The wind blew through the moor, sending the long grass tussling in the breeze. The brown rabbit suddenly stood rigid, aware that it was in danger. It dashed off. A WindClan apprentice in a patch of tall grass, who had been stalking the rabbit, groaned.

"Aw, bugger." he pouted.

There was no point in hiding now. The tom stood up from his crouch. His frame was skinny, but thanks to being part of WindClan he was also lithe and fit. Had the cat been a human, he would have the build of a runner. The tom's pelt was a pale gray, with a white tuft on his chest. His green eyes were full of disappointment as he watched his would-be prey scamper off.

This was Mintpaw.

The apprentice sighed, flicking his tail in frustration. Weaselfur's gonna have a bloody stroke, he thought to himself. Mintpaw's mentor was prone to rants when his apprentice returned from hunting and had nothing to show for it. But what was he supposed to do once it started running? They were too fast for him. Mintpaw wasn't like Smokefoot or Crowpaw; who both made hunting look as easy as breathing.

Mintpaw may have lost that particular rabbit, but he luckily had another one stashed away. The gray cat decided he had enough hunting for a day and it was time to head for camp. He began looking for where he had buried. The tom soon found what seemed to be the long patch of grass, the one where he hid his prey. Hawks and buzzards soared over the moor, just waiting to snatch away prey left unattended. But as he scented the air, Mintpaw quickly realised that it was covered in Crowpaw's scent.

This was Crowpaw's prey; not his own.

The urge suddenly arose; that gnawing, anxious feeling in his gut. Mintpaw felt stiff, staring at the tall patch of grass. It was like a sultry voice, whispering in his ear; take it, Pete. Go on, finders keepers. The tom screwed his eyes shut, turning his back to the tall grass like it had offended him gravely.

Don't you dare, don't you fuckin' dare! Mintpaw mentally bellowed. He wouldn't let his kleptomania win again, the last time he did it turned a border squabble with ThunderClan into a fight. But his fellow apprentice shouldn't have left his kill unattended, anyone could just take it. If Mintpaw was to claim it, surely it would teach him a lesson. Slowly and surely, he turned back towards the patch of grass and took a tentative step forward.

You whacker, you did the same thing! he reminded himself.

"What are you doing?" Crowpaw's voice rang out. Mintpaw turned to face him, meeting his perplexed amber eyes.

"Um. . .nothing." Mintpaw replied, his expression blank. Relief swept over him now that someone was with him, but at the same time he felt awkward under the younger cat's judging gaze.

Crowpaw was as aloof as he was despotic. Since he was apprenticed, the tom seemed to think he was in charge of all the apprentices; probably because his father, Smokefoot, was a respected warrior. While Crowpaw's proud nature may be annoying to some, what annoyed Mintpaw was that the younger tom was a head taller than him.

The smokey-gray cat gave a grunt, pulling out a large rabbit from the tall grass. "Hey, I've got some prey to pick up, wanna come with?" asked Mintpaw.

Crowpaw leered. Like many cats in WindClan, he didn't trust the pale gray tom. Mintpaw could only blame himself and his compulsive need to steal things, despite their lack of value to him. What value did a ball of moss have to him? None. But it satisfied his urges while leaving him in a state of self-hatred.

He probably thinks I flogged it, he definitely knows I tried to flog his. Mintpaw thought to himself. "I caught it myself." the tom added, hoping that would lessen Crowpaw's suspicion. However, Crowpaw continued to leer with suspicion. "I did!" persisted Mintpaw.

"I believe you," Crowpaw responded, turning away from his fellow apprentice. The pale gray tom knew that wasn't true. He frowned, he really had caught it himself. "Where did you put your rabbit?" the younger apprentice asked.

Mintpaw pointed northeast, "somewhere nearby in that direction." he answered.

Crowpaw curled his upper lip. "Oh, towards the ThunderClan border? I've been scenting two warriors from ThunderClan on our territory." he said haughtily.

