The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

24. Confessions

     "That's not right. If you simply jump over, you keep your belly exposed!"

Scorchpaw watched as Fang paced back and forth in front of Poppy, the fur along her neck prickling upwards. The she-cat eyed her kin with scrutiny. "Twist in midair. You'll confuse the enemy and protect most of your belly." Poppy's eyes widened with uncertainty, and the one-eyed rogue flicked the tip of her tail and turned to Scorchpaw. He forced down a shudder at the sight of her face, claw scars reaching from her forehead to her chin. Her fur was brushed over the hole, where her eye had been torn so badly that it would have been a danger to simply leave in its socket. "Come here."

Scorchpaw didn't hesitate. Two days ago, Helen had dragged him into a dangerous plan to spy, and now, it was all he could think of. I can't let her see that I'm worried. She'll figure it out if she does. He stepped up to the rogue, who looked down upon him with her single eye inspecting him. "You look uneasy."

"I'm worried about my mentor," He mewed. It wasn't the entire truth, but it was close enough. The day before, Redwing had entered camp with a horrid gash on her neck and scratches on her side. She had been attacked by rogues. Now, Scorchpaw would be trained by Ashtail. "She was hurt."

Understanding flickered in Fang's shallow gaze, but she stiffened and raised her head, looking down on him like prey. "Forget Redwing. What has she done for you?" Then, her voice softened. "She will be fine, I'm certain. There's no need to worry about her. For now, you should worry about training."

"Of course," Scorchpaw replied. Poppy tilted her head as she looked at him, sympathy in her innocent amber gaze. It's hard to believe that she's fighting to destroy my Clan. He looked away, and he immediately regretted the coldness of his actions. He faked a cough and looked back to her, trying to brighten his expression for her. In no way did he want to hurt the young cat's feelings. It's so hard to believe it that I have to wonder how she really feels.

"Scorchpaw, attack Poppy. Poppy, jump over him and do your best to twist. If you can do it right, you can keep your belly out of his reach and land on his back," Fang instructed, sitting back to watch. "Hold nothing back, but don't use claws. We can't risk injuries."

You mean that Poppy can't risk injuries. You couldn't care any less about me. Scorchpaw crouched and bunched the muscles in his hind legs, readying himself to lunge at the smaller rogue. He narrowed his eyes at her, and after a deep breath, he shot forward, stretching his paws out. Poppy leaned over him and struggled to turn, and he reacted by reaching up and wrapping his paws around her, dragging her down onto him. They both yelped, and she squirmed as he pinned her.

Poppy burst out laughing, and for a moment, he couldn't help but do the same. "You're as slow as a snail with a broken leg!" He purred.

Poppy beamed at him and batted at his belly. "Snails don't have legs at all!"

"Take this seriously," Fang scolded. "If this had been a real battle, he could have killed you! You didn't even twist right!"

Poppy wriggled out of Scorchpaw's grip and peered up at Fang. Is that defiance in her eyes? Scorchpaw's pelt itched as Poppy spoke. "I'm not going to use this twisting thing in battle. It's too risky!"

Fang bared her teeth at her kin. "Even if you don't use it in battle, it's a useful tactic. It can save your life if you know how to turn!" When Poppy looked puzzled, the tabby rogue growled. "Twisting can do more than turn you around in a battle. It can save you when you fall from a tree, so you land on your paws and survive! You use your tail to balance and your shoulders to weigh yourself!"

"It would have been easier if you'd explained how to do it," Poppy grumbled. Fang huffed and turned to Scorchpaw.

"You try it. Use your shoulders for weight and try to land on her." She sniffed. "And that was good thinking, pulling her out of the air. You could learn from him, Poppy."