This is basically a boring chappie that is needed in order to get from on part of the story to the next. Next chappie, Honeypaw is going to confront this problem of her reoccuring nightmares with Jaylion's help. You see where I'm going with this, well, people who've read the Sight? Luvya all, my beautiful readers -♥ katklaws

PS- The silvery blue cat was Bluestar and, just so ya know, the broad-shouldered tabby tom with amber eyes? Who is the only cat we know that is dead with those features? (Hint: It's not Brambleclaw)

Chapter Eleven: Waking Up

"Roscoe."

The tom simply blinked sadly and slowly began vanishing, face turning away in disappointment. Honeypaw tried to leap forward, to see him again, to scent him again, but her paws were fixed to the ground. In fact, her whole body was stuck, rigid as ice. For a few seconds, her very voice was sucked out of her body by an unseen force and she struggled to get it back.

"No! Roscoe, don't leave! What have I done to upset you? I'm sorry!"

Suddenly a set of teeth nipped her shoulder and Honeypaw leapt to her paws, the dream still vivid in her eyes. Cloverpaw and Larkpaw hovered nearby nervously, but it seemed that it had been Redpaw who'd bitten her shoulder. He gave her an apologetic look but also seemed relieved enough to pass out. Cloverpaw gave him an irritated look, but Larkpaw just looked at Honeypaw with blinking eyes. She was a small, dark-furred tabby with great amber eyes, narrow shoulders and an air of gentleness.

She bobbed her small head, asking in a small voice, "Who's Roscoe?" Honeypaw froze where she stood, eyes wide in shock as Larkpaw continued, "You kept saying it in your sleep."

It took quite a bit of effort for Honeypaw to shake off the numbing sensation that spread through her limbs and relocate her voice, "Eh, he was- was an old friend of mine that taught me a lot. He got killed awhile back, though, and I miss him a lot."

Larkpaw's eyes narrowed in thought but she gave the older she-cat a sympathetic nod, "I understand." And with that, she left the den, Redpaw and Cloverpaw scurrying after her. Apparently, despite her small form, she was the leader of the those siblings.

That left Honeypaw alone, trembling in the warm darkness of the Apprentices' den. But, she was due for hunting training so she shook off the dream for now and emerged into the slowly brightening clearing to find Ashfur already waiting for her.

The tom seemed happy to see her. "Come on, Honeypaw," he said with a quiet cheerfulness, "We're burning daylight."

Ashfur led his apprentice into the forest, the dry leaves crinkling beneath their padded paws, until they came upon a nearby sandy clearing. There were already one or two pairs of ThunderClan cats battle training. Ashfur stopped and looked around, taking a final full breath before giving Honeypaw a glance.

"We won't be practicing fighting skills now but we probably will later," he explained, "What I want to do first is get the basics down. You have to learn before you can begin hunting that in ThunderClan territory, the thing to hunting is stealth. You have to maneuver through the undergrowth silently and wait for prey. Now, here's the hunting crouch... "

Honeypaw spent the next day practicing and perfecting her crouching and creeping until she finally caught her first prey. Under the heavy branches of a bush, she listened to the rustling of some tiny creature, probably a mouse or water vole straying from its burrow in that stream close by ...

Suddenly, Honeypaw's fur was lightly tugged from a different angle, not towards the rodent but now, she was no longer downwind. Honeypaw gritted her teeth, knowing that she could take a few steps forward and pounce, accept she'd been trying to wait for it to stray some more from that fallen tree.

She felt the wind change a bit more and Honeypaw knew it was now or never. Creeping one, two, three paces forward, she wriggled her hunches instinctively and leapt out in an explosion of energy. The leaves gave a frustrating rustle and the small figure jumped away but Honeypaw crashed onto it, smacking it desperately with an outstretched paw just before it could vanish beneath the log. It gave a tiny mewl before Honeypaw could bite its neck.

She lifted her head triumphantly with the limp vole in her jaws. A wonderful feeling flooded her limbs and the wind suddenly rose and plastered her fur down as if she were racing across the ground. I'm no kittypet! She cried mentally. I'm a clan cat, strong and fierce and clever! I can catch any prey, beat any no-good rogue out there and I can certainly run faster than I could in the old days.

Even though the old days had been no more than a half moon ago, Honeypaw had improved quite a bit. As she worked her way out of the undergrowth, she jumped at the sudden appearance of Ashfur. He purred comfortingly as she forced her bristling fur down.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were doing," the gray-flecked tom explained, "Bad luck on the thrush earlier, those are difficult on first tries, what with the wings and all. You were very clever here, knowing to jump then before the wind shifted completely. Come, I bet you're tired from this heat."

But Honeypaw shook her head. "No, there's still some time till the sun sets," she mewed, placing her catch on the ground, "I can still do some hunting." Ashfur looked slightly offended but he quickly replaced that look with a warm smile.

Honeypaw resisted another shudder. Despite that kind smile, the easy stance and the lazy flick to his dark tail, Honeypaw looked into those dark blue eyes and saw the sliver of ice-cold darkness. She could almost imagine him thinking angrily on how she went against his decision.

:-;-:

By the time Honeypaw returned to camp with her mentor, violent red streaks of the dying sun stroked the sky while a soft lavender seeped from the opposite horizon in herald of the night. In her exhausted jaws hung a single creature, a limp adder, eyes gleaming dully in the quarry's shadows .

Apparently, towards the ShadowClan border on a sandy stretch of crumbled stone and undergrowth that adders had taken a liking to, Honeypaw had just barely avoided being bitten by their toxic fangs. The apprentice had been left shaken by the sudden appearance of the deadly snake and found she was too unnerved to continue hunting.

Meanwhile, Ashfur emerged behind her from the thorny barrier with the other catches made by Honeypaw; a water vole, a mouse and a shrew. As Honeypaw headed for the fresh-kill pile, the other apprentices gathered around to admire the catch.

"Ugh, I don't even remember how I did it," Honeypaw said, quivering as Hailpaw mewed in wonder. "All I know is that I just heard it rustling through the grass, 'cause you know there's been so little rain lately? Well, I saw it just as it was rearing back to strike! My heart was racing, and I saw a blur as it dove but I leapt back then landed on its neck, with my claws. See there, right below the head!"

Honeypaw gave a nervous chuckle. Her fur was still prickling from the experience but she wasn't lying when she said how amazed her mentor had been. Ashfur had been shocked, albeit impressed, but worried all the same. He also felt it important to inform Firestar about that adder-infested stretch.

But as Ashfur stepped away, Firestar appeared. His fur was a brilliant orange and Honeypaw felt intimidated by how knowing his emerald eyes were.

"Honeypaw?" he called, "I heard you caught an adder today. I'm impressed." He paused and memories seemed to float over his gaze. "An old friend of mine did the same long ago, but he left ThunderClan for a different life. Good work, and I'll be sure to remind patrols of that area. It's along the ShadowClan border, right?" Firestar seemed already aware of this information and only asked to raise the newest apprentice's spirits. Honeypaw flushed under her fur as fellow young cats nudged her sides and hid their laughter.

But for the first time that day, she truly forgot the disappointment that had punctuated Roscoe's eyes in the silver-washed clearing of her dream.