Warriors: a path by the stars #1

CHAPTER EIGHT

As the sun sank lower, casting a warm amber glow over the gorge, the apprentices gathered on the smooth rock at the heart of camp. Their pelts shimmered in the fading light as they shared a rare moment of peace, each lost in their thoughts.

Stormpaw broke the silence, his voice bubbling with excitement. "Rookstone taught me how to climb the cliffs today!" he boasted, puffing out his chest. "It's all about finding the right foothold and pushing off with your hind legs."

Coldpaw, ever cautious, flicked an ear, his gaze steady. "I told Dapplesong it wasn't safe," he murmured, worry clouding his eyes. "The rocks seemed too loose. One wrong step, and you could fall."

Owlpaw snorted, his whiskers twitching with amusement. "Don't be such a scaredy-mouse, Coldpaw," he teased, though a challenge glimmered in his eyes. "We all have to learn sometime. Maybe you're just not ready."

Coldpaw bristled but kept his mouth shut, casting a sideways glance at the cliffs. "At least there haven't been any coyotes around lately," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

At the mention of coyotes, a chill rippled through Ivypaw's fur. The thought of facing such a danger made her uneasy, but she quickly shook it off. She wasn't a helpless kit anymore. When the time came, she would show Coldpaw that they could handle anything the wilderness threw at them.

Eager to change the subject, Stormpaw turned to Hyenapaw. "What about you? What's Hareshade been teaching you?"

Hyenapaw looked up from his meal, his eyes gleaming with pride. "He taught me how to catch eagles!" he exclaimed, trying to sound casual, though his excitement was clear.

The other apprentices stared, wide-eyed with admiration. Even Ivypaw felt a pang of envy at the idea of training with the clan's deputy. But she swallowed it down, eager to hear more about her denmates' adventures.

Before she could ask, Owlpaw spoke up, her tail flicking impatiently. "Talonstride's had me practicing battle moves—again," she grumbled. "It's been the same every day, and I'm sick of it."

Coldpaw's brow furrowed. "You haven't had any hunting training?" he asked, surprise flashing in his gaze.

Owlpaw shook her head. "Only a few lessons," he admitted, irritation creeping into his voice. "It's getting monotonous."

Coldpaw narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Do you think Talonstride isn't as good a mentor as the others?"

A quiet murmur passed between the apprentices, their gazes drifting to the brown tom padding nearby. Ivypaw spoke up, her tone soft but curious. "He is different," she agreed. "He's quieter."

Stormpaw nodded, adding, "Have you noticed how many new scars he's gotten? He looks more worn down than usual."

The apprentices glanced at Talonstride, noting the fresh scars on his matted fur and the weariness in his posture. Whispers had circulated through the clan—some said Talonstride was pushing himself too hard, taking on too many battles. Others claimed he was growing into a fearsome warrior, his scars proof of his strength.

But as Ivypaw watched him, she felt something different. She looked back at the time when her, owlkit and hyenakit were saved by a unknown cat, looking into it, she thinks if it was talonstride who saved them. The one who had shielded her and the others when they were kits. His presence, though rough and silent, reassured her. Deep down, she knew she could trust him to stand by them in times of danger.

Their quiet discussion ended as a hush spread across camp. The apprentices turned toward the center, ears pricked with curiosity. Batstar's voice rang out, cutting through the stillness as he addressed Lightfoot, who had just returned from the border.