Her senses were at last awakened by roaring water. The blue liquid tossed and turned,
determined to get to its destination. The endless movement sent up a cool mist in the air, a relief from Fireclan's hot greenleaf. She instantly knew where she was.
Herb Creek. The only water source in their territory. Cloudpaw crouched at the bank, lapping the cold, fresh water, so different from the stale, warm, mossy-tasting water she was used to. Nearby, a luscious clump of catmint grew, releasing a tantalizing scent. Cloudpaw longed to eat it, but she knew Gingerpelt needed it for sick cats.
"Come on," Snaketail purred. His voice was threaded with a icy tone that made Cloudpaw shiver. She reluctantly padded after him to a flimsy-looking structure spanning the river, and made of brown blocks that were heavy with the scent of Twolegs.
"You first," Snaketail mewed, gesturing with his tail. Cloudpaw carefully stepped onto it, not sure if it would hold her weight. To her relief, it held firm. She slowly moved across it, making sure to stay in the center, away from the water. For one terrifying moment, her paw slipped into a gap between two blocks, and she stumbled over the edge, only tail-lengths away from the rushing water that she was sure could toss her around as easily as a twig... Finally, after hanging there for what felt like seasons, she hauled herself back onto the bridge and pulled her paw out of the gap. Hurrying on as if nothing had happened, Cloudpaw felt the swish of fur behind her and realized angrily that while she had been about to fall into the the merciless river, Snaketail had been right there and hadn't made any attempt to help her. Her pelt grew hot with fury, but she gave no outward sign of it. Pushing herself along the bridge, her rage grew into suspicion. Did he want her to die?
Is he going to push me off? Cloudpaw glanced at him, but his blue gaze betrayed nothing. She knew Snaketail, who was twice her size, could easily throw her over the edge. And his voice, smooth as pebbles, could easily spin a fully persuasive lie about her death. When they stepped off the bridge, Cloudpaw was grateful for the grass beneath her paws.
At least he can't hurt me now. But she still wasn't so sure. The lack of water didn't make him any less dangerous. As they walked on, Cloudpaw smelled a familiar scent that made her stomach rumble. Vole. She hadn't had prey since early that morning, which seemed like a moon ago.
I wonder if I could catch it...
She spotted a brown shape nibbling on a seed. Checking she was downwind of the vole, Cloudpaw dropped into the hunter's crouch, that she had seen apprentices practicing so many times. She carefully lifted each paw up and set it down as quietly as a feather. One pawstep at a time, she worked her way towards the Clan's next meal. Halfway through, a thinly spread line of
ferns blocked her path. She couldn't work her way around them, as then the wind would blow her scent to the vole. So Cloudpaw slowly worked her way through the ferns, hoping it wouldn't notice the shape looming closer and closer. At one point, her pelt brushed against the ferns. The vole glanced up, and Cloudpaw froze. It went back to its food. Cloudpaw continued stalking it. When she was a tail-length away, Cloudpaw pushed back with her hind legs and pounced. The vole looked up in terror and tried to flee, but it was too late. Cloudpaw landed on top of it, snapping its neck with a satisfying crunch.
"Well done. You can bury it for now, then impress the Clan with it," with a voice mewed beside her. Cloudpaw turned and saw Snaketail. For a heartbeat she was surprised and pleased that he had complimented her. Then she realized that there was no warmth in his mew.
Just flattery, she thought. But why would he want to flatter her? If he was cruel to her, it would her word against his. As the senior cat, Snaketail would be believed, so there was no reason to be nice to her. Cloudpaw sighed and shook her head. She would figure out Snaketail's motivations and goals later. For now, she decided to just focus on training as well as she could. But inside, Cloudpaw was scared of this cat. He could do anything he wanted to her. They were alone in the middle of a deep forest. Cloudpaw had to force her paws still from their trembling.
