(Outdated) Warriors: Clouded Skies #1 - The First Storm

Chapter Eighteen

Rowanpaw was disappointed when he woke and found himself alone in the low bush he and Emberheart had made a nest in. He felt cold without the touch of her warm stomach, and he shifted uncomfortably and peeked outside through the leaves. He could see the young kits Fern, Meadow, and Primrose by the pool of water, mewling playfully as they tussled while the silver tabby she-cat watched them with happy blue eyes.

Rowanpaw felt anger grow inside of him. He had never been able to do that—play with Blazepaw with no worry, no cat telling him how to wound an enemy or what move to kill a piece of prey with. The silver tabby was watching them silently, chuckling in amusement when one of the kits rolled away or when they tackled their littermate. They were hungry and weak, but yet they were still playing and being kits; no care in the world.

The apprentice swallowed his anger and crawled out from under the bush, shaking out his fur. Pain ran through his stomach, his muscles twisting in hunger. He licked his lips, feeling the dryness of his throat. He looked around for his Clanmates, but none of them were there. The only cats were the silver tabby with the kits and a broad black tom with yellow eyes.

Grinding his teeth together, Rowanpaw forced himself over to the tom. "Do you know where my Clanmates are?" he asked.

The tom looked over at him. "Rowanpaw, right?" He ignored the apprentice's question. "I'm Hickory."

"Great to know," he grumbled sourly. "Where are they?" His tail lashed.

Hickory's ear twitched, showing he was upset, but he hid it well. "Emberheart went out with Hazelfur, and Birchsplash went hunting with Rohan and Aspenheart." His eyes went dark with interest. "You're Ratpaw, aren't you?"

Rowanpaw's spine fur lifted. "I don't know what you're talking about." Despite him trying to stop it, his lips curled back.

Hickory blinked, seemingly unfazed. "After you went to nest with Emberheart, I got talking to Hazelfur. I asked why you had been so upset, and she said it was personal. How you've reacted to Aspenheart whenever you see her, and how you left right when she said Rohan was the father of her first litter—the father of you." He gave a small nod. "I'm smarter than you may think."

Rowanpaw stared him down, eyes harder than ice. "If you dare tell anyone—" The black tom cut him off.

"I get it, kit. You don't want Aspenheart or Rohan to know." He brought up a paw, licked his pad, then ran it over his face. "Go find somebody who actually wants to talk to you." He stood up and stalked away, lashing his tail in Rowanpaw's face. The young tom took a quick step back, snorting in anger.

But he once again swallowed his pride and anger and padded over to the water, taking a big gap between himself and the kits, and began to drink. The fresh washed down his throat and send happiness through him. The feeling of the cold, clean water made it feel amazing. He flinched heavily when a bundle of fur rammed into his side. He whipped his head over, water dripping from his dirty muzzle, and stared into the glowing amber gaze of the solid brown she-kit Primrose.

"Sorry!" she mewled, her tail lashing playfully. "Do you wanna play with us?" she asked, jumping into a playful crouch and wiggling her haunches around.

Rowanpaw swallowed his breath, watching the small she-kit with guarded eyes. The carefree look in her eyes made his heart ache with pain. Why had he never been able to feel that? The only time he had tried to be free and have fun, he had gotten his best friend killed and almost lost his brother. His chest tightened when sadness washed through her eyes and she stood up straight.

"Is everything okay?" she mewled softly, tilting her head. "You can be the fox if you want!" Her tail flicked excitedly.

"Primrose, he might not want to play," the silver tabby said softly.