“There’s no end to it!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, yes, there is,” Molewhisker assured him. “Some cats have traveled all the way around it. Look over there,” he continued, pointing with his tail. “Can you see those trees and bushes? That’s RiverClan territory.”
Alderpaw narrowed his eyes and could just make out the trees his mentor was talking about, hazy with the distance.
“RiverClan cats love the lake,” Cherryfall mewed. “They swim in it and catch fish.”
“Weird!” Sparkpaw responded. Giving a little bounce, she added, “Can I catch a fish?” Without waiting for her mentor to reply, she dashed across the pebbles and skidded to a halt with her forepaws splashing at the edge of the water. “Cold!” she yowled, leaping backward with her neck fur bristling. Then she let out a little huff of laughter and bounced to the edge again, her tail waving excitedly. “I can’t see any fish,” she meowed.
Molewhisker heaved a sigh. “You won’t, if you go on like that. Or anything else, for that matter. Yowling and prancing around like that, you’ll scare away all the prey in the forest.”
Sparkpaw backed away from the water again and joined her Clanmates beside the bushes, her tail drooping. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“That’s okay.” Cherryfall rested her tail briefly on her apprentice’s shoulders. “We’re not hunting right now. And I know how exciting it is to see the lake for the first time.”
Molewhisker flicked his ears. “Let’s move on.”
He took the lead as the cats padded along the lakeshore. Soon they came to a stream, which emerged from the forest and flowed into the lake.
“This is the ShadowClan border,” Cherryfall announced.
Alderpaw wrinkled his nose at a strong, unfamiliar reek that came from the opposite side of the stream.
“Yuck! What’s that?” Sparkpaw asked, taking a pace back and passing her tongue over her jaws as if she could taste something nasty.
“That’s the scent of ShadowClan,” Molewhisker answered.
“That’s cat scent?” Sparkpaw sounded outraged. “I thought only foxes stank like that.”
“It only smells bad because we’re not used to it,” Molewhisker pointed out, beginning to lead the way upstream, back into the shelter of the trees. “We probably smell just as bad to them.”
“No way!” Sparkpaw muttered under her breath.
“You know that all the Clans scent-mark their boundaries,” Cherryfall explained as they continued to follow the stream. “Of course, we all know where the borders are, but marking them reminds every cat that they aren’t supposed to enter another Clan’s territory without permission.”
“You should be able to pick up the ThunderClan scent markers, too,” Molewhisker mewed. “We’ll show you how to set them. Before long, you’ll be doing it as part of a border patrol.”
“Cool!” Alderpaw exclaimed. For the first time he imagined himself as a warrior, maybe even leading a patrol, setting scent markers to protect his Clan’s territory. I’m learning so much today! I feel like I’m becoming a real part of my Clan.
After they had traveled some distance into the forest, the stream veered sharply away, but the line of ShadowClan and ThunderClan scent markers continued in the same direction across the ground. On the ShadowClan side the leafy trees and thick undergrowth soon gave way to dark pines, the ground covered by a thick layer of needles.
“Now we’ll show you something really different,” Cherryfall promised. She beckoned the two apprentices into a hazel thicket, signaling with her tail for them to keep quiet. “What do you think of that?”
Alderpaw gazed out into a clearing dotted with weird structures: they looked like little dens made of strange green pelts. Tasting the air, he realized they were right on the border between the two Clans. As well as the scent markings, he managed to pick up another scent he had never encountered before.
“Is this some sort of Twoleg stuff?” he asked. “I’ve never seen a Twoleg, but Squirrelflight says they come into the forest sometimes.”
“Exactly right,” Molewhisker purred, giving Alderpaw a light flick over his ear with his tail. Alderpaw felt his chest swell with pride. “In greenleaf, Twolegs come and live here in these little dens.”
“Why do they do that?” Sparkpaw asked, sounding as if she didn’t believe him.
Molewhisker shrugged. “StarClan knows.”
“Are they here now?” Alderpaw asked.
