There was an uncomfortable, tense silence between Wildpaw and Russetpaw as the two she-cats sprinted through the reddish-brown grassland, heading towards the ThunderClan border. The chilly leaf-bare wind send a visible shudder through Wildpaw's pelt, but Russetpaw's thick fur prevented it from bothering her. Even though Wildpaw shot Russetpaw nasty glances the entire journey, Russetpaw ignored her, losing herself in her thoughts.
The other day, Scorchpaw had dragged Swiftstar back into camp, and reported that he had lost a life thanks to an attack by a fox. Scorchpaw had looked so guilt-ridden and hadn't wanted to speak to any cat, and Russetpaw couldn't find it in her heart to see him suffering so much. Something else must have happened that day. Scorchpaw had seen his own father die in front of him – it was something Russetpaw had been fearing for a while. I hope he's okay, Russetpaw thought to herself, her stomach twinging. And I hope Father is okay, too.
"Are you walking or running?" Wildpaw's voice knocked Russetpaw from her thoughts, and the dark ginger she-cat looked up to see that Wildpaw had stopped to address her. Oh. Russetpaw must've slowed down as she was thinking. "I swear I've never seen a cat slower than you."
The fur on the back of Russetpaw's fur bristled as she swung her head to glare furiously at Wildpaw. "You want to see slow?" she argued. "Fine. We'll see who the slow one really is!" Taking off, Russetpaw ran faster than the warriors of StarClan as her paws flew over the browning moorland, heading swiftly towards the ThunderClan border. She could feel Wildpaw running behind her, but anger was making Russetpaw's muscles pulsate, and she found herself outrunning Wildpaw at every moment.
"Why do you think you're so much better than me?" Russetpaw snapped, not even bothering to turn around to address the tortoiseshell she-cat.
"It's a competition!" Wildpaw spat. "One of us has to be better than the other, because only one of us is going to be a warrior!"
"Yeah, and it's going to be me!" Russetpaw hissed at her, feeling the wind in her fur as she put on more and more speed, her claws tearing up bunches of grass. The world spun around her, and her eyes were focused on the stream that marked the ThunderClan border.
"You weren't even an apprentice on time," Wildpaw snarled, her voice full of venom. "What makes you think you're going to be a warrior along with the rest of us?"
Russetpaw skidded to a halt and turned on Wildpaw, her tail bushing and the fur on her spine arching. "You're so stuck-up and conceited!" she spat at the dark tortoiseshell she-cat. "All you think about is winning. All I want to do is be a good warrior – and impress my father!" At the last three words, Wildpaw's yellow eyes widened, and Russetpaw slapped her tail across her mouth.
"So, that's what it is." Wildpaw narrowed her eyes into slits. "It's not about being a good warrior, is it? It's about making your dad proud. Well, guess what, Russetpaw? Showing off by throwing yourself into battle or escaping camp isn't going to work! Only one of us is going to be a warrior, and it's going to be me!"
"You wish," Russetpaw hissed. "I don't want anything to do with you! Don't come near me!"
"Works for me," Wildpaw snarled. "I don't know how Scorchpaw puts up with a sister like you!" And, with those words hanging in the air, the dappled she-cat turned on her heel and disappeared into the moorland, heading towards the setting sun. Russetpaw watched her go, her lip curled, before bounding away, closer to the ThunderClan border.
Russetpaw sniffed the fresh scents on the stream, the anger from her previous exchange with Wildpaw making her blood boil and her claws unsheathe. The fury, the frustration, it had nowhere to go. Her claws ached for a fight, someone she could scale her claws down and pretend it was Wildpaw. Attacking a Clanmate was something she wouldn't do. But attacking an enemy and pretending it was a Clanmate? That was something she'd be just fine doing.
There was a rustle from a fern bush a couple of fox-lengths away, and Russetpaw snapped her head towards its direction. The scent of ThunderClan was fresh in the air – too fresh, and on the wrong side of the border. A ThunderClan cat is trespassing! With her teeth bared and her battle skills ready, Russetpaw stalked towards the fern bush, every muscle on alert.
