Sign Of The Moon

Lionblaze glanced back at the silver-and-white she-cat, then at Dovepaw, shock and anxiety mingling in his amber eyes. “I guess the Dark Forest training is taking its toll,” he muttered.

“And whose fault is that?” Dovepaw flashed back at him. However urgent it was to find out what the cats of the Dark Forest were plotting, it wasn’t fair of Lionblaze and Jayfeather to put the whole burden on her sister’s shoulders.

Ivypaw isn’t even a warrior yet!

Lionblaze let out a sigh that told Dovepaw he agreed with her privately, but wasn’t prepared to say so. “I’m not going to talk about that now,” he meowed. “It’s time for you to concentrate on your assessment.”

Dovepaw gave an irritable shrug.

Lionblaze halted as the old Twoleg nest came into sight. Dovepaw picked up traces of herb scent from Jayfeather’s garden, though most of the stems and leaves were blackened by frost. She could hear the faint scutterings of prey in the grass and in the debris under the trees. Spiderleg was right: This would be a good spot to hunt.

“Okay,” Lionblaze began. “First we want to assess your tracking skills. Cinderheart, what do you want Ivypaw to catch?”

“We’ll go for mice. Okay, Ivypaw?”

The silver tabby gave a tense nod.

“But not inside the old Twoleg nest,” Millie added. “That would be too easy.”

“I know.” Dovepaw thought her sister sounded too weary to put one paw in front of another, let alone catch mice. But she headed off into the trees without hesitating; Cinderheart and Millie followed at a distance.

Dovepaw watched until the frostbitten bracken hid Ivypaw from her sight, then sent out her extended senses to track her as she padded behind the abandoned nest toward the group of pine trees. Mice were squeaking and scuffling among the fallen needles; Dovepaw hoped that her sister would scent them and make a good catch.

She was concentrating so hard on following Ivypaw that she forgot about her own assessment until Spiderleg flicked his tail-tip over her ear.

“Hey!” she meowed, spinning around to face the black warrior.

“Lionblaze said he’d like you to try for a squirrel,” Spiderleg meowed. “If you’re sure you want to become a warrior, that is.”

“I’m sure,” Dovepaw growled. “Sorry, Lionblaze.”

Lionblaze was standing just behind Spiderleg, looking annoyed. Dovepaw was angry with herself for missing his order, but even more with Spiderleg for being so obnoxious about it.

It’s mouse-brained to have two judges, she grumbled to herself. Mentors have been assessing their own apprentices for more seasons than there are leaves on the trees!

Raising her head, she tasted the air and brightened when she picked up a nearby scent of squirrel. It was coming from the other side of a clump of bramble; setting her paws down lightly, Dovepaw skirted the thorns until she came out into a small clearing and spotted the squirrel nibbling a nut at the foot of an ivy-covered oak tree.

A wind was rising, rattling the bare branches. Dovepaw slid around the edge of the clearing, using the bracken for cover, until she was downwind of her prey. Its scent flooded strongly over her, making her jaws water.

Dropping into her best hunter’s crouch, Dovepaw began to creep up on the squirrel. But she couldn’t resist sending out her senses just once more to check on Ivypaw, and she jumped as she picked up the tiny shriek, quickly cut off, of a mouse under her sister’s claws.

Her uncontrolled movement rustled a dead leaf, and instantly the squirrel fled up the tree, its bushy tail flowing out behind it. Dovepaw bounded across the grass and hurled herself up the trunk, but the squirrel had vanished into the branches. She clung to an ivy stem, trying to listen for movement beyond the wind and the creaking of the tree, but it was no use.

“Mouse dung!” she spat, letting herself drop to the ground again.

Spiderleg stalked up to her. “For StarClan’s sake, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “A kit just out of the nursery could have caught that squirrel! It’s a good thing none of the other Clans saw you, or they’d think ThunderClan doesn’t know how to train its apprentices.”

Dovepaw’s neck fur bristled. “Have you never missed a catch?” she muttered under her breath.

“Well?” the black warrior demanded. “Let’s hear what you did wrong.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” Lionblaze put in before Dovepaw could answer. “That was good stalking work, when you moved downwind of the squirrel.”

Dovepaw flashed him a grateful look. “I guess I got distracted for a heartbeat,” she admitted. “I moved a leaf, and the squirrel heard me.”

“And you could have been faster chasing it,” Spiderleg told her. “You might have caught it if you’d put on a bit more speed.”

Dovepaw nodded glumly. We haven’t all got legs as long as yours! “Does this mean I’ve failed my assessment?”

Spiderleg flicked his ears but didn’t answer. “I’m going to see how Millie is getting on with Ivypaw,” he announced, darting off toward the abandoned nest.

Dovepaw gazed at her mentor. “Sorry,” she meowed.