A Spark in the Night, part one: The Spark Ignites

Chapter eight

Softpaw woke up, she hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep. "Am I okay?" she asked.

"Do you feel okay?" asked Poppyflower.

Softpaw nodded.

The medicine cat smiled at her. "You'll be fine enough to leave the medicine den in a little over a quarter-moon."

Softpaw suddenly had a disturbing thought. "Will my warrior ceremony be delayed?"

Poppyflower looked upset. "Probably, but if you do well enough, you may have your ceremony at the same time as Featherpaw and Shinepaw."

Softpaw nodded, determination hardening inside her. "Okay. Thanks." I have to become a warrior at the same time as my littermates!

Softpaw peeked out of the medicine den, and saw the camp as lively as ever, but a sense of dread hung in the air, as if nobody believed that she'd survive. I'll show them! She knew it wasn't something to be mad about, but she was so upset with Leafclaw and Grasswhisker that she needed to be mad at something else to distract her. It was dumb, but she needed something to keep her mind off the searing pain in her wounds.

"Softpaw... you have visitors." Softpaw woke up at the gentle mew of Poppyflower.

Softpaw smiled. "Okay. I was lonely. Let them come in."

Poppyflower stepped aside to reveal Grasswhisker and Leafclaw standing at the entrance, smirking. Softpaw bit back a gasp of fear as they stepped inside.

"Hey, Softpaw." Grasswhisker meowed, fauxing a friendly tone.

Leafclaw turned to look at Poppyflower. "May we speak to her in private?"

Poppyflower nodded. "I'll be back with some more cobwebs and poppy seeds."

No! Softpaw felt another, stronger, pang of fear.

As soon as the medicine cat was out of hearing range, Leafclaw turned to glare at Softpaw. "We don't know how you do it. We tried to weaken you by giving you yarrow when you were sick as an already weak kit, we fed you deathberries, and yesterday we attacked you."

Grasswhisker added, "One day, you won't be able to yowl for help. One day we will kill you."

Leafclaw looked at her wounds. "Look at that. You have quite a lot of wounds there, I doubt anyone will notice another, don't you think?" he pointed out suddenly.

She let out a sharp gasp of pain as Leafclaw swiped her muzzle, and then they both left the den, snickering.

As soon as they'd left, Foxpaw, a young light-ginger apprentice with a white tail-tip and ears, burst into the den. "I heard everything! What else did they do?"

"When I was a kit, they would constantly do things like putting thorns and old moss in my bedding, and kicking stuff on me." Softpaw confided in the ginger she-cat.

Foxpaw widened her eyes.

"Those cats are cruel. Why don't you do anything about it?"

Softpaw sighed. "I've tried. Nobody believes me, except Strikestone. He would scare them off when they tried to attack me when I was a kit, and he pulled me out of the river after Leafclaw knocked me off of the tree-bridge once."

"Don't worry, Softpaw. I'll talk to Strikestone, and we can figure this out." she meowed, walking out of the den.

Softpaw smiled. Some cat's on my side.