The Roaring Winds

Chapter Thirteen: Bloody Paws

Chapter Thirteen: Bloody Paws

Mossypaw's paws ached. The day seemed to stretch on for ages, and now, there were bright orange and yellow streaks in the sky. Soon enough, the colors would turn into darker shades of ember and blood to show the turn of sunset. And, after that, the sun would die and the world would become wrapped in dark shadows with a midnight-blue atmosphere that would eventually change into a pure black state. The sun's movements almost felt slower than normal as the shadows it flashed on the land hardly shifted as time moved forward.

Mossypaw placed down her supplies. She had carried a long bramble stem from the outside of camp. It was meant to line the outside of the nursery. RiverClan couldn't do too much with thorns, in fear that they would create too much weight on the island, which would then cause it to flood. Yet, the Clan was still determined to secure the camp as much as they possibly could.

The long bramble tendril snaked halfway around the nursery. Mossypaw walked around it, to check that it was secure. Occasionally, she'd have to push her paws against the thorns so that it would press against the den. Mossypaw's actions did come with the consequence of bloody paws, but it was worth it.

All the kits deserve as much security as possible. Especially, since they're so small and defenseless... A forlorn expression crossed her face, and her eyes grew glassy. She blinked her eyes a couple of times and felt her tail droop behind her. She padded away from the brambles and headed toward the center of the clearing.

Pinepelt stood there, his pelt bedraggled slightly, in his common state of agitation. The tom barked out gruff orders to the cats around him, his tone still aggressive. His own paws still had a couple of thorns stuck between his claws. His eyes didn't contain much spark, and, were instead solemn.

Mossypaw bit the side of her tongue. She felt a worm of worry wriggle itself in her insides. The dark brown apprentice ignored it and stepped toward Pinepelt. She looked over at her mentor and waited for the tom to catch her gaze.

Pinepelt hadn't made eye-contact with her. Yet, he still sighed heavily to himself and flattened his ears mildly. "There's still so much that needs to be done before this war," he muttered to himself gravely.

"Is there... Is there anything I could do to help out?" Mossypaw asked quietly. She felt a flash of sympathy for the head senior warrior. The tom did have a lot of weight on his shoulders, more than she could ever imagine.

If Pinepelt had heard her, he made no indication of it. "Leafbare's going to be worse, and it should've been here by now. The longer we wait for snow, the worse the cold season will be."

Mossypaw twitched an ear. She had never experienced snow, despite being born in mid-leafbare. The season ended rather quickly, which led to rejoice within the Clans. But, now that she thought about that, perhaps that wasn't necessarily a good thing...

"And, there'll be more kits along the way now that–"Pinepelt cut himself off and glanced over to see Mossypaw next to him. His eyes were stone, and they didn't contain any specific expression. "What is it, Mossypaw?"

"I-I just wanted to see if I could help out in any way," Mossypaw didn't expect herself to stutter, and, she was honestly confused by it.

"Honestly, I think I might be too hard on you, Mossypaw. I haven't been very fair to you for the past two moons. I feel like I constantly snap at you all the time, and that's not the proper way a mentor should behave. I saw that you have helped out around camp, and the commitment is all RiverClan really needs right now," Pinepelt answered honestly, and he looked his apprentice in the eye. There was a strange sense of melancholy in his demeanor.