Chapter Seven
I don't own warriors
"Aaa-TCHOOO!" Silverpaw recoiled disgustedly.
"Cinderheart, you should really see Jayfeather!" Something flashed in Cinderheart's eyes and she sighed heavily.
"Fine. Come on." She gestured with her tail to leave the frigid clearing. Silverpaw fluffed out her fur, her paws aching with the cold. Leaf-bare was just about settling in, and the camp had been covered in a thin layer of frost that had since melted earlier in the day.
"I hate leaf-bare." She fretted, pausing to lap at her paws in an attempt to warm her frozen pads. "If it gets any colder, my feet will drop off." Cinderheart let out another sneeze, and when she purred, it sounded like it shook her whole body.
"Mmm…" she said absentmindedly, not showing any sign that she was uncomfortable. In fact, if one were to look at her, only her eyes, glazed with fever, gave away she was sick - or even a bit cold - at all. They reached the camp and Cinderheart paused and turned to Silverpaw, letting out another bout of coughing.
"If I'm still not better tomorrow, tell Foxleap to take you out hunting." She said between her coughs. Then she padded slowly to the medicine den. Silverpaw sighed. She could go hunting without the bossy furball that was Foxleap, but there was nothing she could do. He had been much more fun as an apprentice, playing with her when her littermates had gotten a small cough, when she was a young kit. However, after fighting off a whole WindClan patrol on his own, he had received his warrior name and had become as arrogant and annoying as Berrynose, if not more, seeing as he was still a very young warrior. Padding to her den so she could go and warm up in her comfortable nest, it was just her luck that she would run into the stuck-up warrior. He gave her a smug look that made her want to claw his face off.
"I've just spoken to Cinderheart. I'm your temporary mentor until she recovers from whitecough." He said. Silverpaw narrowed her eyes in what she hoped would intimidate the warrior. She was quite small unfortunately, and he laughed instead, flicking his tail patronizingly over her ears.
"Aww, you are so cute Silverpaw." He said. Silverpaw unsheathed her claws.
"So what if you're my mentor? All you're doing is taking me hunting tomorrow." She said. He nodded.
"But I think that you should go hunting today as well, the clan needs all the fresh kill it can get." Foxleap said. Silverpaw lashed her tail mutinously. The stupid warrior could always set her off.
"I went hunting this morning." She said, through gritted teeth.
"And what did you catch?" He asked.
"A squirrel and a rabbit." She replied. She had been very proud of herself, but Foxleap laughed mockingly.
"I think we should go out again then." He said. She groaned.
"Why should I?" She asked. He stared at her.
"Because I'm your mentor until Cinderheart gets better." He said. She stared at him for a moment, each battling it out, before sighing and padding behind him, head hanging. Stupid furball.
"You go that way, I'll go this way." He said, flicking with his tail towards the abandoned twoleg path.
"But there's never any prey there! Can't I go that way instead?" She asked, gesturing in the direction of the stream that ran through ThunderClan's territory.
"No. To the abandoned twoleg path." He said firmly. She unsheathed her claws, but headed in that direction without a word.
Scenting the air carefully, the delicious scent of a vole wafted into her scent glands, making her mouth water. She hadn't had vole in so long. But the clan must be fed first. Sighing, she pricked her ears and stalked carefully forward until she could hear it, rustling beneath a cover of dead leaves. She took a cautious step forward, her muscles bunching in case she had to leap to catch it. Suddenly, a twig snapped behind her and she leapt up, her eyes terrified. She settled down and pricked her ears, but the vole was gone.
"Mouse-dung!" She spat, turning around to yell at whoever had cost her her prey. But she cried out in fright as she realised it wasn't a cat – at least, it wasn't a living cat – but two ghostly figures, insubstantial and see-through; she could see the drying bracken fronds behind them. They were only visible enough, that she could see they were a thin cloud of dark tabby fur, like the cats from her dream. One had icy blue eyes and the other amber eyes, both filled with a cold, calculating ambition. They knew what they wanted.
"Hello Silverpaw." It was a deep, intimidating male voice, and the one with amber eyes stepped- or rather, floated- forward.
"You may recognise me. I do, after all, bear a strong resemblance to your father." He said.
"Brambleclaw?" She stuttered, her paws frozen to the ground in fear.
"Yes, my traitorous son." The dark tabby cloud said. Silverpaw shook her head.
"My father's not a traitor!" She said. The dark tabby cloud's amber eyes narrowed.
"Very well. But would you like to join his father and half-brother?" The tabby cloud asked. Silverpaw shook her head.
"Never. You're the traitor." And without a second thought, she regained movement in her paws, racing away as fast as she could, not daring to look back, until she ran into Foxleap.
"You look like you saw a StarClan cat." He exclaimed. She shook her head.
"Not a StarClan cat, no. Something much, much worse."