Ghosts of the Clans (COMPLETED)

Chapter 7

"Hello, cleaner," Leafpaw sneered as Antpaw entered camp carrying a large wad of moss. "Shut up, or you'll end up like Breezepaw," he snarled at his brother, then regretted it instantly. The black tom had been seriously injured, and his wound had even been slightly infected. Nightcloud sat with him whenever she could, and Crowfeather didn't even speak to Antpaw. The other cats were also cold towards him ever since then, even though Breezepaw had recovered a long time ago.

At once, Leafpaw flinched, his amber eyes suddenly flashing with fear. He opened his mouth to retort, but just then Willowclaw intercepted the two arguing brothers. "Antpaw, you shouldn't say that! You didn't harm Breezepaw on purpose, did you?" Grateful for someone that understood, Antpaw nodded. However, Leafpaw spoke again, all fear gone. "Nah, I bet that he did it on purpose! He's a fox-heart."

Too hurt to continue, Antpaw grabbed the moss and stalked to the elder's den, where Oatwhisker lay. "Thanks, youngster. Also, I heart you and Leafpaw arguing, and mind you, you shan't be so hotheaded. Young cats these days..." "But Leafpaw was wrongly accusing me!" protested Antpaw, struggling to keep calm. "So what if he does. Let the truth speak for itself. I can see that you're going to be just like your father one day, strong and brave."

His heart feeling a lot lighter, Antpaw thanked the old creamy-brown tabby tom and left.

"Hey, Antpaw. Breezepaw and I are having our warrior assessments now." Antpaw looked up to see Heatherpaw. "Okay," he grunted, turning his head away. But still, Heatherpaw forced him to look into her smoky blue eyes. "Look, Antpaw. I know that I bullied you before, and I really am sorry. As for Breezepaw... well, he's not evil, you know." 

A warm feeling began building up in Antpaw's chest as he listened to the light brown tabby she-cat. "Thanks, Heatherpaw," he purred, relaxing for the first time in what felt like moons. Suddenly playful, Heatherpaw winked at Antpaw and teased, "It won't be Heatherpaw soon!"

Gazing after her, Antpaw wondered whether Oatwhisker was right after all.

"Heathertail! Breezepelt!" Antpaw chanted enthusiastically. He avoided looking at the lean black tom, instead looking at Heathertail. They had grown so much from the kits he had played with in the nursery- and also more mature.  Actually, Breezepelt may not be hostile, but I only think so because I'm too sensitive. Antpaw realised.

It was pleasant, growing up and learning from other cats his areas of improvement. Antpaw would be meeting Shredtail and Thistleclaw again tonight, so that they could also teach him to be the best warrior he could be.

Flytail, I hope you're proud.