It had been many sunrises since the Fox incident. Flower was now back at camp, in the healer's den.
''You've been very lucky, a fox can take down one full-size cat easily.'' Volefur Exclaimed. The tom was so old that nobody knew when he was born. He was also almost deaf.
''I don't think so! Look at my tail!''Flower sat down, pain flowing from every part of her body. She found it incredibly difficult to walk, and she had the Fox to thank for that.
''What?''
''Nevermind.''
''I don't understand what youngsters these days think is funny,'' Volefur trodded out of the den, presumably going to get some catnip.
Flower stumbled after him. ''Wait! When can I start training again?'' The brown tom kept walking through.
The hollow seemed to be spinning, she limped to the apprentice's den and laid down on her moss nest. At least her wounds had healed.
What about Parsley? Flower knew nothing about the peculiar cat who helped her. Why was he living in a den underground like a hare?
''I'm a rouge trespassing on your territory, what would you do?'' Ice bared his teeth at Flower lunged towards her. The smaller, agile cat flipped around just in time. The two cats sparred until they heard a voice.
''Ice! Don't expose your belly like that, if you were fighting an enemy they wouldn't wait for you to get back on your feet. Poppypetal, his mentor mewed to him. ''Look at Owlstrike and me.''
The more experienced cats moved quicker and knew what they were doing. Owlstrike, with his claws sheathed, jumped from behind Poppypetal. He rolled to his left, just missing her attempt to claw at him.
The tabby nodded and turned to face Flower. ''That's enough for today. let us try and hunt something before we get back to camp.'' Said Poppypetal. Will doing this ever be the same?
As they started to depart to go into the forest, Flower felt anxious. Owlstrike had run for a patrol as soon as he saw the Fox, assuming Flower was with him. She wasn't. Now her mentor had tried to ignore her tail injuries during battle practice. He was just trying to treat her like a normal apprentice, but her mother Fernfeather held a grudge with him ever since.
Ice flicked his tail to Flowers' shoulder. ''The fox is gone now,'' He mewed calmly. Flower realised he had probably forgotten the time about the feather fight.
''Flower, what do you smell?'' Owlstrike looked out into the forest. Flower cast her gaze on a small moving bush. ''A mouse.'' She whispered.
''Go on, get it then.''
The black cat crouched low to the ground, disguising her black pelt with the long grass. She stalked through the grasses, and then leapt onto the mouse, only to slip and fall, scaring the prey.
''You tried.'' Owlstrike was clearly not impressed.
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