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Fireheart tracked the two apprentices through the Tallpines. The springy layer of pine needles underpaw felt strangely soft after the frozen ground in the rest of the forest. He followed Cinderpaw’s trail until he could see her stalking eagerly through the forest. Then he picked up Brackenpaw’s scent and followed that. The trails crossed here and there. Fireheart could smell where the apprentices had run fast, where they had sat down, even where they had lingered together at one point.

Before long Fireheart found a spot where Cinderpaw had made a kill. She had taken it with her-as he followed her trail, he could smell the scent of her catch mingling with her own. Then he discovered where Brackenpaw had caught a thrush. The feathers were scattered everywhere. The apprentices were hunting well. Fireheart knew this for sure when he detected a scent thick with fresh-kill. He dug down among the needles at the roots of a pine. There was a stash of prey hidden underneath it, left by Cinderpaw to pick up later. Fireheart felt a small glow of pride at her work. She had caught plenty, and now she was heading for the oak woods behind the Twolegplace.

Fireheart followed. Just beyond the edge of the pine forest, he picked up Brackenpaw’s scent. It was strong, which meant the apprentice was nearby. Fireheart crept forward and peered around a young oak. The apprentice was crouching beneath a tangle of brambles, well disguised among its shadows. Fireheart could just see his tail moving as it twitched from side to side.

Brackenpaw had his eyes fixed on a wood mouse that was scrambling around the roots of a tree. Brackenpaw was taking his time. Good, thought Fireheart. He watched Brackenpaw draw himself forward, one step at a time. The leaves beneath his paws hardly made a sound. He was as quiet as the mouse itself, which continued to hunt for food, suspecting nothing. Fireheart watched breathlessly, remembering his first hunting mission.

Brackenpaw closed in. The soft rustle of his paws on leaves melted into the background sounds of the forest. Fireheart found himself willing the apprentice on. Brackenpaw was only a rabbit length away from the mouse now, his body pressed flat against the forest floor. The mouse scampered onto a root and looked around. It froze. Something was wrong.

Now! thought Fireheart. Brackenpaw sprang and landed on the mouse, grasping it in his front paws. The mouse didn’t have time to struggle. It was over in a single bite.

Brackenpaw raised his head. Fireheart saw the satisfied expression on the young cat’s face as he breathed the scent of his fresh-kill. Then Brackenpaw darted away between the trees. Fireheart realized he was looking forward to reporting back to Tigerclaw about his apprentices.

“Hi!” The small voice behind him made Fireheart jump into the air. He spun around.

“How are we doing?” asked Cinderpaw, looking up at him with her head to one side.

“You’re not meant to ask that!” Fireheart spat, and licked his ruffled fur. “You’re not supposed to speak to me at all. I’m assessing you, remember?”

“Oh!” mewed Cinderpaw. “Sorry.”

Fireheart sighed. He would never have dared to approach Tigerclaw during his own assessment. He didn’t want to scare Cinderpaw into obedience, as Tigerclaw had done with Ravenpaw, but he wouldn’t mind a little respect every now and then. Sometimes he didn’t feel like Cinderpaw’s mentor at all.

Cinderpaw looked at the ground for a moment, then glanced up at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Were you really born over there, in Twolegplace?”

The question caught Fireheart off guard. He glanced nervously in the direction of the Twoleg fence, praying that the strange scents of Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw would keep Princess inside her own garden today. “Why d’you ask?” he mewed, stalling.

“Tigerclaw mentioned it, that’s all,” answered Cinderpaw. She seemed genuinely curious, but Fireheart felt a dark quiver of menace at the mention of Tigerclaw’s name. What else had Tigerclaw been telling Cinderpaw about him?

“I was born a kittypet,” Fireheart meowed firmly. “But I’m a warrior now. My life is with the Clan. My old life wasn’t bad, but it’s over, and I’m glad.”

“Oh, okay,” mewed Cinderpaw, sounding unconcerned. “See you later!” She spun around and charged off into the trees.

Fireheart stood alone in the woods, his heart thudding as he stared at the Twoleg fence. A moon ago, his words to Cinderpaw about being glad his old life was over would have been utterly true. Now he was not so sure. His fur tingled with the knowledge that some of his happiest moments recently had been spent sharing memories with his gentle kittypet sister.

<p>CHAPTER 13 </p>
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