Chapter Six
"Looks like someone got in a spot of trouble," Raccoonpaw commented with a wry grin, watching Gladepaw padding into camp, his soggy fur bristled and wielding a scratch on his cheek.
He sat below the leader's rock, where meetings were called, seeming to be waiting for someone.
Leafpaw didn't share his amusement, her amber gaze betraying concern for her sibling. "I hope nothing too bad happened." She watched as his mentor, Jaggedshade, stalked into camp several moments after him, shooting a frosty glare at his apprentice.
What happened with them? The tabby watched with open curiosity as both cats completely blanked each other. The larger, grey and white tom padded towards the deputy, Furzefoot, muttering something inaudible to the scruffy tom. Raccoonpaw craned his neck in a futile attempt to get a closer look.
Leafpaw shoved him back, "It's none of our business what happened." She reminded him, though her gaze was locked on the black tom as he headed towards the leader's den, a burrowed out hollow at the foot of a hill that had been dug out a long time ago by a fox.
Needlestar, the spikey-furred leader, emerged from the den after a long moment and leaped onto the rock, his tail lashing as he stared down at Gladepaw, who was surprisingly unnerved by the presence of the elderly tom.
"Jaggedshade says that you spoke badly about the clan whilst out hunting." His voice carried along the camp and warriors turned to stare at the unfortunate apprentice, who glanced around at the other warriors, his drenched fur bushed out, either with the cold or fear. Raccoonpaw couldn't tell.
"He attacked me! And made me try to find prey in this weather!" He cried out, flattening his ears as he turned to stare accusingly at his mentor, who stepped forward.
"Let me explain," Shoving the younger feline aside, the warrior began speaking, "I asked him to find the prey and with that whining voice of his, he- "
"I do not whine!" The thick-furred tabby snapped, "I was tired, wet, cold, and hungry. It's not my fault that my senses aren't as sharp as they usually are!"
Jaggedshade snorted, "Of course, you poor scrap of fur. Anyways, then he went on to complain about how he wouldn't find anything, scaring off a mouse in the process."
"Then you cuffed me!"
"Because you wouldn't listen to reason." The tom spat, before resuming, "Then you went on to say that the clan should- "
"He's lying!" Gladepaw's expression changed from hostile to almost fearful, "I was the victim here!" He gazed up at Needlestar desperately, "I need a better mentor and not one who forgets every hunting session and claws me when I do something wrong!"
"Silence!" Needlestar's yowl silenced the bickering cats, and both jumped, "Jaggedshade, you are relieved of your duties as Gladepaw's mentor. You have proved to be not yet ready for that responsibility. Please go to your den."
Jaggedshade's face fell, and several cats rushed to talk to him, shooting dirty glares at the apprentice who wielded a rather smug expression as his former mentor left.
"Gladepaw," The leader resumed, his tone dangerously calm. Raccoonpaw felt Leafpaw tense up beside him, quivering slightly. "I am ashamed to call you my grandson. This is the third time you've been warned about your attitude, and I am sick of it!" His voice rose suddenly, and the unfortunate apprentice cowered back.
"I'm sorry! It's hard to hunt in the rain!" His tone was desperate and fearful and Raccoonpaw caught sight of his sister, Cherrypaw, one of her paws raised as if she were desperate to run and help her friend. He silently willed for her to stay out of, as she could imagine the leader's harsh reaction to a cat interrupting the reprimanding.
"That's no excuse! Cats have hunted in fair worse conditions and come back with a mouse that ends up being more useful to the clan than you!" Gladepaw flinched at his cruel words and shrank back,
"I- "
"You know what, I have the perfect punishment for a selfish fox-heart like you!" The bristling tom paused; the camp was silent as every warrior who had gathered around in the rain froze, hardly anyone daring to breathe, "I'll mentor you myself."
