I don't own Warriors!
The Quest of Shadows
Chapter 9
Only a day of apprenticeship, she thought, and I already have seen a cat die. Stormpaw trembled, shaking her head. Where do we go now?
"Stormpaw! Wolfpaw!" cried a familiar voice. She turned around to see Firefoot darting towards them, his expression concerned. "What are you doing? You look horrible!"
Stormpaw explained to him what happened, his expression growing more and more frightened with each word.
"Well, you're in no condition to travel," he said firmly. As much as she didn't want to believe it, she knew he was right. Wolfpaw was crumpled in a heap in the grass, and Stormpaw could feel herself growing tired.
"We can't go back to our Clan," Stormpaw said miserably. "But I don't want to intrude on ShadowClan territory."
"I can take you to camp," Firefoot said reassuringly.
Stormpaw paused, remembering the stories Amberfeather would tell about cold-hearted ShadowClan, but then nodded. They had nowhere else to go.
"Follow me." Stormpaw nudged her brother up and they staggered behind Firefoot. They padded through the swampy forests, tall pine trees littering the forest with their pungent-smelling needles. They arrived at a small sinking in the muddy, cool earth. It was surrounded by brambles and full of an acrid scent that smelled a bit like pine needles.
Two cats stood guard at a small opening in the bramble wall. Two she-cats, one pure white with blue eyes, the other a tortoiseshell with green eyes.
"Firefoot," growled the tortoiseshell. "I hope that was a nice little stroll you went on."
"Who are these two?" asked the white she-cat, tilting her head inquiringly. "They stink of ThunderClan!" Her silky fur bristled.
Stormpaw was afraid she'd have to explain everything, but was relieved when Firefoot merely flicked an ear.
"These two are very tired," he responded calmly. "They will explain everything after a rest." The tortoiseshell opened her mouth in protest, but the white cat shot her a look and she closed it. They stepped aside and Firefoot led the siblings inside.
Stormpaw looked around, observing the other cats closely. They didn't look that different than ThunderClan cats at all! There were cats sunning themselves on rocks, apprentices bragging about their skills, and kits playing moss-ball.
A muscular dark gray tom was sitting on a large stump in the middle of camp, grooming himself. He stopped when Firefoot approached him, his amber eyes kind. "Firefoot," he said, his voice authoritative but not hostile and cruel like Sunstar's. "Who are these new cats?"
"I will tell you," Firefoot replied, "once you give them a place to rest." The tom paused, then nodded.
"They can stay with the apprentices," he told them, "in some of the extra nests." Firefoot dipped his head, then led them to a bramble den with several apprentices sitting outside of it. There was a pale brown tabby she-cat, a pale gray she-cat, a brown and white she-cat, and the smallest was a brown tom with a white belly.
"Hello, Sleetpaw, Blossompaw, Daisypaw, Raggedpaw," he greeted them. "This is Stormpaw, and her brother, Wolfpaw." Daisypaw wrinkled her nose. "Why do they smell like ThunderClan?" she complained.
"We-," Stormpaw was about to say, when Firefoot cut in.
"They need to rest first," he said again. "Their leader . . . " The apprentices all seemed to immediately understand. They even looked sympathetic.
"You're welcome to stay in the extra nests," Blossompaw suggested. "Just don't sleep next to Sleetpaw. She sleepwalks and sleep-fights, too."
"Good to know," Stormpaw meowed shyly. She didn't expect the ShadowClanners to be so outgoing and welcoming to strangers!
"I'll leave you to get acquainted," Firefoot said. "If you need anything, ask one of the apprentices." With a flick of his tail, he was gone.
"Sunstar really is horrible, isn't he?" Sleetpaw muttered to Daisypaw. "Chasing out apprentices barely six moons old! I wouldn't be surprised if he started killing elders and kits." Stormpaw suddenly felt nauseous.
"It really is horrible in ThunderClan, isn't it?" Blossompaw said softly. "Your leader . . . he killed my mother when I was younger. Barely a moon old." The white and brown she-cat swallowed hard. "I remember it like it was yesterday." She turned away. "Anyways, Sleetpaw and Daisypaw are sisters. Raggedpaw is my brother. We're both seven moons old."
"I've only been an apprentice for a day," Stormpaw said bluntly. "I was training to be a medicine cat."
"Maybe you can help Daisypaw and Smalltail in the medicine cat den," Blossompaw suggested.
Stormpaw smiled gratefully, too tired to really be listening. The soft nest seemed to be calling her name. She settled down into it, tucked her tail over her nose, and felt herself drifting off to sleep.
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