go, youngster. I hope your wounds heal well!"

After mewing quick farewells to the three elders, Rosepaw padded out of their den, narrowing her eyes against the late afternoon sunshine.

Most of the Clan was gathered cheerfully around the fresh-kill pile to pick their meals. She noticed several cats huddling together for warmth as they waited for their turns; her own fur was fluffed up against the chill. Above her, the leaves on many of the trees were turning pretty shades of red and ginger, and some were already drifting lazily to the ground.

The forest must look so beautiful when leaf-fall starts, she mused. Her eyes were drawn to Beestripe, who was organizing a sunset border patrol. Maybe I should try and get on the border patrol so I can see it all.

She bounded toward the deputy. "Hi," she mewed. "Is it okay if I join the patrol, please?"

Beestripe blinked, silent for a moment, then nodded. "Sure. Pineclaw will come too, then."

Rosepaw noticed her mentor sitting nearby, and padded over to join him while they waited for the rest of the patrol to be chosen.

He briefly touched his nose to her ear. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better," she answered. "My new scratches barely hurt, and the fur on my shoulder is growing back. You can barely see the wound now." She looked at Pineclaw's flank, where his biggest wound was. "How does that feel?" She remembered what he had said to her the last time she mentioned the injury. If it means saving your life, then all the wounds in the world are worth it. Her pelt still tingled with pleasure at the thought.

"Sore," Pineclaw admitted, "but better than before. Grayleaf said I was fit to go back to warrior duties, but not battle training unless some other cat does the demonstrations."

"At least it's healing, and not infected," Rosepaw meowed. Feeling bold, she added, "I wouldn't want to have any other cat as my mentor."

Pineclaw blinked warmly at her, purring softly. She returned the gesture happily, noticing a few other nearby cats gazing at them with mild amusement. They must think it's obvious that we like each other. And it probably is!