I fixed a small error in Chapter 2 where Littlecloud was mentioned to be older than Graystripe. Sorry about that!

Chapter 8

Hawkpaw woke, sighing.

His dreams had led him in circles, chasing a scent he didn't know. Hawkpaw had the mouse between his claws, but it faded to dust as soon as he caught the scent of the unknown ShadowClan cat. It had been stronger this time, but he still had no idea who this cat was.

He rolled over in his nest, nearly bumping into Softpaw. The tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat was still sleeping, and he pulled away before he woke her. She still smelled of the herbs she had helped gather the day before, helping Leafpool gather supplies from around the territory.

The apprentice's den was otherwise empty. Sparrowpaw and Milkpaw were chatting and eating just outside, and as Hawkpaw slipped out of the den he spotted Nightpaw trotting out of camp with Olivenose.

Camp life seemed to be going on as usual, but to Hawkpaw it all seemed to matter little. Today he would be receiving his first round of battle training – from Tigerheart!

The thought made him happy as he trotted to the fresh-kill pile. It drove away the thought of ShadowClan never finding a new camp. He was finally getting some real training! He had a feeling that with Smokefoot watching over him he would be told to clean out some cats' den any time now.

He did feel bad about Smokefoot falling ill, though. Hawkpaw wished him no harm, but Tigerheart was the mentor he had always wanted.

Hawkpaw selected a lizard from the pile – freshly-caught. He settled himself near Sparrowpaw and Milkpaw, who were sharing tongues idly as they waited for their mentors. As he ate, Softpaw woke and joined him with a bird in her jaws.

"So what's the plan for you today?" Hawkpaw asked, glancing to the others.

"Sunhigh patrol," Milkpaw mewed.

"Den-cleaning," complained Sparrowpaw.

Softpaw was cleaning her whiskers as she mewed, "Not sure yet – Tawnypelt didn't say anything to me."

"Well, Tigerheart promised me some battle training," Hawkpaw mewed gratefully. With a glance at Sparrowpaw, he couldn't help but mew, "Bad luck on picking up den duty, though."

Sparrowpaw curled his lip, grumbling under his breath.

Hawkpaw flicked an ear. He thought he caught the phrase, "Clan blood", but he chose to ignore it. Sparrowpaw never really had good things to say about Hawkpaw. The large tabby sat up and huffed, leaving the group. Milkpaw tossed her head and followed, tail fluffed.

Frowning, Hawkpaw pushed away his lizard's remains. Milkpaw was like a sister to him – how could she act so callous?

"Don't let her bother you," Softpaw murmured, looking up at him.

Hawkpaw glanced at Softpaw.

"She's just trying to get Sparrowpaw's attention," Softpaw went on.

"She's being a frog-brain for some tom?" Hawkpaw exclaimed.

Softpaw shrugged. "I wouldn't complain," she mewed. "Toms can be just as frog-brained when they want attention from a she-cat."

"I'd never be that frog-brained," Hawkpaw promised. "Ever."

Softpaw's whiskers twitched, and she said nothing.

"Hawkpaw!"

Hawkpaw turned and found Tigerheart approaching. He looked flustered.

"What is it?" Hawkpaw asked.

"I'm sorry, Hawkpaw," Tigerheart huffed. "But Tawnypelt needs me for another patrol. We can't do battle training today."

Hawkpaw's eyes widened, feeling disappointment clench in his stomach.

"We'll do it tomorrow," Tigerheart promised.

"So, what am I supposed to do for today?" Hawkpaw asked. He supposed that having the training pushed back was no issue – just so long as he wasn't stuck on den-duty with grumpy Sparrowpaw.

Tigerheart glanced at Softpaw. "Hunt for the Clan," he decided.

"But, I've…" Hawkpaw stammered. "I haven't been hunting on my own before." He hadn't been hunting often at all, for that matter.

"Go with Softpaw," Tigerheart told him. "She can hunt well enough and it would be good for you to get some tips."

Hawkpaw glanced at his denmate. Softpaw? Something about hunting with Softpaw made his paws tremble. Would he impress her? Would he fail miserably? Something made him worry about the fact that he might just not be good enough, and that he would just make a fool out of himself.

"Hunt for the Clan," Tigerheart meowed. "Be back by late mealtime, and remember to obey the code – the Clan must be fed first."

"Of course," Softpaw mewed. "We will keep to that."

"Then go off and do good," Tigerheart told them. "Stay away from the borders, and the Twoleg nest. There's plenty of prey around to be found."

The tabby warrior waved his tail in farewell and bounded off to join Tawnypelt. Their patrol headed out not long after.

Hawkpaw kneaded his paws into the ground. He wished he were with them, feeling the same feelings he had experienced the day before. Exploring his territory, getting to know every pawstep…

I can do that with Softpaw, too, he realized.

"Ready to go?" she asked with her soft tones.

