Brokenstar's Bitterness

Chapter Six

Gray clouds covered the green leaf sun, drops of rain falling on the marshes of ShadowClan territory. Once the rain was over, the sun rose up and shone upon the mysterious, dark heart of ShadowClan, its rays breaking through even the darkest of places. The grass was wet, still carrying the relaxing scent of the recent rain. Brokenpaw was already awake, feeling the morning breeze ruffle his long fur. It's the Gathering tonight. he thought.
"Greetings, Brokenpaw," Raggedpelt meowed, sitting next to his son, his voice clear. "It's the Gathering tonight."
"I know," Brokenpaw rasped, twitching his whiskers with excitement. "I can't wait to see the other Clans."
"I hope you can wait till sundown," Raggedpelt was murmuring, pressing his flank next to his son's side. "Nightpelt told me you have a quick temper and that you don't listen to him. Is that true?"
Brokenpaw stared down at his father, his eyes wide with surprise. "What? Of course not. Don't listen to him."
"I don't see why he would say something like that." Raggedpelt remarked. "Anyways, I've got to go do my duties now, talk to you later," he brushed cheeks with his son affectionately, then proceeded to walk away but was stopped by Brokenpaw. "You'll teach me those battle moves, right?" he yowled.
Raggedpelt was puzzled. "Isn't Nightpelt supposed to do that? He's your mentor, isn't he?"
Brokenpaw scoffed at the mention of the black warrior's name. "That coughing old fool! He's not teaching me anything. He said we'll do hunting practice from today on, but I want to do battle moves."
Raggedpelt's amber eyes narrowed. "Okay, I'll help you with it after you're finished with hunting practice."
Brokenpaw twitched his ears in acknowledgement, then watched as the ragged tabby vanished through the brambles. I've got things to do, too. he thought, bouncing to his paws, he arched his back in a long stretch.
"I'd better not be late," he strode off to the center of the clearing, recognizing Nightpelt's shape as he came up to meet him, the tabby tom's orange eyes narrowed.
"We're doing hunting practice today," Nightpelt meowed. "It's the Gathering today as well. Don't break the truce. And-"
"Can we get going?" Brokenpaw interrupted. "If you continue talking nonsense all day, we will probably miss the Gathering."
"It's not nonsense, Brokenpaw. You have to have some patience. The warrior code is even more important than hunting or fighting; it's the path a true warrior should follow."
Brokenpaw rolled his eyes with annoyance. "That's ridiculous. A warrior that only follows rules is a coward. A true warrior follows his own instincts, not some dumb rules."
Nightpelt knew better than to argue with his apprentice, hence he let a deep sigh and kinked his tail over his back for Brokenpaw to follow him. They reached the edge of the clearing, walking through the bramble bush and exiting ShadowClan camp through a tiny path that led them further into the Clan's territory. They traveled further into the pine forest, hearing the greenleaf breeze blowing by, lightly ruffling their fur. The wind rustled the tree branches and the ground they were walking on felt somewhat cool and muddy, easy to walk through. The night-black tom led his apprentice into a hollow, which carried many scents of prey. Nearby, Brokenpaw saw a burnt tree, its branches broken and split into pieces nearby.
"What's that?" Brokenpaw asked with curiosity.
"That's the burnt sycamore," Nightpelt meowed. "It's a place suitable for hunting practice. Apprentices practice stalking and hunting at night here. Look, listen, scent is the rule you should follow. And scenting is the first lesson you'll have to learn."
Nightpelt lifted his head up, mouth open, tasting the air. "Close your eyes, open your mouth and taste the air," he instructed the tabby tom. Brokenpaw did as he was told, and soon picked up a scent of a lizard nearby. He opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on the lizard that was slowly walking on the burnt bark.
"Put your body low to the ground. Look out for any twigs or leaves that could alert the prey. Keep your eyes on it. When you feel it's the right time, leap on it," Nightpelt instructed.
Brokenpaw lay still in the undergrowth, his ears pricked and eyes wide open, focused on the reptile. This it it! The right time to strike!  As he was about to leap, he was stopped by Nightpelt.
"Pin it down with the power of your paws and sink your teeth into its neck quickly."
Right. Like I didn't know that already. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. Now or never. He leaped on the lizard, sinking his teeth deep into its neck, thus killing it. He let go of the lizard and stared down at its limp body. Nightpelt sat closer to him, his voice full of praise. "Well done, Brokenpaw."
Brokenpaw twitched his ears at the sound of a bird's singing. He turned around to see a small, red-colored bird on a tree branch. He was about to climb up the tree, but was halted by his mentor. Brokenpaw snapped angrily at the black warrior. "I don't need your instructions, I can do it myself."
