Darksong's Struggle

Chapter 7

Outside, the air was crisp and cold, with silver clouds flitting across the frosty sky. Darkpaw shivered, his whiskers brushing his cheeks as the wind blew them back. The moor was soft, and the forest beyond felt more familiar. Darkpaw turned his paws towards the woods, but Brindlepaw's nudge made him stop.

"What is it?" He turned towards his brother.

Brindlepaw had a mischevious look on his face. "Let's go see if there's any borage on the ShadowClan border, since there's woodland over there."

"Is that safe?" Webpaw questioned. "Haven't they been acting aggressive?"

"So what?" Brindlepaw purred. "What are they going to do, hiss at us?"

Darkpaw blinked, unsure.

"Come on." His brother had made up his mind.

Webpaw and Darkpaw hesitantly followed Brindlepaw as the black tom set off across the moor, heading towards the stretch of woodland that led over the hollow of the mothermouth and down the moor, towards the thunderpath that seperated SkyClan territory from ShadowClan. The forest was chilly, with cold leaf-bare wind ruffling Darkpaw's whiskers. He shivered and followed his brothers into the frosty woods.

The bracken and nettle crunched beneath Darkpaw's paws, feeling too silent. He was aware of the scarcity of prey, and realized he hadn't experienced true hunger, since kits were always fed first. Not anymore, though, He realized. Because were apprentices, and we'll- Webpaw and Brindlepaw- will hunt for the Clan instead.

He felt utterly useless again. How could he just take prey now, if he wasn't the one catching it? How was making his clanmates throw up giving him the right to take prey?

Why couldn't he be a warrior?

He knew why, but it still hurt.

"What herb is that?" Webpaw's mew broke into his thoughts. He was looking at a pale green leaf, half-wilted, sprouting out of the ground. It's leaves drooped, and it's stem was frosty with leaf-bare chill.

"Er." Darkpaw sniffed at it, but he couldn't distinguish it's scent due to the frost washing it's smell away. "I'm not sure."

Brindlepaw blinked. "Shocking."

Pain pierced Darkpaw's heart. He knew he was bad with herbs, but did Brindlepaw need to say that? I'll laugh it off. He purred with amusement. "Let's keep going. At least I remember what borage looks like."

The trio walked on, and the hurt in Darkpaw's heart eased. He sighed. His brother meant no harm; he was just upset that he had given him the wrong herb. And that makes sense! Darkpaw thought. He felt mad at himself, and guilt pricked his pelt as he thought of the vomit on the ground, and Brindlepaw's angry and queasy expression. It could've been worse. He tried to tell himself.

As they walked on, an acrid scent touched Darkpaw's nose, mixed with the scent of borage. Brindlepaw was right! Happily, he limped ahead, brushing past his brothers.

He found himself on a stretch of grass. A few fox-lengths over, a wide path crossed over the grass. It smelled rank and nasty, with a smoggy aroma. He wrinkled his nose, but was more focused on the purpleish flower, sticking out of the dirt. He sniffed it. Borage? It smelled like it, and looked like it.

"Guys! I found it!" He called.

Webpaw and Brindlepaw were already scrambling out of the overgrowth, and hurried over to join Darkpaw. "Wow, a flower." Brindlepaw mewed.

"Show more interest, Brindlepaw!" Webpaw teased. "This flower could save lives!"

"Mhm."

Darkpaw blinked, uncertain. "I don't remember-"