A gentle paw prodded the newly-named apprentice.
"Orchidpaw," whispered the paw's owner. "Wake up." Orchidpaw blinked open her eyes and yawned. She looked around the apprentice den. Otterpaw and Leafpaw had very recently vacated their nests, while Rosepaw's scent seemed faint. She probably went on the dawn patrol, Orchidpaw thought. Hazelpaw, the cat who had woken Orchidpaw, was now gently rousing Briarpaw.
Orchidpaw listened to them talk while she groomed her rumpled fur.
"Aren't you going to wake Bluepaw up?" Briarpaw asked.
"No," said Hazelpaw, glancing at the still-snoozing apprentice. "You and your sister have only been apprentices for two sunrises. I figured you'd need a little help sometimes, since you're not used to the routine. Bluepaw, on the other hand, has been apprenticed longer than you. He should be able to get up by himself."
He's so lazy, thought Orchidpaw disdainfully.
When her pelt was groomed to perfection, Orchidpaw stepped into the sunlight of the camp. Her mentor, Stripefur, was sitting nearby, talking to Crowflight. Crowflight was Briarpaw's mentor; no doubt they were discussing the two siblings' training for today. The two warriors stood up when they saw Orchidpaw and Briarpaw exit the den.
"Let's be off," Crowflight said, shaking himself.
"What are we doing today?" asked Briarpaw eagerly. Orchidpaw flicked her tail. She hoped they didn't do battle training. She didn't like fighting and getting all messy from rolling around in the dirt.
"We're hunting for the elders," Stripefur said. "Let's go." She flicked her tail at her apprentice, her striped fur shining in the early leaf-fall sun. Orchidpaw followed more slowly, her paws dragging.
Once they were a little ways into the forest, Stripefur glanced back at Orchidpaw. "You'll need to travel more quietly," she said. "There's not much undergrowth out here to hide in while we're stalking prey. We need to use stealth to sneak up on it." Orchidpaw half-heartedly picked up her paws more as she walked so they would not brush the needles. At Stripefur's words, Briarpaw, who was following with Crowflight, began picking up his paws and setting them down with more care.
After walking for a bit longer, Stripefur halted and held out her tail: a signal to the others to stop. "What do you scent?" she breathed to Orchidpaw.
Orchidpaw sniffed the air. "Some kind of prey," she replied. "A squirrel?"
"Yes!" Stripefur answered with a soft purr. "Very good. Now try to catch it." Stripefur patiently showed Orchidpaw the right way to crouch and stalk the squirrel, who was busy foraging for food some ways away. Crowflight was doing the same with Briarpaw.
"Go ahead," Stripefur said.
"But I... I've never stalked a squirrel for real before," Orchidpaw protested. "I don't know what to do!"
"Crouch just like I showed you," Stripefur encouraged. "Creep up to it, and when you get close, spring and catch it. Don't worry. Your instinct will guide you."
Orchidpaw nervously snuck toward the distracted squirrel. When she thought she was close enough, she sprang. But she had misjudged the distance and landed short. The squirrel scrambled up the nearest pine.
"That's alright," Stripefur said. "It was your first try. I didn't expect you to catch it."
Orchidpaw was just about to reply when she heard Crowflight cry, "Amazing! Great job, Briarpaw!"
Her brother was trotting toward his mentor, something gray and furry in his mouth. His eyes shone, and his chest was puffed out in pride.
"Wow!" Stripefur said, shocked. "You caught something on your first try? That's impressive!"
Orchidpaw knew she should be happy for her brother, but his prideful purr just annoyed her further.
"Bluepaw!" Graystar called. The apprentice finished his mouse and stood up. It was time for the sunhigh border patrol. He strolled over to the camp entrance where the rest of the patrol was waiting. As he passed the nursery, he saw Sandstripe sitting outside with her half-moon-old she-kits, Applekit and Goldenkit. Willowfur, expecting Whitespot's kits again, sat nearby.
There were two other cats in the patrol: Mothflight, a lithe brown she-cat, and Littlestream, a small gray tabby.
"Let's be off," Graystar said, leading the patrol toward the OakClan border.
The patrol began normally enough. They slid through the dark pines, the older cats like liquid shadows. The birds sang, the prey scurried through the pine needles, and the breeze smelled soft and sweet.
They passed the Death Tree (which never had ended up killing Bluepaw). Bluepaw could see that the leafy trees in OakClan territory were changing color. Some leaves burned scarlet, others bright orange, and still others a sunny yellow.
They were about half way between the OakClan border and the Death Tree when Mothflight froze.
"Do you smell that?" she asked. Graystar and Littlestream sniffed the air.
"Cats," Littlestream confirmed.
"OakClan invaders?" Bluepaw asked excitedly. Finally, the moment he had been waiting for! He could show Graystar that his two-and-a-half moons of training were paying off when he ripped those mangy fur balls to shreds!
"No," Mothflight hissed. "Not Clan cats."