Gladepaw seemed to relax, but Needlestar wasn't finished,
"That way you can make absolutely no excuses when you mess up yet another hunt because I'll be there watching. Now you can finally become worth something to the clan." Scanning the crowd of cats that looked away under his burning gaze, he leaped from the rock, "Training starts tomorrow."
The cats all muttered amongst themselves, scattering to resume their duties. Gladepaw shot a relieved glance at Leafpaw and bounded over. Raccoonpaw noticed Cherrypaw's disappointed gaze as she evidently expected him to go to her.
"I thought he was going to make me go poke a sleeping fox, all covered in prey scent, or even make me just sit there on the thunderpath!" He shot a glance over at the older feline who retired to his den once more, his bristling fur the only sign of what happened.
By now, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle and Raccoonpaw shook his fur before somewhat reluctantly padding towards his sister who was surprised to see him sitting beside her.
"He's scary." He commented, shooting a glance over at the already sleeping frame of Nettlestar, "I'd hate to be in Gladepaw's paws."
"Y..Yeah." Cherrypaw was looking past him, her gaze lowered as she abruptly stood and padded off towards the medicine-cat's den.
What did I do wrong? Surprised by how hurt he felt, the tom watched her go, confused by her unusual bluntness.
"Only one cat to talk to." Muttering under his breath, he looked for Swifteagle, who was chatting with another cat. Surprisingly, his mentor actually had a social life! "Hey," He mewed, cheerfully.
"What." The tom looked down, his voice holding a slight growl, "I'm busy."
"I was wondering if you'd come hunting with me. I've been struggling with hunting birds." He kept his voice light, a plan already formed in his mind.
"I can't right now. I told you, I'm busy." He flicked his tail dismissively, turning his head back to face the other cat.
"Well, can I try to hunt them alone?" Swifteagle had something against apprentices hunting alone, or really doing anything without supervision, and the young tom's hope grew as he didn't get instantly snapped at. The senior warrior looked thoughtful,
"I suppose you can. As long as you're back before sundown." He sounded grudging and Raccoonpaw grinned, pelting out of the camp, slowing to glance at the medicine-cats' den. Maybe Cherrypaw would've mellowed out?
He shrugged off the thought of being tailed by a medicine cat. He was allowed on his first solitary hunting mission, and he would bring back so much food alone. He didn't need another cat following. Unless Leafpaw wanted to join.
He shot a hopeful glance at the tortoiseshell, and she caught his gaze, starting to get up. She said something to Gladepaw before padding towards him.
"Want to hunt with me? Swifteagle finally let me go." He tried not to sound too hopeful, though his dismay was most likely visible on his face when the other apprentice shook her head.
"I wish I could, but Gladepaw wants someone to whine to." She shot an amused glance over at her brother.
"He has Cherrypaw," The tabby apprentice looked briefly over at his sister, who was chatting with Halfleaf. In a way, he envied their close relationship, as Swifteagle was a harsh mentor, and he didn't feel particularly close with him. And vice versa, he expected.
"I'll try to come later." She sounded doubtful and turned to go join her brother.
Raccoonpaw could understand why she didn't want to join him, but loneliness tugged at his paws as he padded off into the moors alone.
After several hours of futile searching, a young rabbit hopped right in front of the tom. Whiskers quivering with excitement, the tabby stalked forward before racing after the fearful rodent, skilfully trapping it against a boulder and sinking his teeth into the rabbit, who's squeal was abruptly cut off.
My first lone kill! Pride overshadowed the loneliness and, carrying his bounty, he began heading back to camp when a cat intercepted him.
"That's a good catch." A wiry, though well-fed, tom stood in front of him, his glossy black pelt shining in the sun.
Raccoonpaw could've laughed aloud at the tom's lack of shame. It was clear what he wanted. Eyeing the loner warily, he dropped the rabbit to speak,
"Who are you?" He asked, sounding more wary than hostile.