The pale gray tom had as well when he had been taking his nightly walks, though he hadn't thought much of it because it was so near the border. Surely, it was just some cats whose prey had crossed over the border and they chased it over. If that was the case, then ThunderClan was full of hypocrites. It seemed like those two cats had been getting bolder, whoever they were. "Are you going to tell Ashfoot?" he asked.

The smokey-gray cat whipped around, "of course I am! They're on our territory - and they would stay on their own territory if you hadn't kept chasing that squirrel!"

Mintpaw jumped back, "alright, don't get cut snake with me!" he felt guilt pang in his heart because he knew that Crowpaw was right, it was retaliation for his blunder. Guilt soon turned to anger directed at himself; none of this would happen if he didn't have kleptomania. All it ever did was distance others from him and land himself in hot water, time and time again.

Crowpaw huffed, "whatever. Go get your rabbit, rosbif." as they walked in awkward silence, the tom muttered under his breath; "what does 'cut snake' even mean?"

That night, Mintpaw went on his nightly walk. Casually, he strolled through the moorlands preoccupied by his thoughts. He wondered, who were those two warriors on WindClan territory? He remembered how Alex - or Thornpaw now - had informed him and Silverpaw that those two guys he killed were now among the Clans.

That monster, Sootpaw, had been sent to finish them but ultimately failed; it had almost cost him his own life. Mintpaw shivered, he could remember training with Weaselfur only to hear a massive, echoing 'boom' followed by plumes of ash being flung into the sky. His heart sank when he witnessed that.

Not because Sootpaw was most likely dead - that monster deserved anything that came his way, but because one who couldn't control his powers had now reigned them in.

Were those two cats coming for him? They couldn't be, they didn't know he was part of WindClan. Plus he hadn't killed them, he didn't even want to! While Alex, Lethabo, and Ella were moving in for the kill Peter had faultered. Would those two, Allen and Jordan, come to kill him? But if he explained that he never wanted to kill them then they would leave him alone, right?

His mind was racing with questions. You'll be fine. You've got heaps of power, don't you? Mintpaw reminded himself. It calmed him down and made him feel more confident in himself. The tom was extremely versatile with his powers, he was more than capable of defending himself. With a sigh, he looked up to the moon.

Was Mintpaw doing the right thing?

He had aligned himself with Alex because he had wrecked his life with thievery. It initially started as only food and drink, things that was necessary to survival. He did it because that's what he needed to do to get by. Then it all went downhill when it turned from stealing because it was necessary to an impulsive urge - Mintpaw wanted a second chance. He wanted to go somewhere he didn't have to steal anymore.

The tom didn't think murder would be involved in getting what he wanted, but had kept quiet about it. This was the only thing he didn't resist his greedy soul on. He needed this second chance.

Mintpaw suddenly heard a sound, whipping around to face it. But there was nothing, even as he scanned the terrain. There wasn't a scent in the air, either. He lowered his guard, "must've been the wind." he murmured to himself.

Again, he heard the sound and he turned to find the source of the noise but found nothing. "What the bloody hell is that?" he muttered to himself, leering. Mintpaw called out, "is anyone there?"

From behind him, there was a reddish-pink glow. He had come for him. With wide eyes, he turned around to hopefully counteract what was coming. But Mintpaw was slow, the streak of neon light suddenly began circling him. The light was blinding, forcing him to screw his eyes shut.

Mintpaw cursed, going to activate his powers. But his balance was off and he crashed into the ground with a grunt. The neon light suddenly dimmed. When the tom opened his eyes, he found that he was bound by neon light.

Rings of pink-red light was wrapped around his body, which were thick around his paws and chest. It was a bright, makeshift coffin. Mintpaw couldn't move, feeling the heat from the binds.

There was a dark ginger tom looming over him. Behind him was a tall blue-gray cat, glaring at him. The tom kept him pinned, holding a free paw enveloped in neon close to Mintpaw's face. He tried to move away from it the best he could.

"If you wanna leave here with your face still on, then you're gonna tell me everything you and your entourage got planned. Got that?" he snarled.

Oh, bloody hell. Mintpaw grimaced.