"So...Do I do it like this?" asked the ginger-and-white apprentice, inching across the forest floor.
"That's really good," meowed her mentor, a pale gray tom. "But don't let your tail drag like that-your prey would be able to hear it moving against the leaves. Hold it out straight instead. Like this." He crouched down and stalked forward, holding his tail rigidly and parallel to the ground.
She copied him, being careful not to let her tail touch the mess of dirt and leaves.
The pale gray warrior nodded. "That's perfect, Maplepaw!"
Maplepaw's green eyes glowed at his praise. She had only been an apprentice for a few sunrises, and was excited to hear that she was doing well. "Thanks, Breezetail! Can we go on an actual hunting patrol tomorrow?"
Breezetail purred. He liked the young she-cat's enthusiasm, and was glad that Sandstar had made him her mentor. "Maybe not tomorrow-there are still some things we need to work on." Maplepaw looked disappointed. "But we will go on a patrol soon," he added. "I promise."
Maplepaw followed Breezetail back to the ThunderClan camp. She had enjoyed practicing hunting, and was excited to learn more. Hunting would help her become a warrior, and then she would become leader! Maplepaw knew that. She knew, in her heart, that someday she would become Maplestar.
"So, how did your training go?" asked another cat, interrupting Maplepaw's thoughts. She turned around to see a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat.
"It was awesome!" Maplepaw mewed excitedly. "Breezetail said that I did a perfect hunter's crouch!"
"That's great!" the other apprentice, Sweetpaw, congratulated. Suddenly, a mischievous glint came into her eyes. "Do you want to go to the Sky Oak? I bet I can get to the top before you!" She dashed off.
"I doubt that!" exclaimed Maplepaw. The green-eyed apprentice raced after her friend, not a care in the world.
A ginger-and-white she-cat crouched, unseen, in a thicket of reeds. Her gaze was fixed on a group of four cats. The leader of the patrol was a silver tabby she-cat. Her nose and tail were at least three fox-lengths in the air. That was Silverwish, the RiverClan deputy. After her came a reddish-brown tom, a pure white she-cat, and a handsome brown tabby tom. Foxfang, Iceshade, and Hawktooth. Mapleshade curled her lip as she saw the last two.
She had loved Hawktooth more than she had loved any other cat. She thought he loved her, too-she thought he did.
Mapleshade had been wrong. He never cared about her-not at all.
When ThunderClan banished her for taking a RiverClan mate, Mapleshade thought that RiverClan would accept her and her kits. How could she have known that her kits would drown? How could they blame her? How could they turn her away?
Now Hawktooth had a new mate, as if Mapleshade had never existed. His new mate was Iceshade. Mapleshade hated them both with a burning passion.
Mapleshade had had everything-everything-and then it was all taken away.
It was never her fault.
So why did she get the blame?
She was broken.
Broken.