The Burning- Book One: Blossom [DRAFT]

The Owl and the Quail

That morning, the silver trainee was not woken by the gentle voice of her mentor.

No, today she was woken by a rarity-- the sun and the chattering of the few birds that lived anywhere near the FloraClan camp.

Robinpaw yawned and stretched, a sudden wave of worry shooting through her. Why hasn't Foxtail woken me up?

"Robinpaw! Quailpaw's going to become a full member today!" The excited voice of Thrushpaw caused the silver she-cat to turn and face her friend.

Wow! How exciting! thought Robinpaw giddily, sleepiness for once not clouding her thoughts. "So, are our training sessions not happening today?"

Thrushpaw nodded enthusiastically. "It's one of the only days we can sleep in and play all day!"

"And talk," mewed a new voice.

Robinpaw turned to face the light grey she-cat, curious. For a moment the hunter was unfamiliar, then something clicked as she recognized her as the cat that had taught her how to properly pounce. "Larkfoot! I haven't spoken to you in moons!"

Larkfoot purred. "Not moons, Robinpaw. It hasn't even been two moons yet."

Robinpaw flicked her tail in dismissal. "What does it matter?" She paused, turning and studying the other cats in the den. "Where's Quailpaw?"

"Hunting, I'd imagine," mewed a black-and-white tom gruffly. "Isn't that all you hunters ever do?"

Deerleg purred, twining her tail with his. "Now, now. Be nice, Crowclaw. We're the ones feeding you, after all."

"Fine," he muttered, acting offended, but Robinpaw noted that he didn't retract his tail from hers.

"Are the others hunting as well?" asked Robinpaw, looking curiously for her mentor.

Larkfoot nodded. "With less of us hunting than usual, the others have to hunt more." She must have noticed the look of guilt that covered Robinpaw's features, as she quickly added: "The trainees always have the day off, as they're working harder than the rest of us, and everyone else has a rotating schedule."

Robinpaw nodded. "Then why is Quailpaw hunting?"

"It's her last day," Larkfoot explained. "I suppose she wants too. Besides, I'm sure she wants to spend time with my brother."

"Owltalon?" inquired Thrushpaw curiously. "But isn't he a fighter? Why would he be hunting?"

"I'm sure he's there to 'protect' her," Larkfoot explained. "That's what they do." She rolled her eyes. "And of course he would. Haven't you seen the way they look at each other?"

Robinpaw pricked her ears. This was news to her.

"Oh, come on! Has no one else put together that that's why they're both so sulky? They're not allowed to be mates until they're both full members." Larkfoot sounded almost insulted that she was the only one who'd figured it out.

Deerfoot, on the other hand, looked a little doubtful. "Sure. We'll see."

There was a sudden thundering of pawsteps outside the den, and the rest of the hunters and fighters walked in.

Swallowpaw sat down next to Robinpaw and gave her a weary sigh. "Hi."

Robinpaw nodded in greeting, searching the den for Quailpaw. Her gaze locked with Kestrelwing's, and she broke away awkwardly. Turning to Thrushpaw, she prodded her with her tail. "Where's Quailpaw?"

Thrushpaw flicked her tail helplessly. "I don't know."

"All cats old enough to serve meet under the Great Tree!"