Adderpaw felt a bit sore as he padded back to camp after a training session with Darkfoot. He had been harder on him when it came to fighting.
"Hunting is important, but to me, fighting is so much more. Being able to defend against enemies can benefit a lot more than spending most of the time chasing squirrels in trees."
The scarred tom had said this with narrowed eyes, as if he wanted Adderpaw to absorb all of his words of advice. He had reluctantly agreed, not wanting to feel the black tom's sharp tongue.
Treepaw looked just as tired as she made her way over to him, brown tabby fur looking messier than usual.
"Gingerfur is so strict when battle training," She complained, rubbing her face with a paw. "I'm going to be so sore."
"I already am," Adderpaw admitted. "Darkfoot is so tough. Those battle wounds really aren't for nothing."
"We have to train as hard as we can. We don't want to disappoint our mentors. Maybe we'll get used to such vigorous training."
"If it helps me become a strong warrior, than I'll take the pain."
"Don't over do it, mouse-brain," Treepaw took a spot beside the apprentice den and began cleaning herself.
"I'll try," Adderpaw looked around. "Where's the annoying furball?"
"He's cleaning out the nursery," Treepaw glared at him. "And he's not annoying."
"To you maybe," he huffed. "He gets on my last nerve."
"Well I like him," Treepaw turned her back on him, resuming her washing.
Ignoring her grouchy behavior, he made his way over to his mother.
Sweetfur was talking with Longwhisker. The black and white she-cat had pride in her voice.
"I can see how much they are learning. But I miss when they were kits. Adderpaw was so small and squirmed a lot. Never did like his ears licked."
"He looks so much like you," Longwhisker purred. "While Treepaw is a miniature Oakleg. His eyes and everything."
"True," she nodded, noticing Adderpaw approaching. "Hey, honey, do you enjoy training?"
"Yes," he lied, not wanting to break his mother's heart. "Darkfoot is a great mentor."
"He can be pretty fierce," Longwhisker nodded. "He has been ever since Dustflower was killed in that fight with WindClan. He's hated that Clan since."
"Which warrior killed her?" Adderpaw was curious, ignoring the annoyed look on his mother's face for asking something like that.
"Sharpthorn. He's one of their most aggressive cats. Quick and deadly. They've hated each other since they were apprentices. Every time our Clans fight, those cats go at each other."
So Darkfoot was fighting for his murdered mate? Adderpaw felt a shiver of respect for his mentor. Was that why he trained so hard, to make sure he didn't lose another Clanmate? Would Adderpaw ever have that attitude? He didn't have a mate, but he had his family. He dug out his claws. No cat would cause harm to his family if he had any say in it.
"I caught the most prey today," Weaselpaw bragged as he and Adderpaw carried what they caught on the fresh-kill pile. Adderpaw didn't have much luck, two measly shrews. Weaselpaw had caught a rabbit, thrush, and a squirrel. He just got lucky.
"Good job. Give that rabbit to the nursery and then go get yourself some food," Oakleg praised his apprentice before giving Adderpaw a look of complete disappointment. "While Weaselpaw's doing that, you can clean their nests."
That was completely boring! Adderpaw opened his mouth to whine but his father was faster.
"You may as well," he flicked a tail. "Get the moss from Ashnose's den. Luckily Speckledleaf brought back a whole bunch earlier."
"Hah," Weaselpaw teased into his ear. "Have fun with the moss."
"Shut up, mouse-brain," he muttered back as he made his way to the medicine cat den, his tail lashing silently. It wasn't his fault that the prey were all hiding! At least he brought back something!
Speckledleaf was sorting through her herbs when he entered, her tortoiseshell fur glowing from the light coming in her den. Ashnose must be taking care of a denmate. She turned around when he entered, blue gaze gentle and kind.
"Hello, Adderpaw, what can I do for you?"
"Where's Ashnose?" he asked, hoping to stall a bit by talking. It must have worked because she sat down.
"Moleheart had a cold and he's checking up on him right now in the warriors den. Did you need me to get him?" She got back to her paws, tail lightly moving.
"I'm here for moss," he grumbled, not wanting to deal with the old gray medicine cat. His grumpiness must have shown because she spoke up, turning away from what she had been doing.
"Oakleg asked you to clean the nursery?" she guessed with her head tilted a bit.
"Yes, while he let Weaselpaw bring them food and eat. Ever since that furball became my father's apprentice, Oakleg doesn't care for me anymore."
"So you feel replaced?" Speckledleaf put her tail on his shoulder. "He would never replace you. He's just making sure Weaselpaw becomes a good warrior. And I know he feels the same way about you."
"You sure?"
"Positive. He was so proud when you two were born and had promised Sweetfur that he'd be a good father. You might want to tell Oakleg how you feel. Then maybe he would try harder."
"I will," Adderpaw brightened up a bit. "Thank you so much, Speckledleaf. I can see why you're a medicine cat. I feel so much better now."
"That's what I'm here for, Adderpaw. Now, follow me," she purred. "You have some moss to get. I'm sure Lionkit and Thrushkit would be willing to help you clean. Dovefeather has some respectful kits. They'll be good warriors."