She was ready. She wasn't going to let this trespasser off without a few scratches to warn them just how powerful WindClan was. The leaf-bare wind drew the scent closer to her, and there was no mistaking that it was ThunderClan, from the traces of oak and birch and the thick tinge of mouse and squirrel. Russetpaw neared closer, and saw a flash of silver fur, sticking out against the moorland. Russetpaw bunched her muscles and pounced on the fern bush, landing on top of a hefty body and rolling with it.
"Hey!" spat the cat she had landed on. Russetpaw wrestled with him and pinned him down until she came face-to-face with the broad face of a silver tabby tom with a white chest and muzzle. The tom looked up at her, his brilliant blue eyes blazing. "Get off me!"
"No!" Russetpaw barked at him, sinking her claws into the tom's skin. "You're trespassing on WindClan territory! Get out before I rip you into shreds!"
"Okay, okay!" the tom exclaimed. 'Could you get off me, please, so I can leave?"
A low growl rose in Russetpaw's throat, and she reluctantly stepped off the silver tabby tom, but the lust for a fight never left her body. The tom got to his paws and shook his fur out, eyeing Russetpaw for several heartbeats. Russetpaw curled her teeth, ready to chase him out if he didn't move in the next heartbeat.
"I heard that fight, you know," the silver tabby tom said after a few moments of silence. "Between you and that other WindClan cat."
Embarrassment flooded through Russetpaw and turned the tips of her ears red. What? He heard everything? "How?" Russetpaw challenged. "I was nowhere near you!"
"Uh, yeah, you were." The tom flicked his tail towards the moorland. "You were yelling so loud that RiverClan probably heard it."
Russetpaw lashed her tail. "So? What does it have to do with you? Who are you?" The tom's prodding was getting on the last of her nerves. First Wildpaw, and now him. Who did he think he was?
"I'm Winterfall of ThunderClan," the silver tabby tom introduced himself. "I'm guessing you're Swiftstar's daughter? What was your name… Russetpaw, I think they said?" His blue gaze scanned her up and down.
"And if I am?" Russetpaw asked. Why does he want to know?
There was something that flashed in Winterfall's brilliant blue eyes, an emotion Russetpaw couldn't quite grasp. She sat down, covering her paws with her tail. Even though she had threatened him – multiple times – he still didn't seem to treat her as an enemy. So what was he doing? Why was he trespassing, and why didn't he seem remotely worried that she was ready to shred him into pieces?
"Is it hard?" Winterfall inquired. "Being the daughter of the Viper of WindClan?"
Russetpaw narrowed her eyes. She had heard of Winterfall's name before, from Hollyfrost and Wasppaw when they returned from Gatherings. That meant he was a young warrior but notable in the Clans. "Aren't you the son of Flintstar?" she retorted.
"Well, yeah." Winterfall shifted his big silver paws. "But… um… Flintstar doesn't really have the nickname that Swiftstar does."
"Okay, yeah, so my father is a little tough," Russetpaw meowed. And strict… and mean… and sometimes ruthless… but he's still my dad, isn't he? She had finally figured out that her relationship with her father was… complicated. She clearly wasn't as adored by him as Scorchpaw was, and he didn't trust her as much as he trusted Adderpaw. He gave her passing glances, and sometimes praised her, but the memories of him refusing to make her an apprentice and the competition he had created with Wildpaw made the tip of her claws ache as she stretched them out. But then there were the moments… like when he had praised her for saving Hollyfrost in the ambush by RiverClan. How do I feel about my father?
"Hello?" Winterfall's voice knocked Russetpaw out of her thoughts. "Earth to Russetpaw!"
"I mean… yeah, at times, it's pretty tough. He expects a lot of me, but he doesn't tell me how to give it to him." Russetpaw was surprised that she found herself confiding in an enemy warrior, but it wasn't as if she could confess to any of her other Clanmates. Adderpaw, her half-brother, probably wouldn't care at all, Scorchpaw would be surprised, she definitely couldn't confide in Bramblepaw, Wasppaw, or Wildpaw, and she didn't know exactly how Gorsepaw would react, considering he was Scorchpaw's closest friend.
"Yeah. I definitely understand." Winterfall gave a slow nod. "Flintstar isn't as tough as the cats say Swiftstar is, but being the Clan leader's son, all of my Clanmates think I should suddenly become the best warrior in the Clan, just because Flintstar is a good leader. I don't know how he thinks, though. He's supportive to me, but most of the time, I can't read him. He's never worn his expression on his paws, and sometimes it seems like he favors my brother, Frostfang."
