Scourge's Second Chance

Chapter 8 - Sandy Hollow

"Icepaw?" Longtail's voice floated into the apprentices' den. "Today's the first day of your training! Get up, we have to trek to the Sandy Hollow."

Icepaw raised himself up on three paws. His fourth still ached, and it was wrapped up in cobwebs. He tried to rush out of camp with Longtail, but Spottedleaf intercepted him. "Icepaw?" she asked. "Let me take off those cobwebs, okay?"

Icepaw dragged himself over, sighing. "Fine," he groaned. "Take them off."

Spottedleaf peeled back the cobwebs to reveal a perfectly healed paw. Icepaw grinned and stumbled back to Longtail.

"How ya doing, Icepaw?" he asked. "All right?"

"I'm good," Icepaw mewed. "Let's go."

Longtail turned and Icepaw followed him, trying to memorize the path from the camp to the hollow. It was only a short way, but compared to what Scourge had seen every day, the trees all looked the same. He noted one nurse log, but nothing else. Forward, left, right, forward. Jump over the ditch, around the pond, through the ditch, right, forward, left... it went on and on, seemingly forever, even though Icepaw knew it wasn't really that long of a transition. He admired Longtail's sharp eyes and easy navigation of the trail. He stumbled along behind. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, they stopped. A large, sunken patch of sunlight stood in their way. It was filled to the top with a coarse, brownish-yellow... dirt... but it was grainier. 

Longtail noticed his confusion and smiled. "It's gravel, Icepaw," he laughed.

"Oh," Icepaw mewed, he could feel blood rushing to his face. "Yes." Luckily, cats couldn't see it when other cats blushed. 

"Come on," Longtail said. "We're fighting today, Icepaw."

Icepaw shuddered, but he also smiled. This was the beginning of his new legacy - as a cat of ThunderClan.

"Icepaw?" Longtail's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. "Come, we've got practice to do." Longtail flicked his ear impatiently.

Icepaw strolled over, blinking his icy eyes. He unsheathed his claws, scraping them roughly against the gravel. Skritch, scratch.

"Icepaw, why are you unsheathing your claws?" Longtail asked, alarmed. "We practice with our claws sheathed."

Icepaw nodded. That was a big mistake.