Bound

| Chapter Five |

She sat herself down toward the edge of the clearing. Perhaps if she were there, then nobody would bother her. Ears pinned to her skull, Gingerpaw awaited something, or someone's, presence. She didn't know what she was waiting for, but that didn't seem to matter, really.

A red-furred figure popped up in her peripheral vision and immediately, she suppressed a shiver. Sitting up straight, she waited for a few moments and eventually rose carefully to her paws. This motion seemed to notify the tom of her existence. He turned and his ears immediately perked up, eyes narrowing in her direction, and his maw opened.  Gingerpaw didn't need to hear in order to tell that he was snarling.

Redhawk approached her, and without really much of a warning, he shoved against her. She tumbled easily to the ground in front of the elder's den. Resolving herself to conceal her expression, she looked to her mentor. Yet, before much could happen, a bundle of moss was in her face and then on the ground in front of her. Confusion flitted through her and she pulled herself into a sitting position, eyebrows knitting together. Why did he do that?

Yet, the tom pointed aggressively at the den behind her. His skull was tipped down and clear anger was scrawled across his features. The mild light from the sky above shone down upon him and illuminated his features in some sort of strange, sharp light. The she-cat nodded, understanding flitting through her figure, and she picked up the moss and stood up. The warrior gave a harsh dip of his skull, and, pivoting upon his paw, he spun around and walked off.

Silence settled around her and she shifted almost uncomfortably as she looked back to the den. A small sigh escaped her maw and immediately, she regretted it. The red tabby tom furiously stormed back over, and she turned away. Had I been too loud? She could only see his puffed red coat in her peripheral vision and really, she didn't want to turn back.

Stiffly, the she-cat turned to peer at the tom behind her.

His maw was stretched wide and he stomped his paw every few moments. His lips drew back as he yelled furiously at her, but to her, nothing happened. It was silent, and it always had been. There was no magical herb to help her hear. There was no magical herb to allow her to gain a mentor who didn't shout at her. There was nothing she could do except simply wait and watch him scream, watch him stomp his paw every few moments . . . simply just watch the tom.

Eventually, she nodded with a small twitch of her ears. She didn't know what else to do or say. She knew what he was likely saying. Don't do that. Just do what you're supposed to. Do what I want you to do or you'd best not do anything at all. Gingerpaw knew his stupid rules already and knew what she was supposed to do and knew what he wanted but still, he couldn't find solace in this fact.

He just had to go on and on for moons and moons, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. Even though he knew that his yellings were only disturbing everyone else within the clearing, even though he knew that no matter what he said, she'd 'end up disappointing him anyways'. That was probably what he thought, anyway. He was dumb. Yet, he was her mentor and there was nothing she could do except wait for him to stop.

After a little while longer of the extreme face motions, the tom stopped. He lifted a paw and jabbed it at her, his eyes narrowed. She simply nodded and the tom turned around, stalking off once more. Unwilling to wait for anything else to inevitably happen, the she-cat slipped quietly into the elder's den, the moss clamped tightly within her jaws.

All three elders were clumped together in the corner of the den. The tiniest one held a ragged black pelt and the dark-ginger she-cat couldn't help but shift. His pale orange eyes snapped over to her and seemed to survey her figure before giving a small huff. The short-haired white tom beside him glared at her, his pale green eyes shining with irritation. He had ginger patches, and yet they weren't similar to her pelt at all.