Warriors: The Trail of Centuries

Chapter 16

     Spottedpaw held in a frustrated sigh as she mimicked Swallowclaw's stances. Though some of them she remembered from Hawkscar's training, some were entirely unfamiliar to her. She felt like a brand new apprentice all over again. The only difference between then and now was that this time, her paws weren't sticking out all over the place.

     "You're moving like a newborn kit," Rockstorm voiced her deepest insecurities with a condescending tone. "Keep your body lower to the ground and stop scuffing your paws like that! Any prey that you're lucky enough to find would have already fled by now." The smoky-furred warrior flicked his tail disdainfully. Spottedpaw sat upright and gave her chest fur a few embarrassed licks.

     "I'm sorry, Rockstorm. I'm trying really hard—"

     "Trying really hard doesn't cut it, kit." Spottedpaw bit back her words when she met his cold, yellow gaze. How could he continue to talk to her like that? They'd already had plenty of lessons where Spottedpaw nearly outperformed her new mentors; she couldn't understand how he could remain so cold.

     "Of course," Swallowclaw chimed in, his voice dry and monotonous. "It isn't like Spottedpaw is totally relearning how to hunt and battle in an entirely foreign land." Rockstorm flashed a glare at the tabby warrior and flicked his tail once more, though he didn't continue the conversation. Instead, he begrudgingly offered Spottedpaw advice—an instance that rarely occurred.

     "When you're stalking your prey here, you have to lift your paws a little higher off the ground," he muttered reluctantly. "Our territory is littered with rocks and pebbles, and if you aren't careful, you'll kick them and alert your quarry." As the warrior spoke, Spottedpaw couldn't help but recall Rocksplash, the coldhearted warrior that mentored her brother.

     "Th-Thank you, Rockstorm," Spottedpaw stammered hesitantly, silently hoping that the stormy warrior didn't lash out at her for that, too. He merely fixed her with narrowed eyes, his gaze as harsh as ever.

     "Was that so hard, Rockstorm?" Swallowclaw teased facetiously. "I think we've been thorough with our lessons for today. I'm going to escort her back to camp—alone, if you don't mind. Your sharp tongue and critical gaze are enough to make anyone trip up." Rockstorm merely gave a grunt in response and padded away from the training grounds.

     Swallowclaw chuckled and led Spottedpaw back towards the camp, his long-furred tail trailing behind him lazily. As they padded through the territory, Spottedpaw tried her best to memorize the land around them. So there's a big boulder by the training grounds, she told herself. Perhaps that abandoned Twoleg nest is nearby. She didn't dare ask about it yet, in fear of revealing her adventure with Jayleaf. Spottedpaw knew that even Swallowclaw would question that.

     When they returned to camp, she saw that the apprentices of BlazeClan sat gathered outside of their den. Swallowclaw promptly led her over to them, leaving Spottedpaw to merely follow in confusion. Upon being approached, the three apprentices fixed them with confused stares.

     "Apprentices, this is Spottedpaw. Spottedpaw, these are Smallpaw, Canyonpaw, and Echopaw," Swallowclaw mewed briskly, motioning to the three apprentices respectively. Smallpaw, a black-and-white tom, fixed her with a cold and distrustful glare. The brownish-grey tabby tom, Canyonpaw, refused to meet her gaze—instead, he cast his own gaze to the ground. The third, a sleek black she-cat named Echopaw, sent Spottedpaw a curious glance.

     "We know who she is," Smallpaw snapped, his blue eyes flashing in the sunlight. "We never asked for introductions, you know." Spottedpaw held back a gasp at how he spoke to Swallowclaw.

     "Hold your tongue," Swallowclaw retorted, glowering at the apprentice. "Blueheart requested that she moves to the apprentices' den; she'll be sleeping with you three, and I expect you to prepare her a nest and treat her fairly."