The Lost Prophecy: Book 2: Broken Destinies

Chapter 12

The next morning when Ravenpaw woke up, his belly was rumbling. He had barely eaten anything the previous day after losing his appetite from mulling about Tigerclaw.

Stumbling to his paws, Ravenpaw cursed his worrying. It had taken him most of the night to fall asleep, and judging from the chill in the air he could tell his denmates had already left their nests long ago. It was long past sunrise. Tigerclaw was going to be furious.

Ravenpaw quickly padded into the main clearing, hoping he could find something to eat before Tigerclaw forced him out of the camp. If he didn't he knew he wouldn't have the energy to train at all.

His mind brought him back to the previous day. Tigerclaw had taken him out of camp alone, ignoring Bluestar's order of having two warriors with Ravenpaw when he was in the forest, and no cat had batted an eye apart from Cinderpaw. Ravenpaw shivered. What had Tigerclaw been trying to accomplish, and what if he tried to get him alone again?

The fresh-kill pile was well stocked, and Ravenpaw quickly picked a mouse to eat. As Ravenpaw padded back to the apprentices' pelt twitched; he could sense that a cat was watching him. Tigerclaw. He spun around, and his prey fell from his jaws with a dull thud.

"There you are." Tigerclaw loped up, a cruel gleam in his eyes. "Thought you'd sleep the whole day away?"

"My belly hurts," Ravenpaw meowed, deciding to feign sickness. "I don't... I don't think I can patrol today."

"Really? So you've decided to cure your bellyache with a meal?" As Tigerclaw loomed above, Ravenpaw tried to press himself against the ground. He knew he was caught. In this case he was breaking the rules by taking prey before he'd provided for the Clan, but he had barely managed a few mouthfuls of shrew yesterday, and there were still leftovers from his hunting patrol that would go to waste soon. "Prey certainly won't help," Tigerclaw continued, ignoring the rule breaking to Ravenpaw's complete surprise. His gaze flicked from the mouse to Ravenpaw. "Take that to the elders. Then we'll go for a walk. I could do with some hunting practice."

Hunting practice?! Ravenpaw's insides were shrieking in alarm; something about the way Tigerclaw was speaking was innately terrifying, as though he meant that Ravenpaw, not a prey animal, was going to be hunted. Tigerclaw was going to try to take him out alone, Ravenpaw was sure of it. Somehow he knew instinctively that he needed to avoid patrolling with his mentor at all costs. "I- really- I can't." Ravenpaw took a shaky breath. "My belly hurts-"

Tigerclaw curled his lip. "Trying to avoid training, are you? A true warrior works through their pain! They certainly don't whine about it!"

Just then Yellowfang appeared from the medicine den. "Not so fast, Tigerclaw. Illness needs to be taken seriously, especially in the season of leaf-bare."

Tigerclaw snorted, while his claws sank into the cold wet ground. Then he swung around and loped away, glaring at Ravenpaw as he went. "Don't think you can avoid me forever," he hissed as he slid past.

Ravenpaw huddled there, trembling, as Tigerclaw's dark figure grew more distant. The dark tabby dipped his head to Whitestorm and Willowpelt, and the two warriors nodded respectfully in return. No cat suspected anything was amiss.

Ravenpaw didn't notice Yellowfang addressing him until she raised her voice to a yowl. "Ravenpaw! Did you suddenly lose your hearing? Follow me; I'll get you some herbs for your bellyache." Her orange eyes narrowed. "That is, if you actually need them."

Ravenpaw ducked his head under Yellowfang's penetrating gaze. "I think I'll be fine. I could just rest."

"Then you should do that." Yellowfang continued to stare at him. He darted off, trying to ignore the intimidating medicine cat, before he remembered that he was supposed to be ill and slowed to attempt a limp. Then he remembered his mouse.