Chapter 12

Mistyfoot relished the cooler dawn temperatures as she settled down with a starling, making sure to first brush away the dew from her spot with a sweep of her plumed tail. Most warriors had just gotten up and moving, and though Mistyfoot had wanted to sleep off yesterday's journey she had one more thing to take care of that she hadn't been able to do last night.

Nightpaw.

The small apprentice was busy this morning. Mistyfoot watched him travel in and out of the nursery with moss, looking more and more annoyed each time he was sent away. Mistyfoot had a moment to start her breakfast before Nightpaw would be available to talk, she guessed.

As she chewed her starling, Mistyfoot spotted Shadepaw heading for the elder's den. The she-cat's gait was stiff and her tail-tip was twitching, and beyond that, Mistyfoot recognized the spark in her eyes.

What has her tail in a twist? Mistyfoot wondered. Shadepaw had inherited her father's temper – that much was public knowledge in ThunderClan – but otherwise she was a rather calm and collected cat. Now it seemed like she was barely keeping her frustration in her pelt. Must be some medicine cat thing.

Finally it seemed like Nightpaw was free from the nursery. The small tom staggered over to Mistyfoot, looking tired already. He flopped down and groaned, "Queens!"

"Ferncloud giving you a hard time?" Mistyfoot guessed.

"I've been running back and forth for moss since I woke up!" Nightpaw complained. "Ferncloud and Snowstep kept sending me back! Now my paws stink!"

Mistyfoot's whiskers twitched with amusement. "This is their first litter," she pointed out. "They want everything to be perfect. You can't blame them for that."

Nightpaw still looked cross. "Oh, as if you'd know!" he huffed. Mistyfoot took no offense from his tone, which was joking despite his annoyance. It all quickly faded. "What did you want to talk about? You've had another sign?"

"Hush!" Mistyfoot hissed, suddenly aware of every eye in camp. She took a moment to examine the warriors around them, looking for cats who might be staring… and unfortunately, locked eyes with the one cat she wished hadn't been looking in her direction.

Tinystar.

"Not here," Mistyfoot decided. There was something about Tinystar's gaze, the way he was staring at her, that made her fur prickle. "In the forest. Sunhigh?"

Nightpaw nodded wordlessly.

Tinystar got to his paws and padded over. Mistyfoot's heart thudded with every paw step he took. Had he overheard? Did he know? She fought not to tremble.

"Nightpaw, I want you to go on patrol with Graystripe and Whitepaw," Tinystar meowed. "They're heading to Fourtrees."

Nightpaw looked perplexed. "But… Dustpelt had me on camp duties today," he reminded his father.

Tinystar's tail flicked. "Are you going to disobey your leader?" he queried, his tone low and serious.

Nightpaw's eyes widened, and Mistyfoot's saw them flash with rebelliousness – yet they tempered into a cold resignment. "No, Father," he muttered, before turning and loping away.

Mistyfoot blinked in confusion – especially when Nightpaw met up with Graystripe and stated he was joining them. The thick-furred gray warrior looked surprised to see him.

Tinystar was already padding away when Mistyfoot switched her gaze to him. He never acts like that! She thought. Suddenly the starling between her paws seemed stale and unappetizing. Tinystar had only intervened in Nightpaw's duties when he'd come to see her.

Did he… did he just try to stop Nightpaw from talking to me? Mistyfoot's throat clenched, and a stone of guilt settled in her stomach. Has he just decided I'm not to interact with any apprentice? Does he think I'll get his son killed?

"Hey, Mistyfoot?"

Cloudtail's voice brought her out of her gloomy thoughts. The fluffy ginger-and-white she-cat was standing over her, tail-tip flicking from side to side. Her blue eyes sparked as she asked, "Want to come hunting?"

Mistyfoot nodded. She took one last bite of the starling, knowing it'd be wasted otherwise. Though it felt like eating bark, she swallowed. Hunting would be good, yes; it would get herself out of her own mind.

And maybe I can see Nightpaw in the forest while we're out, Mistyfoot thought, trotting after Cloudtail. Maybe it's all in my head, and Tinystar really wanted Nightpaw on that patrol…

Mistyfoot did not end up meeting with Nightpaw at all for the rest of the the day. Every time she thought she had a chance, he'd been swept off on some other task, or she'd been asked to join another patrol, until finally Mistyfoot had padded in to camp to find Nightpaw sound asleep.

She felt badly. She didn't want to keep him out of the loop – she'd promised, even if he didn't end up leaving the Clan with her. As she settled down to sleep she resolved to meet with him the next morning – but the moment she left the warrior's den she was swept up in the dawn patrol without a moment to check for Nightpaw's whereabouts.

As she padded in to camp, muscles awake and ready for the day, she focused her attention on looking for Nightpaw. I just need to tell him one thing! She thought, annoyed. Why is everything conspiring to keep me from doing that?

Mistyfoot ducked her head into the apprentice's den and sighed. Nightpaw was gone, and a quick look and scent around the clearing showed that Dustpelt was gone, too. Mistyfoot's tail lashed. What in StarClan's name was going on? Other apprentices weren't even as busy as Nightpaw suddenly was! Had he misbehaved in some way? Have I?

Still, no cat was hounding her for a patrol – Mistyfoot had time to stretch her legs and look for Nightpaw herself, and maybe hunt on the way, too. She headed for the gorse tunnel, resolved.

"Mistyfoot?"

