A Misty Path (A Warrior Cats Fanfiction)

Chapter 6

"Mistpaw! Get up, you lazy furball!" Mistpaw yawned and stretched in her nest.

"What?" She blinked her eyes open to see a familiar gray shape on top of her. "Mossypaw? What're yo - "

"You're needed for a patrol!" Mossypaw reported, straightening up and prodding the older apprentice in the stomach impatiently. "Around Sunningrocks. Perchscale sent me to fetch you."

"Huh?" Mistpaw's mind was still on the fish she'd been chasing in her dream.

"Get up!" The dark gray tabby tom nudged her with his head, rolling her over. She grunted. Mossypaw was a whole three moons younger than her, but he'd had quite a growth spurt: he was already taller than her and his siblings, and he was broadening up a bit, with large rippling handsome muscles even though he was still six moons old and at the start of his apprenticeship. Although Mistpaw knew he was handsome and attractive, even to apprentices outside of RiverClan, she knew she'd never be mates with him. Although he had the body of a warrior, his mind was still as immature and annoying as a kit's, and she'd never remember their time together as kits, where he and his littermates would bully her constantly. Although Snowpaw, Willowpaw and Whitepaw had all matured and grown a lot mentally, Mossypaw was as rude and obnoxious as ever.

"Alright, alright, keep your pelt on." Mistpaw slowly lifted herself out of her moss bed and stretched, arching her back and leaning forwards as she shook off the remainder of her sleep.

"You're going on patrol with me," Mossypaw added, "and I don't wanna stand around waiting for you to get your lazy butt up!"

At these words, Mistpaw pricked up, suddenly attentive. "I'm going with you?" she scowled.

Mossypaw sniffed and swivelled around, prancing out with his head held high. "Hurry up, freak," he snarled as he pushed past the lichen.

Mistpaw watched him go, her nose wrinkled in disgust. Ever since Mossypaw and his siblings had become apprentices, they'd become too busy to annoy her and Sandpaw, Mudpaw and Speckledpaw. She hadn't really hung around him for moons; they didn't even sleep in the same den. Sighing, she heaved herself to her paws and exited the den, yawning as she flicked a wad of moss from her claw.

As she left, she saw Sandpaw and Snowpaw talking to each other near the medicine den. Snowpaw smiled, her eyes admiring, and Sandpaw let out a little laugh. Mistpaw felt jealousy tearing at her pelt. She remembered Speckledpaw's words: "He likes you. A lot." Mistpaw shifted uncomfortably. Well, I don't like him like that! He's just a good friend. Ignoring the rage for Snowpaw prickling her pelt, she padded over to the fresh-kill pile, where Mossypaw was scanning for some prey.

The dark tom scowled. "Nothing good," he meowed at his companion. "Most of this is pretty old." He bared his teeth in disgust. "I'm not eating that. I can have some fresh prey on patrol."

Mistpaw scowled at the stuck-up apprentice. "You should be grateful for prey," she snarled. "All fresh-kill is worth eating." She nudged a fish with one paw. "Be grateful it's not rotten crow-food."

Mossypaw let out an irritated hiss. "You sound just like Jayclaw." The tom flicked his ears, his voice squeaky and kit-like. "You should eat all prey you get, even if its gross and will make you sick!" He mocked his mentor, eyes screwed up. Mistpaw just rolled her eyes. There was no point scolding him. Like he'll stop.

"Mistpaw!" Perchscale was marching towards her, Jayclaw at his heels. The dark gray warrior was livid. "Are you only just eating? It'll be sundown before we get out!" Ignoring Mossypaw's sneering smirk, she bowed her head.

"Sorry, Perchscale."

"Well, there's no time now." Perchscale flicked his tail, ushering his apprentice along. "You can eat during the patrol. Let's go. Come on, Mossypaw."

"Oh, thank StarClan," Mossypaw muttered under his breath, knocking a fish off the old fresh-kill pile and rubbing it into the ground in disgust so it was coated in dust and uneatable. Before any cat could notice what he'd done, he pranced away. Mistpaw was watching him, and her eyes narrowed in fury. She slowed down as they left camp so she padded alongside him.

"I saw what you did," she hissed under her breath. "You dirty scouldrel!"

"Oh, kill me," scowled Mossypaw, exasperated. "It was one fish! No one cares!"

"I don't think your father would share the same sentiment," Mistpaw pointed out. "And neither do I."

Mossypaw snorted. "Relax," he told her. "If anyone asks, I'll tell them Willowpaw did it. He's an idiot, they'd believe that."

"Mossypaw!" scolded Mistpaw. Mossypaw just flicked his dark gray tail mockingly at Mistpaw and sped up to catch up with his mentor. Mistpaw scoffed in disgust and followed.

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"What can you scent, Mossypaw?" asked Jayclaw. The young apprentice opened his mouth, eyes screwed up in concentration.

"I don't know," scoffed the dark gray tabby, but he sniffed the air anyways. "Twoleg," he finally mewed. Mistpaw tried not to scoff. Duh! She was practically choking in the thick Twoleg scent.

"Very good." Jayclaw praised his apprentice. Mistpaw rolled her eyes.

Mossypaw noticed. "You think you can do better, freak?" he snapped at his fellow apprentice, ignoring Jayclaw's warning tail-flick.

"Anyone could," Mistpaw retorted, listing all she could smell. "There's some stale mouse; maybe ThunderClan chased it over the border. A dog was with the Twoleg scent, and judging by the smell, there were around two or three Twolegs and probably two small dogs or one really big one." She tasted the air, searching for more subtle scents. "Oh, and a rogue came this way about a week ago. The scent's really faint though, so they were clearly trying to hide."

Jayclaw nodded, impressed."Very good, Mistpaw." Mossypaw snorted and muttered something under his breath. "Watch your words, Mossypaw," scolded his mentor. Nodding to a silent Perchscale, he meowed, "Let's keep going."

Mistpaw was about to follow when she smelled something else. Something she'd never scented, but she knew what it was immediately. Whirling around, searching for the source of the thin odour, she yowled: "Fire!"