Warriors: The Trail of Centuries

Chapter 21

     Spottedpaw sat wordlessly on the moorland, several small voles gathered at her paws as she waited for the hunting patrol to regroup. A chilly breeze swayed the surrounding grass, tickling the tufts of fur in her ears. I can't believe this was all I could find, she cursed herself silently. Glancing to her right, she noticed that Longstep, a long-legged pale tabby, had caught two rabbits and a wren. Spottedpaw tried not to let her disappointment show, though it was clear that the warrior next to her noticed it.

     The warrior shifted awkwardly where he sat, glancing around the moorland. "So," he started, "what was your life like in the Gorge?"

     "It was . . . different from what I've experienced in BlazeClan, and here in SwiftClan," Spottedpaw responded after a moment of hesitation. "Families here are . . . well, families. In the Gorge, we call our parents by their names, and parents don't interact with their children very much." Longstep cast his gaze to her and hesitated before speaking again.

     "Does that apply to the queens, too?"

     "Well, my mother was nice enough at first," the apprentice responded thoughtfully. "Ever since my apprenticeship, though, she stopped talking to all of us. She never really gave us a second glance after that. One of the other queens cared much more deeply for her kits, but she often got in trouble for it. I think it might have been because nobody knew the father of her kits—her closeness to them, I mean. And the other queen—"

     "They didn't know the father? W-What did this queen look like?" Longstep queried a bit too eagerly. Spottedpaw shot him a look, unable to stop the laughter that erupted from her chest.

     "What, are you chasing after mateless queens, Longstep?" she teased between snickers. "Come on, you have potential, I'm sure."

     "N-No! It's not like that at all!" the pale warrior retorted quickly, visibly flustered by the comment. He looked away quickly, his ears flattened to his head in embarrassment. "I was just curious!" Spottedpaw struggled to cease her giggles, too busy laughing to wonder why the tall warrior would be interested in a queen from the Gorge.

     Just then, Mirepelt, Hazelberry, and Mousepaw appeared from a thicket of gorse. Each of them carried a few pieces of prey in their jaws, looking satisfied with their catches. Without uttering a word, Mirepelt began to lead them back to camp, the light brown markings on his legs muddied from his hunting. He must have gone hunting in the marshes! Spottedpaw realized, looking closer to what he'd caught. When she did, she realized a frog hung in between a mouse and a vole. She scrunched her nose in distaste and followed after him, along with the rest of the patrol. Spottedpaw felt like she stuck out like a broken tree branch, though the feeling wasn't as noticeable as when she was in the BlazeClan—or the Gorge, for that matter.

     "Look!" Mousepaw mewed suddenly. Spottedpaw and the warriors stopped and looked where he was pointing with his nose. Off in the distance, Fernwillow was haring over the hills; the grey warrior was headed straight toward the hunting patrol.

     "She must be running laps," Hazelberry snorted in amusement. "That one always had an excessive amount of energy." The group let out a collective chuckle and began padding in the direction of their camp again. Spottedpaw paused when she thought she heard Fernwillow yowling. She stopped and perked her ears toward the young warrior, having a hard time hearing her over the increasing wind.

     "Spottedpaw, come on," Mirepelt ordered without even glancing over his shoulder. "We don't want the prey going stale before we even return, do we?"

     "I think Fernwillow is trying to say something to us," Spottedpaw murmured, watching as the she-cat grew closer.

     "What?" Mirepelt stopped and turned around. The rest of the patrol followed his lead, confused expressions resting on their faces.