"Rouges!" Littlestream cried. Bluepaw followed his gaze. Jewel-bright eyes were appearing in the shadows.
"We can take them," Bluepaw said eagerly. "There's only two." Littlestream hissed and spun around. Another pair of eyes had appeared behind them. And a couple more pairs ... and a couple more....
"You're surrounded."
A black tom stepped out of the darkness in front of the patrol. Bluepaw thought his red eyes looked familiar, but he couldn't quite figure out where he had seen the small cat before.
"Get off of our territory, you mangy, flea-bitten rouge!" Mothflight spat. She was silenced by a look from Graystar.
"You are on the hunting grounds of PineClan," Graystar said calmly. "We ask that you and your companions will leave. There is not enough prey here to share with travelers."
The black tom, seemingly the leader of the band of rogues, flicked his tail, signaling for the other cats to emerge from the shadows. Bluepaw quickly counted seven of them. They were way out numbered. It took all of his concentration to keep his paws from shaking.
"We don't feel like leaving," he said, looking amused. "I think we might stick around for a while."
Mothflight stepped forward. "You fox-hearted piece of crowfood! Take your goons and leave! Now!"
"Darling," the leader purred silkily, "how do you plan to make us?"
With a screech of fury, Mothflight sprang, claws extended.
"Mothflight, no!" Graystar yowled. It was too late. The black rogue leader met her head on, and the other rogues pounced.
Bluepaw found himself face to face with two cats, both much bigger than him. One, a ginger tabby, swiped at Bluepaw with his wickedly sharp claws. Bluepaw dodged and instinctively counterattacked, scoring his claws across the tabby's face. The other cat lunged forward and bit down on Bluepaw's extended foreleg. Bluepaw cried out in pain but managed to pull free. He darted around the second cat, a dark brown tom, and leaped onto his back. He dug his claws in and began to shred the brown cat's ears with his teeth. Hissing, the tom bucked and threw Bluepaw off.
Bluepaw got unsteadily to his paws. The tabby had blood running into his eyes, so Bluepaw darted forward and slashed with his claws, damaging the tabby's face even more. The apprentice felt a rush of pride when the tabby retreated into the shadows, yowling with pain.
But the other cat was leaping toward him now. Bluepaw bolted to the side. The brown cat passed by him so closely that Bluepaw could feel the rush of air on his pelt.
As the brown rogue turned to face Bluepaw, the apprentice darted underneath the bigger cat's belly, trying to claw at the tender underbelly.
It was his fatal mistake.
The brown cat simply flopped down on top of Bluepaw, pinning him to the ground. Bluepaw's mouth was forced into the cool dirt. He inhaled a pine needle and almost choked. This is the end, he thought as he tried to regain his breath.
But then the weight was gone. Bluepaw looked up to see Graystar standing over him. The Clan leader had dragged the rogue off of his apprentice and sent him running into the woods with a few well-placed blows.
"Thanks," Bluepaw panted. He looked around. Graystar had managed to throw off his opponents, but there were three rouges left. The black leader was still locked in combat with Mothflight, while the other two were fighting with Littlestream. The ginger tabby that Bluepaw had driven away was back again, along with another rogue.
"More cats are on the way!" the ginger tom yowled to his leader.
Graystar looked sternly at Bluepaw. "Bluepaw, you must go back and get reinforcements. We are hopelessly outnumbered."
"But I need to stay and help!" Bluepaw protested. "You need as many paws as you can get!"
"That's exactly why you need to get help from camp! Bluepaw, there's no time for arguing!" Graystar said sternly. "Go!"
Bluepaw opened his mouth, but Graystar shot him a look that told Bluepaw that the leader was not going to change his mind.
Bluepaw sprinted through the woods, running faster than he ever had before. His paws barely seemed to touch the pine needles before they were back in the air, reaching for more earth to propel him along.
When he was almost to camp, he spotted a hunting patrol. His father's familiar gray pelt was among them.
"Windystep!" he cried.
All the cats looked up. Bluepaw could see their alarm at the panic in his voice.
"What's wrong, Bluepaw?" asked Windystep.
"Where's Graystar?" asked Cedarheart, Graystar's son from another litter.
"The patrol..." Bluepaw panted. "Ambush ... way outnumbered... you have to help!"
"Let's go!" Windystep said without hesitation. "Bluepaw, lead the way!"
Bluepaw was bone-tired, but he knew he could not give up now. Graystar, Mothflight, and Littlestream needed him. Their very lives could depend on how quickly Bluepaw could get backup. No cat said a word on the way there; not even talkative Leafpaw, who was on the patrol with her mentor Marshpelt.
As they drew closer to the battle site, Bluepaw strained his ears for the sounds of the fight. The forest was deathly quiet. Bluepaw didn't know what to think. Had the Clan cats driven off their attackers? Or had something more dreadful occurred?
The clearing where the cats had been battling was still. Bluepaw froze, eyes wide with horror.
"No..." Cedarheart breathed.
Bluepaw had failed.
The whole patrol was dead.