Mistyfoot halted, trying to keep her pelt from bristling at Graystripe as he approached. Whitepaw, his apprentice, padded up beside him.

"Want to come training with Whitepaw and I?" the older gray warrior asked.

Mistyfoot frowned, confused. "Why?" she asked. Crowding the training hollow with warriors who weren't mentoring the apprentices within just wasn't something ThunderClan did. What was the point?

Graystripe shrugged. "Something Tinystar wants to try," he mewed. Mistyfoot found he was pointedly avoiding meeting her eye. "An order's an order."

It's an order? She thought, her stomach twisting. Tinystar ordered this? Why? To rub in the fact that I'll probably never have an apprentice again? To remind me of how badly I screwed it up with Shrewpaw?

Guilt would have pricked her paws yesterday, but now it was annoyance. She was tired of being constantly reminded that she had failed as a mentor. Still, an order was an order – Mistyfoot had to follow Graystripe to the training hollow, and look as if she was just fine with it.

The sun was climbing overhead, and Mistyfoot was bored.

Graystripe and Whitepaw were training in the hollow, yes, but there was just nothing for Mistyfoot to do – Whitepaw was an older apprentice, and had already mastered basic techniques. Now it was up to Graystripe to cater the more advanced moves to his apprentice's needs.

Spiderpaw and Mousefur joined them partway through, leaving Mistyfoot with even less to do. Despite her friendship with Mousefur, Mistyfoot couldn't interrupt Spiderpaw's training. All this was doing was making Mistyfoot miss Shrewpaw, making her agitated and anxious as she thought of all the things she could have done with him, had he lived.

Tinystar really must be punishing me, she decided. Because this is torture.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, the training session was over.

Mistyfoot's skull was pounding, her paws itching to be doing anything but sitting and watching. She looked up at the sky with dismay – evening was already upon the forest. She dug her claws into the sand. Was I really ordered to just waste an entire day doing nothing?

Punishing her was one thing – but making her sit like a lump was surely punishing the Clan as well! I could have been hunting or patrolling at least! She thought, lashing her tail. This is ridiculous!

Mistyfoot followed Graystripe and Whitepaw into camp, her tail dragging in the dust. Maybe I can go hunting to make up for it, she thought.

A flash of black caught her eye – Nightpaw was passing her!

Quickly Mistyfoot leaned down and hissed, "Meet me behind the nursery, as soon as possible!"

Whether Nightpaw had heard or not, Mistyfoot excused herself from Graystripe's company and headed for the nursery. When she was sure no cat was watching, she slipped behind the brambles and into a small pocket of space between the nursery and the camp boundary. She waited there in the shadows, thorns pricking her pelt.

Finally Nightpaw appeared.

"I'm sorry!" he meowed immediately, his eyes wide. "I haven't been able to get away at all!"

"Neither have I!" Mistyfoot breathed. "It's been ridiculous – I just spent half the day sitting on my haunches watching apprentices train!"

Nightpaw looked ready to wail. "I-I don't know what I did!" he sputtered. "Suddenly Tinystar is on my tail about everything I do! Even Dustpelt isn't this bad! I didn't tell anyone, Mistyfoot – not even Shadepaw, though I doubt she'd even listen to me… I swear it on my whiskers!"

Mistyfoot believed him; it was hard not to, from the earnest look in his eyes. She rested her tail on his shoulder. She couldn't imagine being Tinystar's kit – being Bluestar's was bad enough. "We have time now," she mewed. "And I do have more to say about my dreams."

"Then hurry and tell me!" Nightpaw insisted. "Before we get caught!"

Mistyfoot opened her mouth to tell him about the lake and her plans to leave – but the brambles rustled at almost the exact same moment, and Tinystar pushed his way into the gap. His eyes were cold as ice as he looked upon his son and his former apprentice, his tail bristling with annoyance.

"What are you two doing here?" he demanded coldly.

Nightpaw flinched against Mistyfoot at his father's tone. Mistyfoot frowned at Tinystar. "We're just talking," she insisted. "There's no harm in that."

Tinystar narrowed his eyes. "There is when it's out of sight, when there's work to be done," he stated simply.

"I've been working all day," Nightpaw complained. "I'm tired, Father!"

"So am I," Mistyfoot agreed. Frustration smoldered in her belly. "We've been working twice as hard as any cat – I demand to know why!"

Tinystar's silence filled the space behind the nursery with a chill that rivaled leaf-bare nights. It took all Mistyfoot had to keep her eyes locked on his. Nightpaw trembled beside her.

"I am Clan leader," Tinystar hissed. "My word is law, and by the warrior code I expect obedience!"

Mistyfoot bristled.

"I will not have cats idling their time chatting when there is work to be done!" Tinystar went on, teeth bared. "Mistyfoot – since you seem to be obsessed with apprentices lately, you won't mind taking care of the elders for the rest of the day. And Nightpaw – you will do anything but associate with this lazy excuse for a warrior - is that clear?"

Tinystar turned his back and pushed back out into camp, taking the coldness with him. Nightpaw slithered onto his belly, trembling, and whimpered.

Mistyfoot dug her claws into the earth, staring at the space her former mentor had been. He was right – his word was law – but he had never been this unfair or unreasonable before. What in StarClan's name has gotten into him? He's acting like…

Mistyfoot hunched her shoulders. For once, the thought of leaving the Clan seemed a good thing – even if it meant earning Tinystar's anger legitimately.