CHAPTER 1
The dry heat of a blistering greenleaf was most strongly felt in Gorseclan territory. They didn't have the lush forest territory of Fernclan, the marsh of Flaxclan, or the coastal breeze of Tussockclan. Their camp was mostly grassland, scrub and karst; their camp stone at the base of a cliff. But they were survivors; they were tough. It was almost fitting, really. If decidedly annoying.
At least that's how Dappledpaw felt about it.
The tortoiseshell she-cat prowled carefully through the tall, tinder-dry grass. Her large ears twitched in one direction, then the next, before fixing to the right. Hmm. That way. She changed direction; her steps soft as she had been taught in her hunting lessons. With prey such as this, being patient and staying invisible to the last moment was vital. She could smell and hear her prey ahead, but the wind angle shifted; her blue eyes lifted to a nearby shrub to see the leaves shift the direction of their gentle bobbing on the breeze. She resisted the urge to huff to herself, and instead of a forward approach, changed her angle to move in a semi-circle arch.
Take in your surroundings and adapt. Being resilient and adaptable was one of Gorseclan's highest values; her mentor always said. Their territory was drought prone, rocky, and open. A mix of open farmland, karst, gorse and broom and scrub trees. Shadowing the territory was the steep cliffs that gave way to the looming mountain said to be a sleeping tiger goddess by the elders. It was oppressive, particularly in leaf bare when the sun sunk quickly behind as days grew short and shadows fell over the territory. And yet, it also was a source of security to Gorseclan cats. Their camp was tucked up against the cliffs in the back of their territory. The nature of their camp protected Gorseclan from both the elements, and their enemies. The elders said in all the history of their clan, attacks on camp were rare. It was too difficult for a raid party to both make it through the entire territory unscathed and breach it's well protected stone walls.
There. Dappledpaw's ears flicked and her pupils dilated. The small mouse nibbling on a seed in the grass ahead was barely worth all this effort, honestly. She was going out of her way; she was quite some distance from the area of the territory assigned to her to hunt in. But it would be a meal for an elder or queen nonetheless. Her tail twitched; her eyes glancing to the side for a moment before she pounced; slamming her paw down on the mouse quickly as it started to scamper. As she took it in her jaws and felt the crunch of its life leaving it's little body, she heard an indignant yowl that was far more satisfying than the catch itself.
"Dappledpaw, that was my mouse!" A rich red ticked tabby tom leapt out from the tall grass nearby, flashing his teeth at her with his ears flat and his ridiculously bushy tail waving behind him.
"I didn't see your claws on it, Rowanpaw." Dappledpaw returned daintily as she set the mouse at her feet. "First come first served; you've been an apprentice long enough to know that."
Rowanpaw's silly tail was bristling up into an arch. Dappledpaw often teased him for it; it looked like it belonged on a pampered kittypet, not a warrior. He was so easy to anger. It was always funny. "That's never been a rule! And like you didn't see me stalking it!" His green eyes narrowed to gleaming slits. "I know you; there's no way you would go out of your way from your designated hunting zone to hunt a mouse unless it was to bug me on purpose!" He wasn't wrong. She'd already caught plenty earlier. Messing with him was a bonus.
"You sure are making an awful fuss over such a small mouse." Dappledpaw licked one of her pristine white paws nonchalantly. "No wonder Icestar won't take you to Gatherings anymore; you act like a bratty kit. It's embarrassing to the clan."
"What did you say?!" Rowanpaw hissed. Dappledpaw snorted as the tom proved her point. She had no idea where he got such a hot temper from; neither of his parents were like this. "You want a fight or something?"
"Sorry, I'm not interested in wasting my time."
"Are you calling me weak?! I'm just as good a fighter as you Dappledpaw, and you know it! I'll take you one on one! Like the old way; I'll challenge you right now!" She watched his claws slide out and dig into the dry soil, and rolled her eyes. Rowanpaw had challenged cats to traditional duels to the death under Gorseclan's old law almost every day since he'd heard the stories from the elders as a kit. He'd been taken in by the old-fashioned shine of glory to the tales. It seemed to be his go-to solution for every little dispute, and given how easily he got wound up, they were frequent. Everyone in the clan had just learned to ignore him.
Honestly, those historic duels were just that. History. Even though fights rarely ended up being to the death in practice; it had been too destructive on the clan to use it as a way to settle disputes, especially in the time it was most popular. A few leaders had even banned its use seasons ago. Nowadays it was technically still allowed to be invoked, but hadn't been in most cats' lifetimes. Mostly Gorseclan cats just told the other clan cats about it at Gatherings as a way to impress and intimidate them.