The tom moved forward and Raccoonpaw's gaze widened in surprise as he noticed that the loner was missing an entire leg. He struggled to mask his shock, unable to tear his eyes from the missing limb.
The tom let out a rusty purr at his open curiosity, and Raccoonpaw lifted his gaze, somewhat guiltily,
"Sorry, I've never seen- "
"A three-legged cat? Many cats have the same reaction when they see me."
"But why do you- "
"Have three paws? I got caught in a fox trap and my farm-keepers took me to the vets and they chopped it off whilst I was asleep."
Fur bristling with the irritation of being repeatedly interrupted, the grey tom tried to speak again, "Who are you?" The tom repeated. He had so many questions about this cat and its weird words, but he would figure them out eventually.
"Me? Windy, the farm, and part-time clan, cat of Winbury." The tom puffed out his chest, "And you are?"
"Raccoonpaw." The tom responded, reluctant to give his name, "What do you mean, part-time clan cat? I've never seen you around before,"
"I don't really come in anymore. Only to come chat with a friend or whatever."
The tom had so many questions; What's Winbury? What's a farm-keeper? What's a vet? Why does Nettlestar let you in? But he could see that the tom, 'Windy', was getting fed up with all the questions.
"So, may I have that rabbit? I'll help you hunt another. Food is scarce around the farm now that my farm-keeper likes to poison them with something instead."
Raccoonpaw wanted to comment about how the loner didn't look particularly underfed but then he spoke again,
"The rabbit isn't for me. There's another cat on the farm and she has kits, and herself, to feed."
"Can I come with you to give it to her?" Raccoonpaw was intrigued by the barn, and unaware of the setting sun that cast its golden rays over the moorland.
Windy seemed thoughtful, before nodding slowly, "She doesn't take intruders kindly, but you can try. I'm sure she'll appreciate it in her own way."
The grey tabby nodded, gratefully, and began following the older tom. "What's her name?"
"Violet. She has two she-kits and three toms."
"That's a lot of kits," Raccoonpaw commented, surprised. In the clan, two kits were the usual amount and any more than that looked to be a struggle. But five!
"Yep. She'll be grateful for a bit of extra food." Windy paused as a large, red and white den loomed up ahead. "This is the barn, where farm-cats live." He led the way in, towards a sheltered nest beneath some weird wood planks that lead upward. "Violet?"
The cat, a pretty ginger and white she-cat, lifted her head, whisking her tail closer to the kits, her ears flattening as she glared suspiciously at Raccoonpaw.
"I, uh, got you a rabbit." He muttered, dropping it beside her before quickly moving back.
"I can hunt for myself; you know." The queen spat, though one of the kits, a ginger and white tom, darted over her tail towards the rabbit. "Mantle!" She snapped, and the kit turned, guiltily.
The tom-kit, Mantle, stared imploringly at his mother, his jaws opening wide into a wail, "I'm hungry!" He cried, turning back to look desperately at the rabbit.
"Go on, Violet. Food's been scarce around here. You can't reject food just because it came from another cat." Windy moved forward and the she-cat looked doubtful.
"Please can we have it!" One of the she-kits pleaded.
Reluctantly, Violet nodded. "What's he doing here, anyway?" She asked, with a cold glance at Raccoonpaw, who was having serious regrets about coming over.
"He caught you the rabbit. He'll be staying overnight, as it's too dark to travel."
Wait, it can't be! Raccoonpaw's pelt bushed out as he looked over at the dark sky. He was meant to be back by sundown! Swifteagle's going to claw my pelt off and use it to line his nest if I don't get back soon!
The farm cats failed to notice his unease and Windy turned around to face him, "Come on, I'll make you a nest. We can hunt another rabbit tomorrow."
His tail dragging, the tabby followed reluctantly, watching the three-legged tom shaping the hay into a nest that didn't look particularly comfortable compared to his mossy nest back in camp.
Dreading the next day, he curled up and eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.