“They’re probably still asleep in there,” Cherryfall mewed. “Lazy lot. Anyway, this clearing is in ShadowClan territory, so they’re ShadowClan’s problem. Let’s be on our way.”
Alderpaw’s legs were beginning to get tired as the mentors turned away from the border and plunged into deeper woodland. They seemed to walk for seasons, crossing leafy glades, skirting bramble thickets, and leaping across small streams. His belly started to feel hollow. It had been a long time since he had eaten the blackbird back in the camp.
Eventually he began to hear the sound of flowing water up ahead, as if they were coming to a wider stream. Before it came into sight, Cherryfall signaled for them to halt. “What can you smell?” she asked.
Alderpaw and Sparkpaw stood side by side, their jaws wide as they drew in air over their scent glands. Alderpaw concentrated hard, trying to separate all the different scents that seemed to be attacking him.
“Mouse!” Sparkpaw exclaimed as he was still trying to focus. “Please can we hunt now? I’m starving!”
“Yes, mouse,” Cherryfall mewed, ignoring her apprentice’s pleading. “What else?”
Alderpaw forced his hunger down, focusing all his attention on what he could smell. “There are two scents close together,” he began hesitantly, afraid that he was going to get it wrong. “And they’re really strong. ThunderClan and . . .” The other scent was vaguely unpleasant, and he remembered what they had learned at the ShadowClan border. “Is it the scent of another Clan?”
Molewhisker and Cherryfall exchanged a glance. “That’s right,” Molewhisker meowed. “Do you know which Clan?”
How am I supposed to know? Alderpaw asked himself. I’ve never smelled it before! Then he remembered something else.
“You told us RiverClan is way over on the other side of the lake. So this one must be WindClan.”
“Excellent!” Cherryfall purred. “Let’s go and see the border.”
She led the way to the bank of another stream, this time running at the bottom of a deep cleft covered in lush vegetation. “Over there is WindClan territory,” she mewed with a wave of her tail.
Beyond the stream the trees quickly gave way to a steep hill covered in short, tough grass, the slope rearing up like the arched back of a cat.
“WindClan cats live there?” Sparkpaw asked.
Molewhisker nodded. “Yes, on the moor.”
“It looks bleak,” Alderpaw murmured with a shiver. “They must have their camp somewhere in these woods, right?”
“Wrong,” his mentor responded. “They camp in a hollow on the moor, surrounded by gorse bushes. It wouldn’t do for ThunderClan, but they seem to like it.”
“I’d hate to be out there without any trees,” Sparkpaw mewed. “I think—”
She broke off as a rabbit appeared, dashing over the brow of the hill. A moment later a thin, leggy tabby crested the rise, racing along in pursuit, her belly fur brushing the moorland grass and her tail streaming out behind her. Both creatures disappeared into a hollow, but a thin shriek, abruptly cut off, told the ThunderClan cats that the tabby had caught her prey.
“They’re pretty fast,” Molewhisker commented.
“I could just eat a rabbit,” Sparkpaw sighed, licking her lips as if a piece of succulent prey were lying in front of her.
“Then we’ll get back to camp,” Cherryfall meowed. “It’s not far from here.”
“But I thought we were going to practice hunting!” Sparkpaw protested.
Alderpaw twitched his tail, hoping the mentors would say no. He
felt nervous enough about remembering all the new things they’d learned without adding a hunting lesson to the mix. But Cherryfall and Molewhisker glanced at each other. “Okay,” Molewhisker agreed after a moment. “But even if you catch something, you can’t eat it. Everything goes back to the fresh-kill pile. The Clan must be fed first.”
Alderpaw’s heart sank. His belly was already rumbling. But he tried to hide his disappointment.
Sparkpaw shrugged. “Fine. But we can still try, right?”
Heading away from the stream, the cats reached the edge of a clearing where a huge oak tree stood, its roots writhing up above the surface of the ground. Thick clumps of fern grew around it.
“This is a good place for prey,” Molewhisker mewed, halting. “See what you can pick up.”
Alderpaw closed his eyes, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the different scents flooding over him, and the different sounds he could hear in the undergrowth and the branches above his head. This is a lot harder than picking out the WindClan scent. That was so strong it was hard to miss.
