Moltenstar stalked to the cats. Icepaw froze. Her life was all crumbling, and so was the ground underneath her. She was so nervous and so angry.
His head snapped to Hazelpaw, to Songheart, and to Icepaw. He narrowed his eyes at her. Icepaw felt a very angry chill down her spine. Why was everyone on Hazelpaw's side, that dirty lying actor?
"Icepaw," he said with now obvious emotion in his voice, "go up to my den and stay there. I'll come to talk with you later. Hazelpaw, Songheart, Acornpaw, and Slatepaw, come with me." and he stalked off. Icepaw was forgotten there, the eyes of many cats glaring at her. Acornpaw didn't meet her eyes, while Slatepaw just stared at the ground as he walked. Icepaw nearly exploded.
But she just walked to Moltenstar's den, remembering what Havensong told her on her first day of apprenticeship, just keep her head up.
Icepaw reached his den. Though he told her to come inside, she was still feeling a flood of uncertainty. Icepaw took a step in, and gaped in the wonder of how comfortable it was. Icepaw wondered if, if ever she was leader, she'd be able to sleep here, as the worst hunter ever. Icepaw's whiskers twitched and she lay down, head on paws, staring past the curtain of lichen.
Racefire's pelt suddenly came into view. Her calm blue eyes gazed at her. "Icepaw, you can rest, Moltenstar's going to be busy for quite a while," Racefire mewed.
Icepaw raised her head hopefully. "Do you believe her? Hazelpaw?"
Racefire hesitated. "Personally, I don't. I've seen Hazelpaw, and I mean what she is on the INSIDE." Racefire paused, then purred, "my pelt blends with the wackiest things, do you know that? And Icepaw, I've seen who you are. Plus, you're sensible. You kept quiet when Hazelpaw lied like that. I respect you for that, Icepaw." Icepaw gaped. Racefire? Respect? HER? Racefire then gave a smile and walked gracefully out.
Icepaw then re-rested her head on her paws again, her mind spinning. Then she blacked out.
"Icepaw. Icepaw! Iceeepawwwwww." Icepaw's eyes flickered open. Her mouth was set to a confused grimace. What was going on? Then she leapt up. This wasn't Moltenstar's den!
A beautiful blue-gray and white she-cat bounded to her, with a golden tom.
"Hello there, Icepaw," said that blue-gray one friendlily, "I hope we didn't creep you out."
Icepaw gulped. "Uh..."
The golden tom nodded. "We get that a lot."
"But Icepaw," the blue-gray she-cat said, in a very serious tone, "Don't listen to t-"
She broke off. Then both of them disappeared, fading into the distance, eyes wide with fright. Icepaw shuttered continuiously. She was very scared. Then another figure appeared. She was a dark red tabby. The other, a tom, was a long-limbed black and white.
"Greetings, Icepaw," the reddish one said, manner calm and flowing. "I am Cherrymoon. This is Patchfur. We are here... to give you of a prophecy."
Icepaw's ears twitched frightfully.
"When the earth will crumble, ice will put the pieces together... we think that it's you, Icepaw." Icepaw was stung. It was true that Snowberry was acting very differently around her, but Icepaw thought that all of them had the wrong idea. Her? Be the "ice"?
"A-a-are you sure it's me? Havensong has the ice pelt. Racefire has the ice eyes. Hazelpaw has the icy manner," Icepaw said with a bitter tone. Cherrymoon smiled. "Yes, we have heard of the Hazelpaw incident. How dare SHE, to make up of those things. We will have to punish her sooner or later." Icepaw winced. As much as she hated Hazelpaw, she didn't feel it right to get revenge. Patchfur read her mind.
"You are so admirable, Icepaw, being noble and all," he said. Icepaw had the faint feeling that they were trying to hoax her into something, but she couldn't help to trust them. When she thought that, both cats rediated this kind of cold feeling. Icepaw shivered. She didn't like it.
"But back to the prophecy," Cherrymoon interupted. 'We think that you have to be the cat. You are named Icepaw, after all."
Icepaw still wasn't giving up. "But my mother, Sunnymask, said that she was either going to name me Icekit or Flowerkit!" she objected.
"But you are named Icepaw."
Icepaw then gave up. They were going in circles. "Well, what am I going to do, then, if I actually AM this "ice"?"
Patchfur smiled. "I thought that you'd never ask."
Then Icepaw fell, fell straight through solid forest floor. As she passed the ground level, eyes wide, she saw Cherrymoon and Patchfur's outlines, dancing in the light, fading.
...
Somewhere, in the camp of Swayclan, a dark ginger tom walked into his den. It was empty.
