Warriors || Tainted Blood: Book 1

Chapter 12

Rowanpaw dodged Ravenwing's blow and rolled on the ground. He found his footing quickly and spun around to face his mentor. The strong black tom was already charging him, paws outstretched. Rowanpaw dived underneath his mentor and kicked off.

Ravenwing crashed into a tree trunk and it knocked the breath out of him for a few heartbeats, enough for Rowanpaw to pin him. He was getting stronger every day, and quicker. Each practice brought him closer to becoming a warrior. Ravenwing said that he even surpassed Wolfpaw's training.

"Very good, Rowanpaw," Ravenwing meowed before pushing the younger tom off of him. "We'll continue this tomorrow," The black tom panted. "Go back to camp and get yourself some fresh-kill."

Rowanpaw dipped his head to his mentor and started to walk back to camp. He kept a watchful eye out for Sweetkit, but she never showed. Perhaps she was upset with him, but he couldn't understand why. Ever since his fight with Wolfpaw, he could use her company.

The camp was busy this time of day. Most cats laid in the shade either eating fresh-kill or sharing tongues. It was too hot to patrol or hunt, so sunhigh was the time to rest. Wolfpaw, Sablepaw, Hollowpaw, and Crowpaw all sat outside the apprentice den sharing tongues. Skystar shared tongues with Raccoontail, Nightfang and Briarfrost slept side by side in the shade, and Hazelkit and Lilackit tussled in the dirt.

It made Rowanpaw happy to see Hazelkit back to her old self. She and her sister would probably be apprenticed soon. Lilackit seemed to be the perfect candidate for medicine cat apprentice while Hazelkit was a warrior to the bone. Rowanpaw wondered who would mentor her.

Rowanpaw approached the fresh-kill pile and picked out a vole for himself; he wasn't too hungry. He settled down in the shade at the edge of camp and watched the clan go about their business. It's been a day since his mysterious meeting with Poisonblood and he couldn't shake him from his memory.

Who was he, really?

"Rowanpaw! Rowanpaw!" Hazelkit dashed across the clearing when she noticed him there. Her hazel eyes gleamed with excitement as she bounced around him. "Guess what?! Come on, guess!"

His whiskers twitched in amusement at her. "I have no idea, tell me."

The sleek she-kit attempted to stand still but was still fidgeting. "I'm going to be made an apprentice tomorrow! Isn't that great?!"

"That's great, Hazelkit!" A purr rumbled in his throat. "Do you want to share my vole?"

Hazelkit licked her lips and tucked into the small rodent. Blood stained her white chin as she chewed on the tender meat. "Mmm, it's good."

"You can finish it if you want," Rowanpaw offered and pushed the vole towards her. "I'm not very hungry at the moment."

A quizzical expression found the young she-kit's face. "But you've been out all day training; surely you're hungry?"

Rowanpaw shook his head and ignored the pains in his empty stomach. As a kit, he'd gotten used to eating very small amounts. If he went to grab something for himself, either Crowpaw or Wrenpaw would take it from him. He still wasn't used to eating large amounts of prey that to any other cat would be normal. It's a wonder he wasn't skin and bones.

Hazelkit shrugged and continued to eat the vole. She settled down beside him and ate in silence. Rowanpaw looked out at the clearing but every now and then he glanced at Hazelkit. Even though she was so small, she had heart and guts. That would make her a great warrior one day, one that the clan could respect. They'll respect her in ways they'll never respect him.

Clearing his throat, Rowanpaw stood up. "I'll see you around, Hazelkit." He padded off towards the nursery to find Wrenpaw. He's grown considerably closer with his foster sister.

Entering the dimly light nursery immediately brought back memories from when he was a young kit. These nursery walls had never felt so constricting or so dark as they had on the cold leaf-bare nights without a mother. While Crowpaw and Wrenpaw snuggled closer to Olivenose, he was pushed away. His kithood days were cold and dark.

"Rowanpaw?" Wrenpaw's soft voice brought him back to the present and his green eyes found Wrenpaw curled up in a nest. She pushed herself into a sitting position as he approached her. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check in on you," Rowanpaw answered quietly, afraid that he would be pushed away.

He expected to find cold distance in her eyes, but instead he found warmth. "Thank you, Rowanpaw," Wrenpaw's green eyes held a sorrow that a cat her age should not know. He's known that sorrow all his life. "W-Wolfpaw still won't talk to me...He won't claim these kits." Her eyes glistened with tears and she looked up into his eyes. "How can I raise them without their father?"

Anger filled Rowanpaw's heart. He didn't bother holding his tongue. "Those kits would be better off without Wolfpaw as their father."

Wrenpaw outright gasped at his harsh words. "You can't possibly mean that! Every kit deserves to have a father!"

"I grew up without a father or a mother!" Rowanpaw growled, green eyes flaring. "If Wolfpaw won't claim those kits as his, then he doesn't deserve them. Wolfpaw is only their biological father, he's not like a real father should be!"

Wrenpaw was silent with a downcast expression on her face. "Olivenose won't talk to me. I-I think she's embarrassed... She doesn't support me."

Rowanpaw moved closer to his foster sister and looked into her eyes. Serious as could be, he uttered his next words carefully: "I'll support you."