Cinders to Flames

Chapter 13

"I want you to meet someone."

Cinderpaw had been woken very early in the morning when the camp was still eerily quiet and cats still breathed softly in their nests. Blackpaw led her out of the camp and in the direction of the Twolegplace. Cinderpaw was not sure why she had agreed, out of curiosity, maybe, or out of friendship and a little bit of guilt from not listening to Blackpaw sooner.

"If we get caught, it's your fault." Cinderpaw meowed as they walked through the Forest Path.

"You don't have much to say, you sneak through the camp every third sunrise to train with rouges." Blackpaw meowed jokingly, but his humorous tone didn't quite hide the bitterness in his voice.

"Fair point." Cinderpaw agreed sourly, and she spotted guilt in Blackpaw's amber eyes.

"We're here." Blackpaw halted at the edge of the Thunderpath. The black path was silent, and thick fog blanketed the Twolegplace, so they could only see a faint silhouette of the tall boxy nests. The ground was wet and muddy, and Cinderpaw's claws sunk deep into the soil in anticipation. Her ear twitched as she caught a sound from towards the Twolegplace. A cat strode out from the fog, but the musty smell in the air blocked the stranger's scent. Blackpaw raced to the cat, who Cinderpaw finally smelt was a tom, and they touched muzzles, purring with delight. Blackpaw stepped away from the tom, and motioned for Cinderpaw to step forwards. She walked over to the two toms, and dipped her head to the stranger.

"This is my dad, Wing," Blackpaw meowed to her. "This is my best friend, Cinderpaw," he said to Wing.

"I've heard a lot about you," Wing meowed. He had cream coloured fur with white ears and tail. His eyes were the same warm amber as Blackpaw's and he had a general friendly vibe and his voice was quiet, but somehow powerful with every word.

"Wiiing," Blackpaw complained, and Cinderpaw laughed when she saw his embarrassment.

"What?" Wing asked, feigning innocence with his amber eyes wide.

"You're so annoying." Blackpaw mumbled under his breath.

"Has Blackpaw been a good boy?" Wing asked, ruffling his son's fur with a raised paw.

"He's been very good," Cinderpaw meowed, and she couldn't help but smile when Blackpaw gave her a fiery glare. "Hmm, except for when you forgot to change the elder's bedding." She added boldly.

"That was once!" He cried.

"And when you called Wolfpaw fat," she continued.

"Hey, you promised to never speak of that!"

"I can't lie to your dad," Cinderpaw meowed, flicking her ear. "I could go on forever."

"Fine, Cinderpaw will keep quiet if you catch me a mouse." Wing meowed.

"Okay, I'll catch you a mouse. But shut up for StarClan's sake," he grumbled, racing off with his nose in the air, trying to catch a scent.

"Finally, he's gone. He's a real pawful." Wing meowed.

Cinderpaw laughed bitterly. "He's an angel compared to me." She stared off into the fog for a moment. "Blackpaw has been taking care of me very well. He deserves much better for sure." Cinderpaw meowed sadly.

"He speaks very highly of you." Wing replied.

"Does he? Well, you'd have to, to stick with me for as long as he has."

"I hope you look after him for me." Wing meowed, his mew sad.

Blackpaw raced up to them with a mouse dangling proudly in his jaws. Wing ate hungrily, and stretched his limbs when he was done.