Nightpelt hesitated for a moment, then backed a few tail-lengths away and stood watching his apprentice. Brokenpaw ran towards the pine tree, his claws unsheathed, climbing up the pine tree in order to catch the bird but as he was about to deal the killing bite, the bird flew away into the sky. Mouse-dung!  Brokenpaw climbed down, his face full of disappointment and rage. 
"You'll learn it when the right time comes. Hunting birds is for the older apprentices. You're not ready yet, Brokenpaw."
Brokenpaw glanced over at his latest catch. "So all I'll ever catch today is that lizard? Can't you teach me more?" he growled. Nightpelt cleared his throat. "Same procedure. Look, listen, scent."
Vole? He wondered as he picked up a scent. He gazed at the small rodent, which looked similar to a mouse. He put himself in a hunter's crouch and waited for his mentor's instructions. 
"Keep your paw-steps light."
Brokenpaw walked towards the vole slowly and quietly, waiting for the right time to strike. He unsheathed his claws, leaping on the vole, holding it still with his paws, then dealt the killing bite to the neck. Nightpelt's yellow eyes shone with pride. "You've done well."
I guess we're heading to camp now. Brokenpaw thought, but to his surprise, Nightpelt didn't move. Brokenpaw's eyes were wide with confusion. "What are you doing? Aren't we getting back to camp?"
"I've got to catch something for the Clan as well. If you want to learn more, watch." 
He's probably going for the sparrow. Brokenpaw watched as Nightpelt quickly climbed up the tree and slowly padded up to the bird, once the bird was about to fly up, he jumped on it and dealt the death blow. He climbed down with the sparrow in his jaws.
Now I see how it works. I didn't know you had to slowly sneak up to the bird. I'll try it again.
Brokenpaw came up to meet his mentor, and sat by him, his voice clear. "I noticed my mistake from the last time, can I try again?"
"If you insist," Nightpelt nodded approvingly as he dropped the sparrow from his jaws.
Brokenpaw scented the air for any prey. A finch. He followed the scent and saw the crimson red colored bird on a tree branch. Climbing the tree swiftly, Brokenpaw unsheathed his sharp claws and his eyes were wide open for the bird. He sneaked up to the small bird, being less than a tail-length away. The bird realized it was being hunted, and spread its wings to fly, but Brokenpaw was quicker and he leaped on the red-colored bird, pinning it down with his paws, and he sank his teeth deep into the small bird's neck, making an unpleasant breaking sound. He heard his mentor's voice yowling praise from below. "Well done, Brokenpaw. I'm truly impressed." Nightpelt meowed, his eyes glowing with pride. They picked up the fresh-kill and headed back to camp.
The sun was high in the sky, shining upon even the darkest of corners as Brokenpaw and his mentor dropped the freshly killed prey onto the fresh-kill pile. When Brokenpaw was about to take a bite, Nightpelt stopped him. "The warrior code tells us to feed the sick, the old, and the queens and kits first."
Brokenpaw let out a hiss of annoyance, but did as he was told. He took a toad and robin out of the fresh-kill pile, and marched over to the boulder, the ferns behind being the place where the elders spent their last days. Brokenpaw came up to meet them, dropping the prey on the ground. "Here, have your share," he meowed crossly then stormed out of the den, but Littlebird's voice held him in the elders' den a while longer. "Why such hurry? You can stay here for a while and take a rest from your apprentice duties."
Archeye nodded in agreement with the ginger she-cat. "She's right, you can stay here and listen to our stories if you'd like. I have plenty of those."
"I need a fresh bedding," Hollyflower demanded. "This one is pretty used up. Brokenpaw, could you fetch some moss for me?"
Brokenpaw nodded reluctantly, stomping out of the den. He recalled the time when Yellowfang had taken him to fetch moss when he was a kit. He searched for the tree bark behind the elders' den where moss grew. Being a couple of tail-lengths away from the bracken, Brokenpaw had finally found the bark, remembering how Yellowfang instructed him on how to hold it up when he was younger. He burrowed underneath it, gathering as much as he could manage then threw the moss down into a flat pile and headed back to the elders' den. Brokenpaw came up to Hollyflower, replacing the old bedding with the fresh moss pile, adding some feathers to it. Hollyflower lay down to try it out, her eyes full of satisfaction. "This is so soft and cozy," she exclaimed. "Thank you, Brokenpaw. You'll truly be a great warrior." she paused. "Oh, I almost forgot, thanks for the prey as well." 
Brokenpaw said nothing, only gave the she-cat a faint smile and then stumped out of the den.
If only more cats respected me. he thought, fixing his claws in the grass as he watched the cats in the clearing. One day, I will make them respect me, this way or another.