Warriors Bloodlines Book 1: Rising Tension

CHAPTER 2

     Flypaw awoke, the morning sun shining through the brambles. He looked around; the other apprentices were gone. Possibly training, Flypaw thought to himself. It wasn't long before his mentor Brackenheart appeared in the entrance to the den. "Up Flypaw!" He mowed loudly. "Today we begin training your hunting skills."                                                                                                               It had been a few days since Flypaws apprentice ceremony. Brackenheart had let him rest and meet some other clanmates. But now, as he said, it was time to train.                                                               The two left camp and before long they had made it to a hollow with a tree standing in the middle. "This is the training grounds." Brackenheart meowed. "Come, lets begin with tree climbing, thats an important skill for a Treeclan cat." He approached the tall Pine tree and Flypaw followed.                                                                                                                                                                          The warrior showed the appprentice his forepaw, before unsheathing his claws. "You'll need these," he purred. The Golden brown tom then hooked his claws into the bark of the tree. "Make sure you have a good grip, and then-" He cut off and begin climbing the tree quickly.                                 Brackenheart made it to a high branch and sat, curling his tail over his paws. "Your turn!" he called to Flypaw.                                                                                                                                                                              Flypaw tried the same tactic. At first he couldn't get his claws to hook into the tree, but soon they did. He began clawing his way up the tree, more slowly than his mentor had, and sat on the branch beside him. "Now what?" he asked the warrior. "Now," Brackenheart began. "We must leap to that tree over there!"                                                                                                                                                     He gestured with his tail, and Flypaw looked where he was pointing. "But its so far away!" Flypaws eyes widened in surprise. "What if I fall?" Brackenheart nuzzeled his apprentice. "I'll go first. I'll make it to the other side, and climb to the bottom. That way, if you DO fall, I'll catch you!" Flypaw looked uncertain, but they followed through with the plan.                                                           Brackenheart skillfully leaped to the closest tree, his claws hooking onto a branch as he slipped. He pulled himself up, and nodded at Flypaw before running down the tree. "Ok!" He called from below. "Your turn!"                                                                                                                                                 Flypaw took a deep breath, then ran as fast as he could towards the edge of the branch. He bunched his hind legs and pushed with all his might, springing into the air. Suddenly he began falling, crashing towards the ground. To his relief, Brackenheart snatched him by the scruff, as his paws scraped the earthy floor. "You did good, don't worry," His mentor meowed, sitting him down. "Most apprentices fall their first time, I did, and I've heard rumors that even Bigstar did!" Brackenheart chuckled.                                                                                                                                                               Flypaw stood there, in disbelief. It was hard to believe that the strong Treeclan leader had ever failed at anything. The two had spent the rest of the day training. Flypaw had practiced over and over leaping from tree to tree. And then Brackenheart had shown him how to catch the birds and squirrels that hid amongst the trees.                                                                                                                              They had brought a good haul back to camp. As they entered the clearing, Brackenheart whispered into Flypaws ear, "Go and see if the elders have eaten, if not, take something to them, but if so-" he nodded towards the nursery, and Flypaw knew what he meant. If the elders had eaten, take some to the queens.                                                                                                                                                 They dropped off their haul of Fresh-Kill, and Flypaw grabbed a thrush. He began stalking towards the Elders Den, but Viperpaw stopped him. "I've fed the elders," She meowed before stalking away.                                                                                                                                                                                     Flypaw had taken notice that the black she-cat was much nicer to him than her brother, Pantherpaw. But the nicest of the litter of apprentices was Littlepaw. he had been a good friend to Flypaw these past few days, helping him adjust to the new den.                                                                           Where was Littlepaw? He thought to himself. Flypaw marched to the Nursery and entered into the den. Inside lay the queens: Hazelnose, a pretty Tortoiseshell, and Darklily, who was black and white and the mother of the other apprentices. But now Darklily was caring for a new set of kits, probably about halfway to their apprentice ceremony, three moons. But Hazelnoses kits were newborns, born a few nights before Flypaw was apprenticed. A little white kit ran up to him. "Thrush!" He meowed. "I'm hungry!"                                                                                                                           Flypaw dropped the Fresh-Kill and the white kit began to eat. Soon his three sisters joined him. "Thank you Flypaw," Darklily purred. "Freezekits been hissing all afternoon that he was hungry. He wouldn't let me forget it"                                                                                                                                       Flypaw looked at Hazelnose, who was laying there, her kits suckling. "That one, why isn't she getting milk?" He asked, pointing his ears towards a grey tabby kit. Hazelnose shook her head. "I don't know," she mewed. "Sweetacorn thinks she may have kittencough." Flypaw looked bewildered. "Kittencough kills kits easily, a horrid disease." Hazelnose explained. "I just hope Riverkit can pull through."                                                                                                                                                  Darklily stalked over towards her and groomed her pelt. "It'll be ok, Starclan will take care of everything," the black and white queen purred.                                                                                                               Flypaw left the Nursery and stalked into the clearing. He saw two warriors sharing tongues by the Fresh-Kill pile. It was Hawkswoop and Sparrowtail. Both of the Brown tabbies looked very similar, although Hawkswoops fur was darker.                                                                                                                      Flypaw then saw Littlepaw, on the other side of Hawkswoop. Hawkswoop is Littlepaws mentor, Flypaw thought. The two must've been out hunting. "Littlepaw!" Flypaw called from afar. "Wanna share some Fresh-Kill?"                                                                                                                                           The Black tom looked up at Flypaw. "Sure thing!" He mewed. He grabbed a Sparrow before following the grey tom to the entrance to the Apprentices Den. They ate the bird quickly before going in and laying down.                                                                                                                                                  They talked for a while about the clans wellbeing before Flypaw drifted off to sleep.

              He stood up, in the middle of the forest. Flypaw had fallen asleep in the Treeclan camp, how did he end up here? Suddenly he heard a voice close to his ear. "Frost cover the trees. A tree shall fall upon the frost, bringing the lost home." Flypaw turned and saw a sparkly ginger tom fade out of eyesight. He was left there thinking. "What does this mean?" He meowed out loud.                  "What does what mean?" It was Pantherpaw, jolting Flypaw into consciousness. "Well then if you won't tell me, go back to sleep. Your twisting and turning woke me up!" The black tom hissed when Flypaw hadn't replied.                                                                                                                                            Flypaw settled down again and thought to himself, what could this mean? Was it a message from Starclan?