Warriors: Omen Of Fire

Chapter 4

"No, you need to tuck your hind paws in more, you'll get more power in your leap. How many time do I have to say it?" Charfur looked down on Snowpaw, annoyance pricking in both their pelts.

"Fine!" growled Snowpaw in return. He and Emberpaw had been training for four moons now. I've never come back empty pawed, he thought bitterly. Snowpaw had always managed to catch something, even if it was just a meagre mouse. His sister, however, was doing a lot better at hunting.

He tucked his back paws in tighter and tensed, ready to leap. "Aim for that pinecone at the edge of the hill," mewed his mentor. Narrowing his eyes and bunching up his hind legs, Snowpaw leaped. He landed a mouse whisker away.

"I'll get it next time," he said impatiently, more annoyed at himself for not being able to do it. Charfur just shook his head. "I'm better at fighting anyway, couldn't we just practice more battle moves instead?"

"I know you're very skilled at fighting, but we need to make you as well rounded a warrior as possible. And that means making you a better hunter," Charfur explained. "How about we go out and practice what I taught you, you'll do better actually putting it to the test."

It had been a long day for Snowpaw, practicing pouncing and stalking. He knew how to hunt, but for some reason he had trouble with it. It wasn't the same as the fast paced battle training; he wasn't patient enough for hunting properly.

He padded after his mentor as he jumped neatly down the training hill and into the forest. It was leaf fall now; the days were getting shorter every day and it was a lot colder. Recent nights had brought frost, but it would usually melt by sun high. The forest was bright with red and yellow leaves as they spiralled down to the ground around him.

He lost sight of Charfur in the undergrowth, but he followed his scent and the sound of fur swishing through the crackly leaves. As he wound around a patch of pansies, he almost bumped into his mentor. Charfur flicked Snowpaw's nose with his tail.

"I want you to hunt towards the meadow, the wind is blowing off the lake today, so that should help you. Let's make it like a little assessment."

Snowpaw felt worry knotting in his belly. An assessment? That's a big deal, I don't know if I'm ready for that, he thought anxiously. But he knew he couldn't fail and he still had many moons of training ahead. This will just be practice for his final assessment.

"Alright," he said determined now that he made up his mind. He would show Charfur that he could be proud of him, and then maybe tomorrow they could practice more fighting techniques. Snowpaw scented the air and set off towards the meadow.

The leaves on the trees rippled in a light breeze. That's all it took to rip them off and strip the branches bare. They floated gently down on the breeze coating the ground with leaf litter. Green leaf had been hot and dry, and leaf fall was chilly. It hadn't rained in almost three moons. But now, as Snowpaw padded on, the dusty leaves crumpling under his paws, he could feel the clouds pressing down on the forest. There was a storm brewing. Dark clouds were crowding the horizon.

It's about time for some rain, he thought, weaving through the thick bushes. His long fur always snagged in the thorns if he wasn't careful. He opened his mouth and immediately robin washed over his scent glands. He stopped and pricked his ears; he could hear it pecking at something up ahead. Snowpaw crouched low, keeping his tail off the ground. He slid carefully forward around a hazel bush and saw the robin among the roots of an oak tree.

He stopped, and made sure the wind wasn't blowing from behind him, although if it was, the robin was sure to have noticed him already. Snowpaw tried to judge the distance between him and his prey. About three tail lengths. He took a deep breath. I can do this.