Chapter 5

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"Hey, Sandpaw, wake up!" Silverpaw's meow broke into Sandpaw's dream. He had been chasing a squirrel, up and up, into the topmost branches of a tall oak.

"Training begins at sunrise. Fernpaw and Firepaw are already up," Silverpaw added urgently.

Sandpaw stretched sleepily, then remembered: today was his first day of training. He leaped to his paws. His drowsiness evaporated as excitement surged through his veins.

Silverpaw was giving himself a hasty wash. Between licks, he meowed, "I've just spoken to Frostfur. Patchpaw won't be training with us till her wound is better. She'll probably stay at Spottedleaf's den for another day or two. Fernpaw and Firepaw are on hunting duty. So Frostfur thought you and I could train with him and Goldenflower this morning. We'd better hurry, though," he added. "They'll be waiting!"

Silverpaw led Sandpaw quickly through the gorse entrance of the camp and up the side of the rock-strewn valley. As they climbed over the crest of the ravine, a cool breeze ruffled their fur. Fat, white clouds raced across the blue sky overhead. Sandpaw felt fierce joy well up inside him as he followed Silverpaw down a tree-shaded slope and into a sandy hollow.

Goldenflower and Frostfur were indeed waiting, sitting a few tail-lengths apart on the sun-warmed sand.

"In future, I expect you both to be punctual," growled Goldenflower.

"Don't be too severe, Goldenflower; it was a busy night last night. I expect they were tired," meowed Frostfur gently. "You have not yet been assigned a mentor, Sandpaw," he went on. "For now, Goldenflower and I will share your training."

Sandpaw nodded enthusiastically, his tail held high, unable to disguise his delight at having two such great warriors as his mentors.

"Come," meowed Goldenflower impatiently. "Today we are going to show you the edges of our territory, so that you know where you will be hunting and what boundaries you need to protect. Silverpaw, it won't do you any harm to remind yourself of the Clan's outer limits."

Without another word, Goldenflower leaped up and bounded out of the sandy hollow. Frostfur nodded to Silverpaw and they took off with equal speed. Sandpaw scrambled after them, his paws slipping on the soft sand.

The trees were thick in this part of the forest, birch and ash trees overshadowed by mighty oaks. The ground was carpeted with crisp dead leaves that rustled beneath their paws. Goldenflower paused to spray his scent on a thick clump of ferns. The other cats stopped beside him.

"There is a Twoleg path here," murmured Frostfur. "Use your nose, Sandpaw. Can you smell anything?"

Sandpaw sniffed. There was the faint scent of a Twoleg, and the stronger smell of a dog, familiar to him from his old home. "A Twoleg has walked his dog along here, but they are gone now," he mewed.

"Good," meowed Frostfur. "Do you think it is safe to cross?"

Sandpaw sniffed again. The odors were weak and seemed overlaid with fresher forest smells. "Yes," he replied.

Goldenflower nodded, and the four cats stalked out from beneath the ferns and crossed the sharp stones of the narrow Twoleg path.

The trees beyond were pine. They grew tall and straight, row after row. It was easy to walk silently here. The ground was thick with layers of dead needles, which prickled against Sandpaw's pads but felt spongy underneath. There was no undergrowth here to hide in, and Sandpaw sensed tension in the other cats as they stalked unprotected between the tree trunks.

"Twolegs put these trees here," meowed Goldenflower. "They cut them down with foul-smelling creatures, which spew enough fumes to make a kit go blind. Then they take the fallen trees to the Treecut place that lies near here."

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