Oh, wow. Don't even get me started on that. "That's exactly how I feel!" Russetpaw found herself exclaiming. "My father definitely prefers my brothers, Scorchpaw and Adderpaw, over me. To him I'm just…" She trailed her voice off, not knowing how to finish her sentence. "I'm just collateral damage."
Sympathy fell on Winterfall's face, shadowing his eyes. "I'm sorry," he meowed. His gaze flitted over to the stream, and then back to her. "Seriously. Don't you wish you could do something about it?"
"There's nothing I can do," Russetpaw said, flicking the ground with her paws, "other than work as hard as I can to please him. So…"
"He must be a hard cat, then." Winterfall's tail twitched from side to side.
"Tell me about it." Russetpaw rolled her eyes, then studied Winterfall with an intense green gaze. He actually listened to me. Even though I was rambling, he sat and he listened to me. And we're not so different… he's the son of a Clan leader, and I'm the daughter of a Clan leader. Even if my Clan leader is known as the Viper of WindClan, and his leader is known to be an honorable one. "You know… you're not so bad."
"Is that a compliment?" Winterfall asked, his whiskers twitching in faint amusement.
"That's for you to decide," Russetpaw told him. No way I'm complimenting an enemy cat! "You know… I never asked… but what are you doing on my territory?"
"I was just roaming," Winterfall replied, shadows in his blue eyes. "Guess I got lost around the way. I'll be heading back, now."
"Yeah, because if you don't, I'll shred you into pieces," Russetpaw warned him. "So go!" She hoped her voice was venomous enough to budge him away, but she realized that the same poison wasn't there like when she threatened him earlier before he had spoken to her. But, no matter their similarities, he was an enemy warrior trespassing.
"All right, all right," Winterfall meowed, amusement still falling over his face. "I'm sure I'll see you again, Russetpaw, whether it's at the next Gathering, a patrol, or if I see you trespassing on my territory." A purr rumbled in his throat. "It's happened once, hasn't it? Consider the odds even." And, with those words hanging in the air, the silver tabby bounded over to the stream, leaped on each stepping stone, and disappeared into the green foliage. Russetpaw watched him go, her green eyes narrowed.
Her dispute with Wildpaw was all but forgotten. She had finally confided in another cat, and it felt good. Sorrow made Russetpaw's head droop as she realized that she probably wouldn't have another chance to. Maybe at the Gathering, but she wouldn't be at every one, and neither would he. Even though the cats were from two different Clans, they had formed a bond from the same circumstances, ones that led them to feel like an outcast in their Clans. I hope I get to talk to him again.
The ginger she-cat tore through the moorland, focusing on the deep sun ahead of her as she enjoyed the stretching of her legs, without Wildpaw to mock her, Swiftstar to assess her, or any other cat judging her. She immediately stopped when she noticed a patch of gray-and-white fur, crouching in a bunch of grass in front of her. Russetpaw recognized the mottles immediately.
"Gorsepaw?" Russetpaw called out. Gorsepaw tossed his head over his shoulder, meeting Russetpaw's gaze and nodding slowly. "What are you doing here?"
"Practicing my stalking," Gorsepaw replied, getting to his paws. "How about you, Russetpaw? Wildpaw came back to camp without you."
"Oh, did she." Russetpaw's claws worked into the ground.
"Another fight?" Gorsepaw's voice was sympathetic.
"I guess." Russetpaw shifted her paws, hating that the other apprentices were being forced to choose between the two she-cats. At least she could always rely on Gorsepaw, who blinked kindly at her. He shook out his mottled fur and lowered his head.
"You're going to be a warrior one day," Gorsepaw meowed, "and, when you are, the silly squabbles won't matter. Your priority is going to be the same one as mine – serving your Clan. And, no matter what, just like Blackpaw, I'll always be your friend." The apprentice ruffled Russetpaw's head with his long gray-and-white tail. "I want you to know that." And, with that, the WindClan apprentice disappeared into the moorland. Russetpaw watched him go. Gorsepaw was a great friend, she would never deny it, and she was glad she had him. But he didn't seem to understand how hard being the Clan leader's daughter was.