Chapter two


The hunter stalked through the forest, silent as the shadows around him. Through the trees he crept, his paws gliding over the ground, his body tensed in a crouch. His quarry, a plump mouse, sat only fox lengths away, too preoccupied with searching for seeds to notice the predator creeping closer with each passing moment.

A little closer, just a little closer…

Bit by bit, the tom crept closer, his green eyes glowing in the half light. Only a fox length away from his prey, he prepared to spring, his claws unsheathing in anticipation…

Somewhere off in the bushes, a twig snapped, and the mouse scuttled away in alarm.

"Fox-dung!" Briarpaw spat, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Be more careful you mouse-brain! I almost had it that time."

A rustling sound came from the bushes, and a small white tom crept out from the under growth, an embarrassed look on his face.

"Sorry Briarpaw, I keep getting tripped up in all of this undergrowth…" The smaller tom cast a resentful look at his crippled hind paw.

"Sorry catches no prey. If we don't hunt, we don't eat."

"Then why don't we hunt somewhere with less things to trip me up?" his comrade suggested. "It's not like the forest is the only place with prey."

Briarpaw sighed heavily. "A good hunter must be able to hunt in different environments. We have to be able to take advantage of all of our resources, Stumblepaw. At least, that's what Granite always says."

Stumblepaw huffed. "Granite has bees in his brain. Not all of us are as adaptable as he is."

"Oh, just forget it. Fine, we'll go to another area to hunt."

"Now you're talking sense. Let's go to the river!" Stumblepaw said brightly, starting to walk off in the direction of the river.

"No." Briarpaw wrinkled his nose. "Fish are disgusting. I don't get how you can possible stand to eat that crowfood."

Stumblepaw batted him over the head playfully, and then lost his balance and almost fell over. "Fish is wonderful. How can you stand to eat squirrels? It's a pain eating something with that much fur."

Briarpaw rolled his eyes. "Fine, we'll go to the river. But if you fall in again, I'm not jumping in to save you." Sticking his chin in the air stubbornly, he started leading the way through the forest.

"Yes you would." Stumblepaw said plainly, struggling to catch up.

"And what makes you say that?"

Stumblepaw purred in amusement. "Mouse-brain, I know you wouldn't let your own brother drown."

"Keep getting on my nerves; then we'll see if that theory holds."

Stumblepaw stopped walking and gave him a hard look. "You're no fun anymore, not since we became apprentices."

Briarpaw snorted. "It's a little hard to be 'fun' while trying to survive. We aren't in the nursery anymore Stumblepaw, no one is going to stick their neck out for us."

"You make it sound horrible to be an apprentice."

The bigger tom shot his brother a look, and continued walking. "It isn't. But it's not all mice and moonlight either."

"But we get to do battle training." Stumblepaw pointed out. "Battle training is great."

A low growl rumble in Briarpaw's throat, making both of them stop short. "Battle training isn't supposed to be entertaining. There isn't anything entertaining about learning to defend yourself from enemies."

An image flashed through his head, the roaring of twoleg monsters and their rancid stench. The flashing of claws in the moonlight, blood, and furious shrieks. His mother's cry…

Briarpaw shook his head, as if the simple gesture would clear the thoughts from his mind. His gaze fell on his smaller brother, looking so bright and cheerful despite the fact that his future in the clan was so uncertain. Bloodclan had only one real rule: survival of the fittest. Weakness wasn't tolerated. If Scourge thought that any cat was holding the survival of their clan back, he would eliminate the problem. The mere fact that Briarpaw and his brother had been let into the clan had been a stroke of luck; many of the clan's kits had been wiped out during that leaf-bare from illness, and the clan needed members. If it hadn't been for the fact that Bloodclan needed kits, the two of them probably would have been killed on sight for trespassing.

Briarpaw himself didn't have to worry about anything; he was a strong, healthy apprentice now, and as the warriors viewed him, an asset to the clan. Stumblepaw was a different story though. His crippled hind paw made it hard to hunt on his own, and fighting was a major difficulty. So far the warriors hadn't done anything about Stumblepaw's disability, but their dissatisfaction was clear. While Stumblepaw could fight on a minimal level, and hunt fish, things would be a lot worse for him is he didn't have Briarpaw to stand up for him. The brothers could only hope that that Scourge didn't take a particular interest in the issue.

"Come on." Briarpaw grunted, giving his pelt another shake. "Let's get to the river before sunset. If we're back at dusk, maybe we can hang out with Littlecloud before going to sleep for the night."