She was standing before him, well-groomed, with strong muscles beneath her tortoiseshell-and-cream pelt. The sun shone on her dappled pelt, highlighting her markings in yellow-gold. Her eyes were clear and full of Softpaw's gentle humor, humor that Hawkpaw had grown up with as a kit at their shared mother's belly.

Hawkpaw found his whiskers twitching.

"Of… Of course," he stammered. "Let's go."

The sky was red with evening as Hawkpaw and Softpaw made their way around the territory again. They were both tired and paw-sore, but neither of them could deny the amount of prey they had caught.

ThunderClan's border loomed ahead of them by several fox-lengths. The scent was faint. Hawkpaw could see the hill where the Twoleg nest with the kittypets stood, and knew they had to avoid it. Prey-scent was faint here, but Hawkpaw could smell shrew.

He and Softpaw had spent the day touring the territory together, walking side-by-side through the thin undergrowth. Pine needles softened their pawsteps, allowing for the sound of the woods to blanket them in a tranquil haze of bird calls and rustling branches.

They had talked a lot, too – quietly, of course. They talked about training and what their favorite type of fresh-kill was. They talked about Littlecloud, and Hawkpaw had asked Softpaw what she thought of Leafpool – "She's sweet enough, I suppose. Very good at what she does, but a ThunderClan cat through and through." They talked about the possibility of a new camp, hunting tips, and so many other things that Hawkpaw felt dizzy for recalling.

It had been an amazing day.

"Let's see if we can't catch those shrews I smell," Hawkpaw offered.

Softpaw sat down. Her eyes were sparkling, but they were tired. "You can," she sighed, lifting a paw for a wash. "I'm exhausted."

"No wonder," Hawkpaw purred. "You caught almost twice as much as I did."

Softpaw flicked an ear. "Don't let that get you down," she murmured. "I have more experience than you. You did very well for yourself."

Hawkpaw supposed that a frog and two mice were a good show for all his work – but Softpaw had managed to make him look like a newborn kit. Hawkpaw had been in awe of her as she made a mighty leap to catch a blackbird to add to her pile.

I can't wait until my legs are powerful enough for that! Hawkpaw decided.

Softpaw licked a claw gently. She frowned and commented, "I think I wrenched it."

Concern flashed through Hawkpaw. "Are you OK?" he wondered.

"It must have been when I leaped for that bird," Softpaw told him. "It's fine – I just need some rest. We should head back soon, before it gets dark."

Hawkpaw nodded in agreement. The sun was already setting, and though Hawkpaw liked the way the red light colored Softpaw's fur, he knew if she was hurt they wouldn't be able to fend off anything dangerous.

"Should we head back now?" Hawkpaw asked.

Softpaw flicked an ear. "With that shrew just begging to be caught? Of course not!" she purred. "Go after it – shrews are quick, though. Don't let it get away from you."

Hawkpaw twitched his whiskers at her blessing. He opened his jaws and breathed in the scent of that shrew. He imagined the small brown creature just daring to make an escape from Hawkpaw's powerful claws – but unlike Hawkpaw's dreams, this prey would not escape him.

He tracked the creature into the undergrowth, being extra careful of how he moved his muddied paws. The ground was harder and firmer here, unlike ShadowClan's usual soft and marshy territory. It just told Hawkpaw that ThunderClan's territory was not far. He knew better than to cross the border.

The shrew's scent was strongest in a clump of bracken. Two tail-lengths away, Hawkpaw's sharp eyes could spot the creature rummaging for seeds below the leafy fronds. Hawkpaw dropped into a crouch, prepared to spring. Shrews were fast, but Hawkpaw was determined to catch this one.

One…

Two…

Three!

Hawkpaw leaped…

And fell just short. The bracken waved wildly, and the shrew darted out of the undergrowth and into the open. Hawkpaw gave chase, pounding after the little brown streak. Twoleg scent just barely brushed his nose as the trees disappeared for a split second. It was all a blur.

He was gaining… but when he made another leap he missed and fell onto the ground. He watched the shrew dart away into the safety of a clump of brambles, never to be seen again.

Hawkpaw pushed himself up, cursing. The strong scents of plants and trees surrounded him, and when he turned to head back towards Softpaw he realized by her expression his mistake.

He had crossed the border!

Terrified, Hawkpaw streaked back to the ShadowClan side. Softpaw was waiting there, her eyes wide – the humor gone. Her tail was bristling slightly.

Hawkpaw blinked at her, realizing that the clump of ferns where the shrew had been hiding had not been too far away from the border. The smell of ThunderClan was so familiar to the cats of ShadowClan now that it was hard to really tell the difference between it and his own Clan-scent. Twoleg-scent had been his only clue, and he had streaked right over the Twoleg path and it's faint stench.

The two collected their prey, hidden beneath a low-growing spruce, and walked back to camp in a tense silence as the sun sank behind the trees.