Hey! Welcome to the sequel of Forbidden Love! Huge thanks to everyone who read that story and liked it. And now, we begin anew!
Disclaimer: I hate these things…I don't own Warriors.
Huge walls of sand-colored stone, stretching up into a pale leaf-bare sky. The sound of snow crunching under paws, the low murmur of conversation. Cat-scent hanging heavily in the frosty air. The enticing smell of fresh-kill from somewhere nearby. The happy squeals of her littermates as they play beside her. The comfort and security of her mother's fluffy tail wrapped around her. Purring, she snuggles deeper into her fur.
Wait.
This wasn't the WindClan camp! The scent in the air was not the comforting scent of her own Clan. The she-cat beside her wasn't Heathertail…
She twists and gazes up at the she-cat. She's beautiful. Her pelt is darker than water under ice, like hers, her leaf-colored eyes a mirror image of her own. Milk-scent is heavy on her fur. Her gaze is warm, but somewhere in her eyes is a glimmer of sorrow she couldn't understand. She looks strangely familiar, the faintest echo of a memory. The strange-yet-familiar she-cat nuzzles her gently.
Mother.
"Moonpaw!" a voice hisses from somewhere next to her.
Moonpaw blinked, her eyelids heavy, and struggled to her paws. "What's up?" she hissed to her brother, flicking her tail irritably.
Eaglepaw stood in front of her, the new-leaf sunlight glinting off his dark pelt. His amber eyes—like those of their father, Breezestar—were glinting with annoyance. "It's nearly sun-high," he mewed to her. "You've been asleep for half the day. Antspot wants me for a patrol, and he said I should wake you up."
"Hey," Moonpaw protested, licking her paw to hide her embarrassment at being caught sleeping in, "I did the moon-high patrol with Emberfoot while you were snoring away in your nest."
Eaglepaw shrugged, the comment sliding off him. "Come on, then." He vanished with a whisk of his tail.
Moonpaw glanced around the den. Driftpaw's nest was empty, her scent stale. She figured her sister must be out hunting with Weaselfur, her mentor. One of the other apprentices, Stripepaw, was curled up in his nest, his tail over his nose. His gray and black striped flank rose and fell gently as he slept. His brother Sheeppaw was yawning in his nest next to him. The white apprentice still looked tired. Their brother and sister, Sagepaw and Skypaw, were nowhere to be found. She padded out of the shallow dip in the land that was her den.
Her Clanmates were scattered around camp, basking in the warm sun. It had been a long, cold leaf-bare, but new-leaf had come at last, and the rabbits were running all over the territory, practically leaping into the warriors' claws. The only downside was that the camp had been flooded with snowmelt, leaving nests and pelts soggy.
She glanced around for Emberfoot. Her mentor was nowhere to be found. Shrugging to herself, she padded to the fresh-kill pile.
Sagepaw squeezed out of the nursery. "Hungry?" Moonpaw called to her denmate.
The pale gray tom padded over to her. "Very."
"Come on," she mewed. "Share this with me, then." She picked out a plump rabbit and headed to the small boulder that marked where the apprentices ate.
As she chewed, she gazed around. Dreamfeather was gulping down a mouse next to Sunstrike. The tortoishell was flicking her ears and talking animatedly to her. Her mate, Leaftail, approached her and mewed softly to her. She stood, twining her tail with his briefly, and padded away. She nodded to her son as she passed, and Sagepaw flicked his tail to her. "She's expecting kits," he mewed suddenly.
"What?" Moonpaw asked, distracted by the flitting of a robin above her head.
"Sunstrike. She's going to have another litter in a few moons."
"Congratulations!" Moonpaw purred.
"Yeah…" he looked away.
Breezestar was sitting on top of the Skystone. He was gazing proudly around at his Clan. Moonpaw waved her tail to her father. He nodded to her, leapt down from the Skystone, and stalked over to his daughter. "Good morning," he purred.
"Morning," Moonpaw replied.
He sat down, wrapping his tail around his paws. "Why aren't you with Emberfoot?"
"I don't see him. Is he even around?"
Breezestar gazed around the clearing. "He's in the warrior's den." A heartbeat later the dark gray tom appeared at the edge of the den.
Moonpaw stood and bounced over to her mentor. "What are we doing today?" she demanded.
Emberfoot stretched. "Battle training," he yawned. "With Driftpaw and Skypaw."
Moonpaw trailed behind her mentor as they weaved through the tall grasses, headed to the sandy spot where the apprentices and mentors did their training. Moonpaw heard the yowls and hisses of her sister and denmate as they practiced. "Go, Driftpaw!" Weaselfur cheered.