"Please." She sighed. "You're embarrassing yourself, and honestly, as fun as it is to mess with you, when you react the same way every time... it gets boring." The last word was pointed and emphasised with a blue-eyed stare. "I only really came all this way to let you know that Icestar has chosen who's going to the Gathering tonight." She had swung by camp earlier to drop off a large kill in the form of a rabbit she'd caught with Sedgepaw; it would have been too hard to carry back with the rest later.
This immediately got the red tom's attention. "...And?" His head lifted, his fur flattened and despite her earlier jab about him never going, she could see the hope in his eyes. And she knew why. This was going to be an important Gathering, and Rowanpaw was like her with his ambitions. The politics and general gossip of Gatherings were worth observing. Not that it would help him in the long run. He would never be a leader, because he was never going to outlive her. And she'd never make him her deputy either!
"For some reason Icestar thinks you are worth dragging there for once." Dappledpaw replied, giving him a scathing look before adding; "All of us are going." Gorseclan only had three apprentices right now anyway; Rowanpaw, herself, and her brother Sedgepaw. It wasn't like it was an effort to take all of them along.
He flicked his ear in acknowledgement, seeming to quickly become deep in thought. Not so much as a thank you of course; typical. "I wonder if Flaxclan will still have Swallowstar heading it." He mused aloud; a glint of excitement he couldn't hide in his eyes.
Dappledpaw let out a low note of laughter, batting absent-mindedly at the dead mouse at her feet. "He mustn't be far off carking it. Last Gather he looked like a swift sea breeze would knock him over." Rowanpaw hadn't been taken to the last Gather, which he'd been seething about for days afterwards. It amused her to no end. He was slightly younger than her and Sedgepaw. It was only natural sometimes they'd go without him, but Rowanpaw took everything so personally!
"Anyway, I'd better be getting back to pick up the rest of the kills I buried." Dappledpaw said with a prim sniff and a swish of her long tail. Unable to resist one last jab, she flicked her tail tip in Rowanpaw's face to tickle his nose; causing the tom to hiss and bristle at her. "Try and bring at least one thing back for the fresh-kill pile huh, Red?"
"I've caught prey already!" Rowanpaw spat at her, swatting in the direction of her tail as she pulled it away with a laugh. "And don't call me that!" For some reason any nicknames at all bothered him, regardless of the intended offense. He was like her father; all proper. It was adorable really.
"Aww, honey… the crippled sparrow that fell out of a tree doesn't count…" Dappledpaw pulled a condescending face at him then danced away as he lunged a paw at her with a yowl. "Wait till you see the rabbit Sedgepaw and I caught." She couldn't resist adding further fuel to the fire as she danced away. Dappledpaw could admit, her rival wasn't far off being almost as good at fighting as her, but when it came to hunting both she and Sedgepaw had him beat. She didn't really get why; it couldn't be a reflection of his mentor. Kowhaifall was an excellent hunter; arguably the best in the clan. Guess some cats just sucked at some things! Not her though; she was a leader in the making. Icestar said he'd never seen such potential in an apprentice. That's why he chose to be her mentor personally, after all!
In a good mood after teasing Rowanpaw, as always, the young she-cat left him to stew and trotted across the grassland and scrub, back towards the rest of her kills to gather up and return to camp. She kept an idle eye on some grazing sheep as she uncovered a finch she caught earlier, then moved onto the next spot. Her mind was already elsewhere. She wanted to rest a while before the sun started to set and they had to head off to the Gather. Icestar had hinted he was going to share something big tonight, and she couldn't wait to find out what it was.
By the time she reached camp, the afternoon sun was only just still peeking over the mountains and bathing the rocky outcrops Gorseclan called home in warmth. Dappledpaw weaved past the gorse bushes that gave her clan their name, nodded to Spiderstrike and Horsefoot who were on guard, and slid into one of the narrow passages that led through the stone and brush into the camp proper.
The predominantly limestone outcrops had been weathered with time, making them largely smooth. Dens had been crafted around these outcrops, and small caves in the surrounding cliffs, generations ago by their ancestors. When it rained, water would run down the fern and moss covered cliffs and pool in the karst; offering fresh water right in camp most of the year. The herbalist den; one of two situated into the caves in the cliff, even had a permanent water source that came from somewhere below ground, perhaps. In its own way, Dappledpaw thought her camp beautiful, even in the dry season when it was a bit dusty and barren looking.