Stumblepaw needed no further persuasion, and took off, going as fast as his crippled leg would allow. Briarpaw sighed at his brother's enthusiasm. Nothing ever seemed to damper his spirits, not even the hollow feeling of hunger that had haunted their paw steps all leaf-bare. He was as bright and carefree, still holding the pure innocent nature of a kit even though they had been apprentices for a few moons now.

And perhaps that was why Briarpaw would do anything to protect his brother, to shelter him from the harsh realities of the real world for as long as he possibly could. Because it was that innocent nature that he saw shining in his smaller brother's eyes, the carefree kithood that he had left behind the moment their mother had been killed, and he took charge of their survival.


The sun had already begun to sink below the horizon by the time the two brothers had finished hunting and started the trek back toward their nests, following the river. It had been a long day, and all Briarpaw wanted to do was curl up and sleep for the next moon. But of course things were never that simple.

"But you said we could go see Littlecloud!" Stumblepaw whined, flicking his tail in irritation.

Briarpaw groaned. "Come on, it's late! Granite will claw my tail off if I'm late for battle training, and I doubt that your mentor will be very pleased if you're too tired to see straight."

"He won't care." Stumblepaw muttered looking downcast for once. "He doesn't think I have what it takes to be a warrior."

The sullen look on his brother's usually euphoric face was enough to make Briarpaw's expression soften slightly. Inwardly, he berated himself. He could convince an entire clan to except them in to their ranks, but he couldn't find the words to comfort his own littermate.

Silence hung in the air between them like a heavy fog.

Finally Briarpaw could stand it no more. "Alright, fine. We'll go see Littlecloud. But don't complain when –"

"Yes!" Stumblepaw purred, and took off again, trudging awkwardly along the river's edge, his paws leaving faint prints in the frozen ground.

I'm going to regret this. Briarpaw told himself, shaking his head and trying to stifle the purr rising in his throat. It was amazing how easily pleased some cats were.

As if on cue, tiny white flakes began to fall from the sky, dancing and twirling in the air in a showy fashion before gently nestling on the ground. Stumblepaw stared up at them in wonder.

"Snow." He whispered, his whiskers twitching in absolute delight. Though neither of them had ever seen snow for themselves, Briarpaw could remember their mother telling them about it in that wistful voice of hers. She had always had a way of making things sound a lot better than they really were.

A small flake settled on Briarpaw's nose, and he flicked it off, glaring up at the sky in apprehension. "Yuck! It's cold. And wet. " He detested both qualities.

"You're no fun at all!" Stumblepaw huffed, fluffing up his white pelt against the chilly air.

Briarpaw didn't acknowledge Stumblepaw's comment, and instead urge him forward, moving on. "Hurry up. The medicine cats' island is up ahead."

The two of them scampered along the muddy bank until came to it, a bend in the river, and a small island surrounded by reeds on all sides.

The two winced at they plunged into the water, making for the island. The river was very shallow here, but Stumblepaw was small for his age, and the icy water lapped at his chin, his paws barely touching the bottom. Briarpaw wasn't much better off.

"Why do the medicine cats have to live here?" Briarpaw grumbled as they reached the shore and pushed the thick wall of reeds.

Stumblepaw wasn't listening though, and was already trudging his way unsteadily across the clearing toward a small group of nests built in a thick patch of reeds, where the medicine cats slept. The entire island was almost empty otherwise, except for a few other scattered nests occupied by injured cats, most of which were already sleeping. Stacks of herbs could be seen scattered everywhere, and their heavy scents clung to Briarpaw's nose making him dizzy.

"Stumblepaw, Briarpaw. Good to see you." A small tabby tom, Littlecloud, greeted them warmly, looking up from a stack of herbs he had been sorting.

Stumblepaw's deep green eyes glowed as the two of them sat down next to the medicine cat. "Nothing, we just thought we would come by and visit."

At this Briarpaw snorted, and Stumblepaw flicked him on the shoulder with his tail. Stumblepaw had always admired Littlecloud; he was one of the few cats in the clan who didn't look down on him for his disability, and Briarpaw had never seen his brother as happy as he was when he was in the medicine clearing, surrounded by the overwhelming scent of herbs and hearing Littlecloud tell them stories. No matter how much he tried, Briarpaw just couldn't understand his enthusiasm.

"Do you like being a medicine cat?" Stumblepaw asked. For some reason he never could seem to stop asking questions when they talked to Littlecoud.

