Warriors: a path by the stars #1

CHAPTER SEVEN

As the sun's first rays stretched across the savanna, casting a warm, golden light on the sprawling territory of DawnClan, Ivypaw blinked awake in the cool shade of the apprentice's den. The endless expanse of golden grass stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted here and there by scraggly acacia trees and rocky outcroppings. The sound of birds calling in the distance filled the air, and the earthy scent of dry soil mixed with the dew left over from the night.

Today felt different. Excitement buzzed beneath her fur, but there was a twinge of nervousness too. She knew today's training would be tougher than before. Greyfeather, her mentor, was a cat known for his exacting standards. He expected nothing short of perfection from his apprentices, and Ivypaw had yet to meet his approval fully.

Stepping out of the den, Ivypaw spotted Greyfeather waiting near the camp's entrance. His sleek, grey pelt shimmered in the early morning light, and his piercing gaze was already fixed on her, full of expectation.

"Today's training starts now," he declared, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Follow me."

Without hesitation, Ivypaw hurried after him, her paws lightly skimming the dusty ground. Together, they crossed the camp and headed out into the wide, open savanna. DawnClan's territory was vast, a seemingly endless sea of waving grasses and sparse vegetation. The wind blew gently, carrying with it the scent of prey – a reminder of what lay ahead.

As they walked, the morning sun climbed higher, and the warmth spread through Ivypaw's body, though it did little to calm her nerves. Greyfeather's pace was brisk, his focus unyielding as they traveled further from camp. It wasn't long before they reached a clearing shaded by a cluster of thorny trees. The branches created a natural canopy overhead, casting dappled shadows on the dry, cracked earth below.

Greyfeather stopped abruptly, turning to face Ivypaw with the air of a cat who had done this many times before. His posture was rigid, every muscle in his body tense and alert, as if the world around them held hidden dangers only he could sense.

"This is where you'll learn the basics of hunting," he said, his voice low but commanding. His gaze bore into her, leaving no room for mistakes. "Watch closely."

Ivypaw lowered herself to the ground, eyes wide and ears perked as she watched her mentor slip into a crouch. His movements were fluid, practiced—like water flowing over smooth stones. His belly barely brushed the ground as he crept forward, blending into the shadows with ease. The grasses didn't rustle, and even the birds above remained undisturbed. It was as if Greyfeather had become one with the savanna itself.

She studied every muscle, every twitch of his tail, trying to memorize the grace and precision with which he moved. Then, with a flick of his tail, Greyfeather stopped and turned to face her.

"Your turn," he said, stepping aside to give her space. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, were already fixed on her, waiting for her attempt.

Ivypaw took a deep breath, her heart beating faster as she positioned herself. Slowly, she sank into a crouch, her belly brushing the ground just as she had seen Greyfeather do. But the moment she moved forward, Greyfeather's voice rang out, cutting through the quiet.

"Too high," he barked. "Prey will see you from a distance."

Flustered, Ivypaw adjusted her stance, pressing her body closer to the ground. She moved forward again, more cautiously this time, but each step felt stiff and awkward compared to Greyfeather's effortless grace. Every muscle in her body seemed tense, and under the weight of her mentor's intense gaze, she struggled to focus.

Greyfeather circled her like a vulture, his eyes taking in every flaw in her form. His silence felt like a heavy burden, growing heavier with each passing moment. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.