Warriors: Mosspath's Choice (REWRITTEN)

Chapter 9

The ferns quivered, waving their leafy fronds wildly in the wind. Green eyes peered through them, almost invisible except the occasional twitch of the whiskers that betrayed movement. The tip of a tail weaved excitedly through the grass behind it, ears pricked for the slightest sign of sound.

"C'mon Mosskit, I know you're in there!"

Mosskit crouched down more, leaning backwards so that she wasn't visible through the leaves. Her tail itched to twitch again, but she kept still, not wanting anything to break her concentration. Flattening her ears, her throat rumbled in a low growl.

With a surge of contentedness, she bended her hind leg which had still been broken only a few days ago. Now that it had healed, she no longer felt a thing when she crouched, the bones mending perfectly together as they were supposed to. Now, they glided as she bent her leg, rubbing together perfectly as they were supposed to.

"Got'cha!"

Mosskit sprung back to avoid a flurry of paws right in front of her nose, the green fronds parting to reveal a spotted gray cat, icy blue eyes flashing with annoyance as they stared at Mosskit's green ones.

The dusty kit huffed, her thick pelt spiked up with indignance. She stalked out of the clump of damp-smelling ferns she was hiding in, raising one paw to smooth down the parts of fur that were sticking out. "You've had more practice!"

Skypaw shrugged, flicking a stray bit of moss off of Mosskit's ruffled pelt with her tail. "Of course, I'm the best apprentice there is. Now go get me a vole and a bundle of fresh moss immediately," her mew dropped to a low growl to imitate Sootpelt's stern meow. "And make sure the moss is dry!"

Mosskit dipped her dusty head to her older littermate, her long, white whiskers twitching. Skypaw's nose wrinkled with a hint of disgust at the movement, shaking her muzzle out.

"And don't twitch your whiskers at me like that!"

The dusty kit laid back her ears in a submissive gesture, her green eyes wide. Mosskit bounded off to gather some moss and prey for the apprentice's endless abyss of a stomach.

Thank StarClan I don't have Sootpelt for my mentor, Mosskit thought to herself when Skypaw was whisked out of sight. He's so stern with every cat! She shuddered involuntarily, imagining what it would be like to have the gray-pelted warrior as her mentor.

After fetching a plump vole from the overflowing fresh-kill pile, Mosskit scampered towards the medicine cat den, the fat prey swinging in her jaws at each step she took. The smaller clearing outside the den came into sight, large ferns and gorse bushes disguising it as a leafy barrier to any other cat outside the camp.

The grass was waving wildly in the wind as Mosskit entered, sunshine beating down on the camp with unusual heat for leaf-fall. She poked her head in the cave, darkness enveloping her until her eyes got used to the dim light.

Shadestripe was mixing herbs in the corner, her pale yellow eyes fixed into slits on the herbal paste she was making. A slight spring of curiosity popped up in Mosskit's mind, briefly wondering what was in it and what it would do. She quickly shook off the thought. It wasn't any of her business, and she was going to be a warrior. Warriors didn't need to know any herbs for training... did they? A stir of unease brewed in her thoughts.

The medicine cat seemed to sense that she was being watched. A flicker of brief annoyance flitted across her face, before composing herself when she saw who was there.

"Hello, Mosskit. What do you need?"

Mosskit dipped her head politely to the dark tabby she-cat, still shy of meeting that unblinking yellow stare that seemed to pierce her soul every time she look into their depths. "Skypaw needs some more moss for her nest."