The medicine cat's eyes shined with amusement. "Yes, taking care of cats is my calling." His eyes wondered around the clearing, going from proud, to sad, to anguished with each passing glance.

"But you aren't happy, though." Briarpaw observed.

Littlecloud sighed. "Well, you're a perceptive one. No, I'm not."

"But why?" Stumblepaw asked, looking confused. "I thought taking care of other cats was what you wanted."

"It is." Littlecloud whispered, his eyes flickering from one injured cat to the. Most were only there for mild reasons; sprained paws, scratches, colds. It was uncommon for cats with more serious injuries that were less likely to recover to survive long. "But not like this."

"What do you mean?"

Briarpaw cuffed his brother on the head. "I'm sure that we've bothered Littlecloud enough with your questions."

"No, it's fine. I don't mind." Littlecloud assured them, though his gaze kept jumping to where the other medicine cats lie sleeping in their nests. "It's just; I wish that I could do more for them. The injured warriors I mean. Herbs are hard to come by in leaf-bare, and it's hard for only three cats to gather enough herbs for a clan as large as this, even in green-leaf." Suddenly, his voice turned wistful. "In the old days, warriors used to help medicine cats gather herbs, and there weren't so many cats to a clan. Many more cats survived."

"The old days?" Briarpaw asked before he could help himself.

Littlecloud's eyes widened, and he cast another nervous glance back at the other two sleeping medicine cats, his eyes lingering on Darkflower, his apprentice. His voice became hushed, and the two apprentices had to lean in closer to hear it.

"Yes, back before Bloodclan. Before Scourge came to the forest."

"What are you talking about?" Briarpaw demanded. "I thought the forest had always belonged to Bloodclan. There were cats here before us?"

"Yes." Littlecloud said patiently, his voice barely a whisper. "We're not supposed to talk about it; it's forbidden. But there were clans before this one. That's part of the reason you bare clan names and why apprentices are trained by mentors. When Bloodclan came, they shattered the clans, but did not destroy them completely. Some of the survivors joined Bloodclan, and through them some of the old traditions have been kept alive."

Briarpaw's head was spinning. "Why are you telling us this if it is forbidden?"

"I don't know." He admitted, his eyes cast upward at the stars. "Maybe it's just nostalgia, or maybe wishful thinking. But I look at the young cats of this clan and I see hatred and fear and anguish, and that is no way to live." Suddenly, Littlecloud looked down at them, his eyes shining. "And when I look at you brothers, I see loyalty and courage, and I see in you hope."

Briarpaw stood, turning his back on Littlecloud, thoroughly unnerved. Suddenly, he didn't want to be in the medicine clearing anymore; he wanted to be far, far away. "Come on Stumblepaw, we should go."

Ignoring his brother's mews of protest, Briarpaw set off across the clearing, feeling Littlecloud's gaze burn in to his back the entire way. At the edge of the reeds, he hesitated, glancing back to make sure that Stumblepaw was following.

His eyes locked on one of the medicine cats, curled up in her nest, her black pelt almost invisible in the shadows and her silver paws tucked neatly underneath her. Her icy blue eyes stared straight at Littlecloud. She definitely didn't look nearly as asleep as she had been pretending to be a moment before.

Briarpaw shuddered. Darkflower.

As if she could hear his thoughts, the she-cat's eyes suddenly met his, piercing blue eyes that could only belong to one other cat. Yes, she had inherited her name from her mother, who had died shortly after her birth, but her eyes and the air she held about her she had definitely inherited from her father.

Briarpaw felt the fur on the back of his neck rise, and he turned and leaped raced through the reeds and in to the river, ignoring Stumblepaw's yowl of protest. Calm down mouse-brain. He told himself. She's a medicine cat; she's not going to claw your ears off.

But worry stabbed at Briarpaw's heart, because he was sure, positive that he had seen a knowing gleam in her eyes, a self-satisfied look that a hunter might give mouse trapped in between his claws, just before delivering the killing blow.

One glance at the look on Darkflower's face and Briarpaw was certain that she had heard every word that Littlecloud had told them.


Sorry for the lateness, school has been crazy. Now that midterms are over though, updates should be more frequent. Then again… that also depends on how many reviews I get.

To those of you who also read my other story, The Truth About Warriors, I promise an update is coming soon. My sarcastic side has taken a nose dive from school stress. I'll try and have a chapter up before Christmas.