The Clash of Stars Book 1: The Key

Chapter 7: Ghostpaw

Ghostpaw hit the ground yet again, biting back a growl as the grass tickled his nose.

"Come on, get up!" a voice above him meowed. "You can do this. It's a simple defensive move."

Ghostpaw winced as he got to his paws, facing his mentor, Blazefang. The dark ginger molly's tail twitched with impatience as she waited for him to right himself. They'd been training all morning, and, to be frank, he was starting to feel a bit bruised. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn't keep up with her.

Defensive move, Ghostpaw thought bitterly, because I'm hopeless at actually landing an attack of my own.

"Can't we try hunting or something instead?" Ghostpaw asked. "I'm okay at that. I think a sparrow really listened to me the other day!" He wondered if a cool name like Ghostsparrow would be fitting for him.

Blazefang snorted. "I doubt that," she said. She opened her jaws to make a chirping sound, one that would sound strange coming from her mouth to any cat outside of AmberClan. After a moment, the trees above them rustled, and a robin flew down from them. It hovered for a moment, and then promptly dive-bombed Ghostpaw.

He yelped in surprise and leapt away, flinching as the bird's small — yet sharp — beak pecked at his face.

Once it let up, Ghostpaw was able to see Blazefang again, who looked quite embarrassed. "Sorry, that probably wasn't the smartest idea," she admitted. "I thought maybe instinct would kick in."

Ghostpaw watched dejectedly as the robin fluttered back to disappear in the forest. While AmberClan did hunt, just like any other Clan (they were still cats, after all!), they never called upon animals to kill them. It was considered disrespectful to trick prey animals in that way, and break the trust the Clan had built with the local fauna. Of course, if a warrior or scout hunted prey later, without using their abilities to speak to it, that was a different story; prey deserved the chance to try and survive, now matter how slim its chances were.

Blazefang trotted over and nudged her apprentice. "Come on, Ghostpaw, you'll get the move soon."

"No, I won't," Ghostpaw grumbled. "Maybe I should've become a scout like Woollypaw."

"What do you mean?" Blazefang meowed.

"I can't manage any part of being a warrior!" Ghostpaw burst out. "I'm no good at fighting, and I can only just manage at hunting. I can't even talk to animals."

At the last part, Blazefang purred. "Well, of course you can't!" she remarked. "You've only been training for two moons!"

"Woollypaw can talk to weasels," Ghostpaw pointed out. "And they bring him prey!"

Blazefang looked a bit lost on how to reassure him for a moment. She opened her mouth to reply, but then the bushes nearby rustled. Ghostpaw looked up, heart sinking as he watched a fluffy gray tom trot into the clearing, a finch in his jaws. A moment later, his mentor, Squirrelwatcher, followed.

"Hey, Ghostpaw!" Woollypaw greeted. He paused, seeming to sense the tension in the air. "Is everything okay?"

"Did one of your weasels catch you that?" Ghostpaw meowed scornfully, nodding to the finch.

Woollypaw frowned. "No, I actually caught this one all by myself." He blinked. "Did you have a bad training session?"

Ghostpaw fumed as he heard Blazefang's sympathetic mew. "He's having a hard time learning some combat moves," she said. "He shouldn't be taking it out on you, though."