Warriors: The Trail of Centuries

Chapter 8

     Spottedpaw sat a few fox-lengths away from the Smoothstone. The main cavern was unusually full of cats—most were paying respects to Jaggedthorn. Deadeye sat near the brown tabby’s bloodied body, his expression as unreadable as ever. He had offered little to console the cats of the Gorge aside from promises of vengeance, though few cats needed consolation. Frostheart and Snowface sat beside one another, their eyes flashing with rage as they whispered amongst themselves. Greyheart appeared to be much more collected; a glance at his flicking tail, however, revealed just how infuriated he felt. Thornheart hadn’t moved from where she’d bowed her head near her mentor’s body.

     While cats milled about and took turns bowing next to the body, Spottedpaw could only watch blankly. There was nothing to get revenge for—Heatherstorm had only been defending herself, and Frostheart murdered her in cold blood while weaving a story that suggested otherwise. Spottedpaw wanted to feel something, anything. A bit of anger at the grey warrior would be sufficient, but all she could feel was a haunting emptiness. Even if she exposed him, what would happen to him? Would Deadeye praise him for being so cunning, so deceptive? The more she thought about it, the more she felt as though she wasn’t with her campmates, despite physically being there.

     By the time she focused back on her surroundings, the rest of the Gorge had gone to their nests and left Spottedpaw feeling wide awake. For a moment she considered going to her nest and trying to sleep, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to. As she contemplated what to do, she remembered Jayleaf’s invitation to her. It’s got to be about moonrise now, she mused to herself. Besides, a brief walk would help me ease my mind. She rose to her paws and resisted the urge to wince at her aching muscles and stiff joints. With a last glance around, she began padding towards the tunnel leading into the forest.

     “Going somewhere?” Hawkscar padded out of the shadows and gave his apprentice a curious look. “It’s late, you know.”

     “Yeah, I know,” Spottedpaw mumbled and dipped her head in embarrassment. “My mind just won’t calm down after today. I was thinking a walk might help me settle down for bed.” She refused to meet her mentor’s eye, knowing that he would see right through her.

     Hawkscar stared at her for a few moments and finally responded with, “Alright, but don’t go too far. Be careful of any late-night patrols, too.” Spottedpaw gave her mentor a relieved nod and padded out of the tunnel. The cool, night time breeze initially startled her. After a pause on the cliff’s edge, the breeze eased her nerves. She padded through the moonlit forest and sighed as the rustling of the leaves above her lulled her bustling mind.

     Spottedpaw traveled onward, enjoying the beauty around her as it passed. Up until now, she'd never had the time to stop and enjoy the world around her. Ferns laced back and forth among the undergrowth. She looked up as she padded along, noticing how each one of the trees nearly touched the moon above.

     When she saw trampled leaves and bloodied flowers, she realized that she had arrived where the fight had taken place. She looked around as she padded closer to the border markers, grimacing when she saw clumps of fur lying on the forest floor. 

     Once she reached the border, she stopped and looked up at the sky. The moon wasn’t quite touching the treetops yet, but it was well past moonrise. Maybe he got caught up, she thought to herself. He said that before . . . oh, poor Heatherstorm. She felt a tug at her chest as she stared sadly off into BlazeClan’s territory—just like the one she felt at the Gathering. She shook it off when she spotted the bramble thicket that Jayleaf had helped her hide in—it was right on the borderline. With a last glance around her, she started to crawl underneath the thicket.