CHAPTER 4
Sunpaw lay on his back, listening to the soft breathing of his denmates. Their sleeping habits had become familiar to him in these past nights. Berrypaw and Hazelpaw snored, Mousepaw talked in his sleep, Honeypaw and Featherpaw twitched, Poolpaw stretched out.
That left Sunpaw, awake despite his drooping eyelids. He had not slept well in over a moon.
Every time Sunpaw closed his eyes and dreamed, it was of Badgerpaw. Some of the dreams were pleasant - which made waking all the more bitter. Other dreams were haunting.
I should have been able to prevent it, Sunpaw thought mournfully. Maybe if I'd gone on the squirrel hunt, she'd be alive. Maybe if I had insisted she watch me climb the Sky Oak. Maybe if, maybe if, maybe if…
Sunpaw rolled over and got to his paws. He itched to move, unwilling to fester in his thoughts.
Sunpaw padded out into the hollow and made his way to the thorn tunnel. Dustpelt stood at the entrance.
"Going somewhere?" he meowed as Sunpaw approached.
"I can't sleep. I'm going to go hunt," he replied.
Dustpelt eyed up the young apprentice. Finally, he sighed. "Don't expect Stormfur to take it easy on you if you're tired in the morning," he grunted.
"Yes, Dustpelt," Sunpaw meowed, rushing out into the woods.
Sunpaw marched up the slope away from camp, and then down the path toward the lake. He trotted briskly, hoping the pace would tire him out until he could fall asleep. He padded alongside the stream that led to the lake, relishing in its babbling.
The trees overhead parted, and Sunpaw could see the stars above. A few gray clouds drifted lazily across the dark sky. The moon was nearly a half.
The soft grass beneath Sunpaw's paws turned to pebbles and sticky sand as he approached the lake. The smell of the water was like home. The soft churning of gentle waves soothed Sunpaw's racing mind. He sat, curling his tail over his paws, and closed his eyes.
Something stirred the leaves behind him.
Sunpaw whipped around, ears pricked. Pawsteps beat quick and light on the forest floor behind him. Sunpaw squinted in the darkness, and then he saw it. A squirrel!
The squirrel raced up the nearest tree, disappearing into the highest branches. Sunpaw got to his paws, contemplating climbing after it. But as moments passed, he realized that his opportunity was gone.
With a sigh, Sunpaw turned back to the lake. He stared at the shore, at the rubbish floating in the shallows, bobbing up and down with the waves.
Then his head tilted. What's that?
Sunpaw padded forward, reaching out with a paw. He dabbed at the surface of the water, raking the object closer to him.
Oh, Sunpaw thought. It's just a stick.
But, as he rolled it out of the water, Sunpaw realized it was unlike any stick he had ever seen. The bark had been stripped away, the wood beneath it bone-dry. it could not have been in the water long, or it still would be sodden despite the newleaf air. Sunpaw ran his paw over it. The exposed wood felt sleek beneath his pad.
Even odder than the sleekness, though, were the scars scratches across the branch, too neat and regular to be natural. Some of them were crossed by other lines, like two paths going in different directions.
Sunpaw traced one of the lines with his claw.
Suddenly, Sunpaw's heart clenched. A wail built up in his throat, and it took everything he had not to release it. Immense sorrow clutched Sunpaw, sending him into a crouch.
I thought a walk to the lake would help me, Sunpaw thought hollowly, not make me feel worse!
He continued to trace the lines of the stick, finding the sensation soothing.
I wish you were here, Badgerpaw, he thought, looking up at the sky as he traced another scar. He wondered which star held his sister.
Sunpaw did not know how long he sat there, stroking the branch. But after some time, he began to feel foolish. He needed to get back to camp, to go to sleep so he could be ready for training in the morning - not sitting out by the lake, rubbing his paws over some stick!
But even as Sunpaw rose to leave, he could not leave the stick lying where it was. It might get washed away. Sunpaw leaned down and gripped the stick between his teeth. He padded up the shoreline and approached the nearest tree. One of the twisted roots of the tree had a gap, and Sunpaw shoved the stick into it. He hoped it would hold fast if the water rose. A spark of anxiety flickered in his chest at the thought of losing the stick to the lake.
Sunpaw stood up and shook out his fur. Time to go back to camp. He left the pebbles of the shoreline for the soft newleaf grass of the forest, and briskly made his way back to camp. When he finally reached the downward slope toward the hollow, he slowed.
Dustpelt was no longer guarding the thorn tunnel; rather, Spiderleg was in his place. The young warrior gave Sunpaw a suspicious look.
"I couldn't sleep," Sunpaw offered. Spiderleg shrugged and stepped aside so Sunpaw could squeeze through.
Sunpaw padded back to the apprentices' den and stepped over Hazelpaw's snoring form to get to his own nest. He circled the moss three times, and was about to sink into it when he heard a small whine.
Featherpaw? Sunpaw looked over at his brother's nest. Featherpaw's paws were twitching, and his ears were flattened. He must be dreaming.
Of Badgerpaw? Sunpaw wondered. For a moment, he was tempted to reach over and wake his brother. But then moments passed, and Sunpaw decided against it.
Instead, he curled up in his nest and shut his eyes, prepared for whatever dreams of Badgerpaw awaited.
NOTES
Good golly, it's been a little while!
I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry.
I got a new job and it's taken over my life. SO. For now, all updates will be on Saturdays. I hope that's okay!
Hope you enjoyed! See you next Saturday!