Warriors AU: Fire and Ice

Chapter 13

As the sun sunk into the forest, Sandstorm waited beside the pine tree where Cinderpaw had buried his first lot of fresh-kill. He heard pawsteps and turned to see Cinderpaw and Sorrelpaw padding toward him. Prey dangled from their mouths. Sorrelpaw could barely hold his catch, it was so big. Sandstorm felt a surge of relief. Even Goldenflower couldn't criticize the apprentices' efforts.

"I'll help carry this lot back," Sandstorm offered, flicking away the covering of pine needles from Cinderpaw's stash. He dug it up, grasped the fresh-kill between his teeth, and set off back to the camp.

When they arrived in the camp clearing, some of the Clan cats were already taking their share of fresh-kill from the pile. Goldenflower must have been looking out for their return, because he padded over to them as they dropped their catch near the rest.

"They caught all this themselves?" he asked, nudging the pile with a massive paw.

"Oh, yes," Sandstorm replied.

"Good," meowed Goldenflower. "Come and join me and Oakstar. Bring some fresh-kill for yourself; we're already eating."

Cinderpaw and Sorrelpaw looked at Sandstorm with admiring stares—it was a privilege to eat with the Clan leader and deputy. Sandstorm didn't share their excitement. He'd hoped that he would report to Oakstar alone. The last cat he wanted to share his meal with was Goldenflower.

"By the way, have you seen Silverstream?" asked Goldenflower. Sandstorm felt a pang of concern as Goldenflower continued: "He's supposed to stay in camp while he has this cold, but I haven't seen him since sunhigh."

Sandstorm shifted his paws. Had Silverstream gone off looking for peace and quiet again? "No," he admitted. "Perhaps he's with Raggedpelt?"

"Perhaps," echoed Goldenflower, and padded away to where Oakstar was gnawing a fat pigeon.

Sandstorm followed, trying to push away his growing worry about Silverstream's disappearances. He selected a small chaffinch from the pile of fresh-kill as he passed, then wished he'd chosen a vole. How was he going to give his report with a mouthful of feathers?

"Welcome, Sandstorm," meowed Oakstar as Sandstorm sat down in front of her. He placed the chaffinch on the ground, but decided not to start eating.

"Goldenflower tells me your apprentices caught plenty of prey." Oakstar's gaze was friendly. Goldenflower, sitting up beside her, glared at him more critically, making Sandstorm's tail twitch.

"Yes. They've never hunted in the mist before, but it didn't seem to put either of them off," Sandstorm meowed. "I watched Sorrelpaw catch a wood mouse. His stalking was excellent."

"And what about Cinderpaw?" asked Oakstar.

Sandstorm noticed a steely glint appear in her eyes. Was she worried about Cinderpaw's abilities? Sandstorm replied, "His hunting skills are developing well. He has lots of enthusiasm, that's for sure, and he doesn't seem to be scared of anything."

"Aren't you worried that might make him reckless?" asked Oakstar.

"He's quick and inquisitive, which makes him a good learner. I think that will make up for his"—Sandstorm searched anxiously for the right word—"eagerness."

Oakstar flicked her tail. "His eagerness, as you say, worries me," she meowed, flashing a glance at Goldenflower. "He will need careful guidance in his training." Sandstorm's spirits plummeted. Was Oakstar unhappy with his mentoring?

Oakstar's eyes softened. "He was always going to be a challenge. But he is clearly turning into a fine hunter. You have done good work with him, Sandstorm. With both of them, in fact." Sandstorm brightened immediately, and Oakstar went on. "I've noticed how you've taken over Sorrelpaw's training without being asked, and I want you to carry on mentoring them both for the time being."