The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

49. Warriors and Names

     The Clan was upbeat, much of it thanks to Shadowclaw’s good mood. He doted over Rosepetal and his new kits almost constantly, growing excited over every movement they made. They were still without names, but they were still very young. Only three days had passed, after all. 
     Even Sandfoot seemed cheerful, emerging to visit the kits. Palepaw guessed that he was happy to have someone to soon chase after him, yearning for his attention. They’ll be good company. 
     Palepaw noticed, however, that Echolight did not share the enthusiasm. She seemed forlorn any time she looked at them, as though they had brought some great loss. No amount of congratulations on her new name or praise for her work would draw her out of it.  
     Scorchpaw, on the other end, was beginning to pick up the pieces after the battle. He still visited Sparrow’s grave, but he was no longer sulking. Sometimes, he even seemed content and at peace as he shared a piece of prey with Poppy. Just that morning, Palepaw had heard Scorchpaw teaching the Code to Poppy, and explaining different traditions of Clan life. 
     He thinks he’ll make her a Clancat. But with all the effort she’s putting in, she might actually make it. It was rare that Poppy wasn’t doing something to help. She had taken on a variety of apprentice duties, helping to clean out dens and fetch prey. She caught plenty as well, her skills honed by the necessity to succeed in every catch. Palepaw wasn’t surprised to see her glower at Yellowfoot, who tossed aside half of a magpie. 
     Palepaw couldn’t help but feel a small fondness for the former rogue. She had, after all, helped them to win the battle, and she was helping Scorchpaw to stop his moping. She was a helpful cat, and kind enough. The thought of Scorchpaw forming a romantic relationship still nagged at Palepaw, but he shoved it away. He had little room to judge. 
     “-and Palepaw will go with-“ 
     Palepaw’s ears perked, and he turned to face his mentor. Shadowclaw looked indecisive. “Actually, no. Scorchpaw will go with Miststep.” 
     “I’ll get him,” Miststep said. 
     “He’s still pining over that rogue,” Froststrike grumbled.  
     Goldstreak promptly jabbed him with one paw. “She’s part of our Clan.” 
     Froststrike did not look convinced. “She’s a rogue. She won’t stay long. She’ll just break his heart.” 
     Palepaw rolled his eyes and sat down, licking his paw and running it over his ears. He thought of Spottedpaw in the battle, and how Claypaw had attacked him. I hope she’s alright. He, on the other paw- He wanted to cuff that mouse-brained fishercat over the ears.  
     “Palepaw! We’re going on a patrol,” Tidefoot meowed, nudging him. Palepaw jumped in his pelt and nodded. 
     “Where to?” 
     “WaterClan’s border. Stormstripe is coming with us. He’s waiting outside the camp.” 
     That’s convenient! Palepaw jumped to his paws and trotted alongside Tidefoot, shoving through the briar tunnel. I wonder what Spottedpaw’s new name is.  
     The river was calm now that the rains had drained, leaving the water green rather than brown, reflecting the reeds and sunlight that covered it. Palepaw angled his ears, waiting for some kind of sign. The crossing tree was just in sight. 
     “Go mark that tree,” Tidefoot ordered, and Stormstripe dashed off into the brush. “Palepaw,” Tidefoot hissed. “Smell that?” 
     Palepaw blinked and opened his jaws, breathing in as much as he could. WaterClan! “But- we’re not downwind, are we?” 
     Tidefoot’s ears flattened and he stalked towards the reeds. Palepaw followed, claws tingling. They’re on our territory! 
     Tidefoot brushed aside the reeds, his ears perking. “WaterClan apprentices seem to cross quite a bit, don’t they? Come out, now.” 
     Slowly, a ginger apprentice emerged, a small mouse dangling from her jaws. She dropped it and flattened herself to the ground. “I’m sorry-“ 
     “You were stealing prey,” Tidefoot scolded. “You’re obviously young, but even a small kit would know better.” 
     “I’m really sorry. I ran across the log, but panicked when I saw your patrol,” the young cat mewed. “You can have the mouse. It’s not-“ 
     “Smokepaw!” A brown tom called, followed by a female warrior and another very young apprentice. “What are you doing?” He hissed accusingly, glaring at Tidefoot as he leaped onto the log. 
     “She crossed the border and caught prey on our side of the log,” Tidefoot explained. 
     The WaterClan warrior’s ears flattened. “Get away from her before-“ 
     “We don’t want a fight,” Stormstripe said calmly, padding beside Tidefoot.  
     The other warrior brushed past her Clanmate. “Reedtail, stop bristling.” 
     Reedtail lashed his tail. “Give me back my apprentice.” 
     Tidefoot dipped his head. “Of course.” He turned to Smokepaw. “Don’t do it again, or I’ll cuff your ears. Take your mouse and go.” 
     Smokepaw’s eyes grew wide. “It’s my first catch. Thank you.” She snatched it up and hopped onto the log, hurrying past Reedtail. 
     “Thank you for being collected, Poppywings,” Tidefoot purred. 
     “Tell Yellowfoot that I said hello,” the she-cat meowed, then looking to her own apprentice. “Come on, Longpaw.” 
     “May StarClan light your path,” Tidefoot called as the cats started away. Palepaw stared into the trees. Another cat waited for them. 
     Spottedpaw!  
     “You’d think they’d teach their apprentices,” Stormstripe growled. “They’re always straying over here. And they have the entire river to themselves!” 
     Tidefoot hummed to himself. “I remember when you first came here. You strayed into MarshClan territory on a hunt, and got caught in the mud.” 
     Stormstripe glared at the senior warrior for a moment, but his expression softened. “You’re right.” 
     “We should have kept that mouse,” Palepaw huffed.  
     “Do you want to take prey that WaterClan caught? It ran across the log. You don’t want that,” Stormstripe snapped. “Let’s finish the patrol.” 
     He’s in a foul mood today.