At this time of day, and to enjoy the last of the sunshine, the camp was full of cats lazing around basking or sharing tongues and eating. She spied her brother already sprawled out in front of the apprentices' den with a blackbird. Of course he was already eating. A gorse bush sheltered the entrance to the den; and at the moment it was flowering. Small yellow petals were falling in the slight wind today, and Sedgepaw was dusted with the yellow blossom. She flicked her ear in acknowledgement of her brother's meow of greeting as she padded by. Dappledpaw could catch up with him in a moment, she had to drop her kills off first.
The fresh-kill pile sat on a large, smooth stone in the center of camp. It was quite small at the moment, but that was to be expected with both the dry conditions and the fact that many cats were eating their meals right now. She placed her mouthful of prey down, and noticed the rabbit she had brought back earlier was gone. Probably taken to the queens. The nursery was rather full right now. It had Gorseclan in a positive mood, despite the leaner times. Before Icestar became leader, the clan had lost many cats. New warriors in the making were a positive step forward in rebuilding their strength and respect. She saw Honeykit and Pebblekit playing outside the nursery with their mother watching on. They were large now; they must not be far off becoming apprentices. Dappledpaw wondered if she would be a warrior before then. She was hopeful. Icestar had said her assessment would be soon.
"Take a mouse to Longfang, will you, Dappledpaw?" A voice called. The tortoiseshell apprentice turned to see Sorrelwind; the deputy. "You know how he is; hardly out of the den unless he's gathering herbs. I'm sure he's forgotten to eat again." Sorrelwind was the medicine cat's sister, though you'd hardly be able to tell if they didn't look somewhat similar. The two were nothing alike.
"Of course." It was mildly inconvenient when she wanted to rest her own paws before the Gathering, but it wouldn't take a moment to drop a meal off. She picked up the same mouse she had stolen from Rowanpaw earlier, and headed into the herbalist's den; passing into the slight gloom of the small cavern. The strong, mixed scents of plants met her nose, causing it to crinkle.
Longfang was in the back, shuffling herbs around. Currently he had no patients; she wondered what he managed to occupy himself with all day while forgetting to eat. "I brought you a mouse, Longfang." Dappledpaw called, causing the tom to jump visibly, and whip around with wide eyes. Clearly she shocked him. The apprentice only stood there and looked at him flatly. Longfang was well known for his fearful, jumpy nature.
"O-Oh, thank you, Dappledpaw." He blinked at her owlishly, as he seemed to realise he was not in danger. She had no idea why he was so timid. As a herbalist, he was perfectly safe. They were only taught some rudimentary self-defense and not expected to fight, because other clans wouldn't attack them on principle. "Did-did Sorrelwind send you?" He chuckled awkwardly, running a paw over one of his comically oversized ears. As she nodded in response and set the mouse down, Longfang hummed to himself."She takes good care of me." The softly-voiced comment seemed to be more to himself, so Dappledpaw didn't bother with a reply. Honestly, this cat weirded her out, and she didn't want to be here any longer than needed.
"Honestly, ever since Stoatberry died…" He continued to muse to himself as Dappledpaw pushed the mouse towards him. He glanced down at it, and back to her, then away. "Oh, listen to me… go on…" He reached one of his gangly legs out and pulled the mouse over. "Off you go, Dappledpaw. Unless there's something else…?"
"No, no. I'm fine, Longfang. Enjoy your mouse." And maybe get outside more often. Not that she'd be directly disrespectful to a herbalist or anything. She had not known him before the death of his mentor Stoatberry, who had apparently been old as sin yet still ran the show right up until her last few days. The former herbalist had died shortly before she and her brother were born. She wondered if Longfang had always been… like that.
Finally free of duty, Dappledpaw took a finch from the fresh-kill pile for herself and flopped down next to Sedgepaw, who had already finished his own meal and left nothing but bone and black feathers behind. As he began to regale her with tales from his own hunting expedition that day, Dappledpaw was delighted to see a certain red tom slink into camp like he was trying not to be seen, with his own pathetically small catch of prey. Rowanpaw was trying extremely hard not to make eye-contact with his peers as he passed by. And when he got a meal from the pile, he chose to share tongues with his mentor and her friends instead. Dappledpaw exchanged a smug look with Sedgepaw.
As if this would save him from being annoyed all the way to the Gathering later.
