Эрин Хантер: Legends of the Clans

“We hurt Thistleclaw really badly!” Redkit announced.

“I thought he was dead!” squeaked Brindlekit.

“I’m fine,” Thistleclaw purred. “Just a little rough play, that’s all.”

Featherwhisker mewed in amusement. “What kind of warrior gets knocked down by kits?” he teased before he trotted back to his den.

“One who teaches us the best battle moves!” Spottedkit mewed, and felt a burst of warmth as Thistleclaw blinked at her.

“You’ll make a good little medicine cat one day!” he mewed.

“No way,” Spottedkit told him. “I want to be a warrior like you!”

Thistleclaw bowed his head. “In that case, it will be an honor to fight alongside you, Spottedkit.”

“I can’t wait!” Spottedkit whispered.

“Spottedkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed.” Spottedkit was trembling so much, she could hardly lift her head to look up at Sunstar. The leader’s yellow eyes were warm as he gazed at her. “From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Spottedpaw. Your mentor will be Thrushpelt.”

The rest of Sunstar’s words were lost in a blur as Spottedpaw stared at the sandy gray tom who stepped up beside her. Thrushpelt bent his head to brush his muzzle against Spottedpaw’s. He smelled of leaves and prey and the wild forest.

“Can we go outside the camp now?” Spottedpaw whispered.

Thrushpelt purred. “In a moment, little one.”

Around them, their Clanmates’ voices echoed through the ravine. “Redpaw! Willowpaw! Spottedpaw!”

Spottedpaw’s littermates stood proudly beside her, their fur gleaming. Redpaw had been given grumpy Halftail as his mentor, and Willowpaw was paired with Poppydawn, who was a bit old but a brilliant hunter. Beyond them, Spottedpaw glimpsed the other apprentices: Frostpaw, Brindlepaw, and Whitepaw, who were shouting the new names the loudest, and Tigerpaw, who was standing a little way off and not shouting anything. Instead he was glaring at the new apprentices as if they’d put brambles in his nest.

“Ignore him,” Redpaw whispered in Spottedpaw’s ear. “He’s afraid we’ll make him look bad when we learn everything faster than him!”

“Tigerpaw should be happy to have more apprentices,” Willowpaw pointed out. “He and Whitepaw won’t have to do all the duties now.”

Halftail padded up to them. “Enough chatter,” he ordered. “Are you ready to see our territory, Redpaw?”

“Absolutely!” squeaked Redpaw, bouncing on his toes. Then he looked embarrassed and mewed, “Of course, Halftail. Lead the way!”

The dark brown tom looked quizzically at him. “Well, I wasn’t going to ask you to lead.”

“We’ll join you,” said Thistleclaw, his tail twitching with amusement at the excited looks on the three new apprentices’ faces. Tigerpaw glowered, but said nothing. Willowpaw widened her eyes at Spottedpaw and Spottedpaw purred back. She didn’t care who came, she just wanted to see outside the ravine!

Green. So much green. Leaves, branches, trunks, ferns, grass… And so many scents! Thrushpelt tried to point out the differences between squirrel, mouse, blackbird, and pigeon, but even though Spottedpaw had encountered all of these on the fresh-kill pile, they smelled new and strange against the background of trees and undergrowth.

Tigerpaw bounded ahead, giving a running commentary: “This is treecutplace. Twolegs cut down the trees here. I don’t know why.”

Spottedpaw sniffed the pine-tinged air. The ground was soft and prickly with needles, and there was hardly any trace of prey. Her legs were aching and her paws stung. She hadn’t realized the territory was so huge. How did the border patrols manage to get around so fast?

Thrushpelt stopped to renew a scent marker, and Thistleclaw slowed until he was walking alongside Spottedpaw. “How are you doing?” he meowed.

“Okay!” Spottedpaw puffed. “It’s bigger than I thought.”

Thistleclaw purred. “It won’t seem so far once you’ve been on a few patrols. Can you see that fence over there?”

Spottedpaw peered between the trunks. The trees stopped beside a line of dark green grass, edged with a long stretch of pale wood. “Did ThunderClan make that?”

“No, Twolegs did. They live behind that fence in Twolegplace. Watch out for kittypets crossing the border. They’re too fat and useless to steal any prey, but they like to cause trouble.”

Spottedpaw let her hackles rise and sank her claws into the pine needles. “I’ll chase them out!” she growled. “Sneaky trespassers! They need to learn that this is ThunderClan’s territory, not theirs!”

Thistleclaw cuffed her gently over the ear. “You’ll make an excellent warrior with that attitude.”

“Not without learning how to hunt and defend herself,” Thrushpelt put in, joining them at a trot. “You’re looking tired, Spottedpaw. Do you want to go back?”

Spottedpaw lifted her head. “No way! Can I see the Thunderpath now?”

She noticed Thistleclaw exchange a glance with Thrushpelt over her head. “You’ll have your paws full with this one,” Thistleclaw commented.

Thrushpelt flicked the tip of his tail. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he meowed. “We’ll finish patrolling the territory on our own, thanks. I don’t want to keep Tigerpaw from his training.”

Thistleclaw dipped his head. “No chance of that. Tigerpaw’s the keenest apprentice I’ve ever seen!”

Wait until you see how keen I can be! Spottedpaw thought as she watched the two cats head back to the camp. I’m going to work harder than any cat to become a warrior!

“Thrushpelt, you and Spottedpaw can join Adderfang’s hunting patrol with Thistleclaw and Tigerpaw.” Tawnyspots nodded to the cats gathered in front of him. “I expect a full fresh-kill pile by sunhigh!”

Spottedpaw bounced on her toes. Yes! Now she could show Thistleclaw her hunter’s crouch! She pressed her front paws into the ground and stretched out her back until her tail curled. Thrushpelt had made her practice her crouch over and over again for the last half-moon, and she was confident she could catch anything—even a badger—by now.

She followed her mentor through the gorse tunnel, screwing up her eyes as a thorn sprang back at her. Thistleclaw was just behind her.

“I haven’t seen you on a hunting patrol for a while,” he commented as they scrambled up the ravine side by side.

“Thrushpelt wanted me to get my technique right first,” Spottedpaw explained, puffing slightly.

“Your hunting skills looked good enough to me before your apprentice ceremony!” Thistleclaw meowed.

Spottedpaw felt warm under her fur. Before she could reply, Thrushpelt called to her. “Stick close to me, please. I’ll tell you which scents are worth following.”

Spottedpaw glanced at Thistleclaw and saw him roll his eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your nose, either,” the gray-and-white warrior whispered.

Swallowing a purr of laughter, Spottedpaw joined her mentor as he fell in behind Adderfang. She could hear Tigerpaw’s heavy footsteps alongside Thistleclaw. If he kept stomping like that, all the prey would be in WindClan before they had a chance to get close!

They headed for the river through sun-warmed ferns that tickled Spottedpaw’s back. Adderfang picked up the first scent, a powerful waft of river vole, which sent him bounding toward the gray bulk of Sunningrocks. Thrushpelt paused to sniff the air. “Pigeon over there,” he hissed, nodding at a thicket bent double under the weight of starry white elderflowers.