River of Blood (A Warrior Cats Fanfiction)

Chapter Four

A moon had passed since Finchflower's death.

Rainpaw and Wildpaw had become warriors due to their bravery in the battle with PineClan and were now known as Rainfall (after his mentor, Gorsefall) and Wildheart. Heronheart had died from blood loss after his wounds became too difficult to treat, and Patchpaw and Spiderpaw were recently apprenticed with Aspenspring and Cloverpath as their mentors. Finally, Tawnybrook had given birth to a litter of four kits, whom she named, respectively, Heronkit, Palekit, Sweetkit, and Echokit.

Aspenspring had barely flinched when he got news of his mate's death. It caused Honeypaw to loathe her father even more, and she detested even seeing him around camp. Luckily, however, Patchpaw kept him fairly busy.

Honeypaw rolled on to her belly, feeling as lazy as a badger. Leaf-fall was in full-swing, casting a cool breeze and beginning to dapple the moor with flakes of white snow. She closed her eyes.

After Finchflower's death and the daily meetings with Crowscar, Honeypaw hadn't found much time to sleep.

"Honeypaw," said Shellbright, walking up to her. She had given her apprentice time to grieve, but now she was starting to fall behind the others. "It's time to train. With the tension growing between SunClan and PineClan, it would be a perfect time to practice your fighting skills." She noticed Honeypaw's ribs peeking through her fur, and after a moment, added, "plus, with Leaf-bare right around the corner, we should stock up on prey before they all go into hiding."

Honeypaw groaned, "do I have to?"

Shellbright nodded. "You can't stay in your nest all day, Honeypaw. Adderpaw has already tried fishing."

She sighed, and stumbled to her paws. She felt a heavy pressure in her chest, weighing her down like a ton of stones. Honeypaw remembered a time where she was excited to go train. She shook her head, and followed her mentor into a large and empty clearing outside camp.

Honeypaw fluffed out her pelt as a gust of cold air hit her face. Shellbright stalked in a circle around her, occasionally flicking her cream-colored tail-tip. "Now, the first thing you want to do while hunting is perfecting the crouch..if your crouch is off, then you'll mess up the entire hunt." She stooped low, her tail sticking straight ahead and not even grazing the snow-tipped tendrils underneath her. Her paws were very close together. "See?" she said. "It's easy. You just have to make sure your tail is high and your hind legs are ready to pounce at any given moment. Sometimes, prey will become startled, and you'll have to chase after it."

Honeypaw nodded, though she much rather crawl into her den and sleep for another couple of moons. She crouched, her belly just barely brushing against the grass. She crept forward, but a twig snapped beneath her paw, and she winced at the noise.

"Good," her mentor meowed. "For your first time, anyways. But make sure you're always cautious of your surroundings. Any sound will cause your prey to go running straight for the bushes, and they're fast. Trust me."

The ginger-furred apprentice sighed. "Yeah, okay."

"Come on," urged Shellbright. "Let's go and catch something for Tawnybrook and her kits."

-

When Shellbright and Honeypaw had finally gone back to camp, she had managed to catch a scrawny-looking bird that had broken both wings before she had caught it. She was almost glad to put the poor bird out of its misery.

Honeypaw dragged her lousy catch to the nursery. Tawnybrook looked up through half-lidded eyes, brightening as she examined the robin. "Thank you, Honeypaw, I was starving!" Her kits, Heronkit and Palekit, eagerly dug in. Sweetkit yawned, but she barely stirred at her mother's belly, nestled warmly beside Echokit's sleeping body. "No problem," muttered Honeypaw, leaving before the scent of milk could remind her anymore of Finchflower.