"Finish her off, Skypaw!" Skypaw's mentor, Sedgeheart called.
Emberfoot and Moonpaw broke through the tall grasses that surrounded the sandy spot. Driftpaw and Skypaw were tussling in the sand. Driftpaw had overpowered the dark gray tabby she-cat, and was holding her down with her front paws. Skypaw wriggled out of the cream-and-silver she-cat's grasp and bounded to her paws, leaping at her opponent. Driftpaw ducked, and the smaller cat sailed over her head. "Good job!" Moonpaw mewed as Skypaw landed lightly on her paws.
Driftpaw purred. "Thanks, Moonpaw!"
"Right," Emberfoot mewed, "I want to try a double attack on Moonpaw today."
"What?" Moonpaw meowed, surprised.
"Driftpaw and Skypaw," Emberfoot continued, "I want you both to attack Moonpaw. Remember, claws sheathed."
Driftpaw's eyes sparkled. "Think we can beat her?" she asked her denmate.
"Easy!" Skypaw proclaimed playfully.
"No way!" Moonpaw declared. "I can take you both, no problem!"
"Why don't we make this a little more interesting?" Weaselfur asked Emberfoot. "Winner gets first pick of the fresh-kill tonight?"
"You're on," Emberfoot replied.
Driftpaw dropped into a smooth crouch and crept forward. Moonpaw mirrored her sister. Skypaw darted behind her, leaping onto her back. Moonpaw crouched low, leaping into the air so that her denmate lost her grip. Skypaw crashed to the ground, winded. Driftpaw leapt at Moonpaw, slashing at her with sheathed claws. Moonpaw dived underneath her belly, nipping her quickly, hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to break her skin. She hooked one of her sister's hind legs out from underneath her so that Driftpaw staggered. In a flash, Moonpaw twisted so that she was holding Driftpaw down with one paw pressed between her shoulder blades. "I won!" she mewed triumphantly.
"Well done," Emberfoot meowed fondly, resting his tail on his apprentice's shoulder. "Keep it up and you'll be a warrior in no time."
"What about me?" Driftpaw demanded to Weaselfur.
"You fought well too," the ginger tom praised. "All of you did." He cast a glance at Skypaw, who was staggering to her paws. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Skypaw huffed, her eyes shining. "That was great!" she mewed to Moonpaw. The black she-cat ducked her head, embarrassed.
"Now it's Driftpaw's turn," Weaselfur announced. "Moonpaw, Skypaw, attack her. Driftpaw, defend yourself the best you can."
Driftpaw's eyes gleamed with uncertainty. "Pretend we're enemy warriors, attacking the nursery," Moonpaw suggested. Driftpaw's eyes darkened. She pressed her belly to the ground, lashing her tail, and bared her teeth in a snarl. Moonpaw was impressed. Her sister looked dangerous.
"I'll distract her," Skypaw hissed to Moonpaw under her breath. "Then you attack. Try to unbalance her."
"Good idea," Moonpaw replied, just as quietly.
Without warning, Skypaw sprang for Driftpaw. She landed on Driftpaw's shoulders. Driftpaw yowled and twisted, trying to bite the gray apprentice. Moonpaw darted in, butting her head on the cream-and-silver she-cat's flank. Driftpaw staggered, taking Skypaw with her. Moonpaw pounced on them both, letting out a playful hiss. "No fair!" Skypaw wailed. "She wasn't supposed to attack me!"
Driftpaw had let herself go limp. "Are you alright?" Moonpaw asked, stepping off her sister, concern flooding through her. Had she hurt her in some way?
With a satisfied yowl, Driftpaw bounced to her paws, pushing the black she-cat off balance. "Gotcha!" she crowed.
Weaselfur padded to his apprentice. "That was brilliant!"
Moonpaw kinked her tail over her back. "You won't get away so easy next time!" she threatened teasingly.
Driftpaw flexed her claws, her eyes glinting. "Bring it on!"
They trained until the sun was setting, sending bloody streaks across the sky. "That's enough," Emberfoot panted. He had been scrimmaging with Moonpaw, and again the young she-cat had emerged victorious. "For today, at least."
"Do we have to?" Moonpaw asked. She felt more awake then ever.
"We have to," Emberfoot meowed firmly.
"Betcha you can't beat me to camp!" Driftpaw dared.
"Betcha I can!" Moonpaw crowed in reply.
Driftpaw streaked away. Moonpaw tore after her. Blood-red light dappled her fur as she wove through the tall grasses, laughing, hearing her sister giggling ahead of her.
This, Moonpaw thought, satisfied, is what every day should be like.