Finally Alderpaw managed to home in on a scent he recognized: a shrew. He could hear a tiny scratching noise in the undergrowth, coming from the right direction. Opening his eyes, he spotted movement in the grass stems.
But am I sure . . . ? he asked himself, hesitating to point it out.
Before he decided whether to speak, Sparkpaw pointed with her tail. “There’s a shrew over there.”
“I can scent it too,” Alderpaw agreed, hoping his mentor would believe he had spotted it for himself.
“Okay, you can try catching it,” Cherryfall meowed, her gaze flicking from Alderpaw to Sparkpaw. “You’ve seen the hunter’s crouch, haven’t you—like this?” She demonstrated, pressing herself close to the ground with her muscles bunched, ready to move forward.
Alderpaw and Sparkpaw did their best to copy her.
“Good,” Cherryfall went on. “Now, remember to keep low, and set your paws down really lightly. Careful you don’t tread on a twig.”
“And watch your tail,” Molewhisker added. “If you let it wave around, your prey will know where you are.”
“Sparkpaw, you try first,” Cherryfall mewed.
Barely hesitating, Sparkpaw began to creep forward, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She kept her paws tucked in close to her body and her tail wrapped along her side. Suddenly she leaped forward, disappearing into the thickest part of the undergrowth.
A heartbeat later Sparkpaw reappeared, the limp body of a shrew dangling from her jaws. She paced back toward the others, her head raised proudly and her tail straight up in the air.
“Wow!” Cherryfall exclaimed as Sparkpaw dropped the shrew at her paws. “I’ve never heard of an apprentice catching something on her very first try.”
“Neither have I,” Molewhisker agreed. “Good job, Sparkpaw.”
“Great catch,” Alderpaw meowed.
“Oh, it was easy,” Sparkpaw boasted. “I just did what you told me.”
Molewhisker turned to his apprentice. “Let’s see if Alderpaw can do as well.”
Alderpaw felt himself stiffen with anxiety. I sort of wish she’d missed that catch. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about missing mine. But he forced himself to push the envious thoughts aside.
“We’ll move on,” Cherryfall decided. “We’ve probably scared all the prey away around here.”
Alderpaw felt his paws growing heavier with every paw step as he followed the mentors. I just know I’m going to mess up. His belly was churning by the time they halted beside a small pool, with bushes and long grass growing around its edge.
“We should find something here,” Molewhisker meowed. “Okay, both of you, show me the hunter’s crouch.”
Alderpaw squatted beside his sister, his pelt prickling with anxiety as both mentors padded around them, observing them closely.
“Good, Sparkpaw,” Cherryfall mewed. “But keep your tail a bit closer.”
“And Alderpaw, tuck your paws in a bit more,” Molewhisker added.
“Yes, you can’t have your hindpaws sticking out if you want a good pounce,” Sparkpaw put in.
I know that, Alderpaw thought, giving her a glare.
“And you have to be really, really quick,” Sparkpaw went on. “Your prey won’t wait around for you. And your claws—”
“Sparkpaw, knock it off.” Molewhisker’s tone was irritable. “You’re not the mentor here. You’re a brand-new apprentice, just like Alderpaw.”
Sparkpaw flattened her ears, then nodded reluctantly, while Alderpaw gave his mentor a grateful look. Molewhisker responded by brushing his tail over Alderpaw’s shoulders.
“Remember what we told you about keeping low,” Cherryfall continued. “And watch where you’re putting your paws. The snap of a twig, the wave of a fern frond, and your prey’s gone.”
Alderpaw nodded, trying to take in all the information. Then the moment he had dreaded finally arrived.
“Now, Alderpaw,” Molewhisker meowed. “See if you can find some prey.”
Alderpaw narrowed his eyes and concentrated, tasting the air. The scents here weren’t quite so complicated, and he soon pinpointed a vole underneath a bush close to the water.
“There’s a vole under there,” he murmured to Molewhisker, angling his ears toward the bush.
Molewhisker gave him an approving nod. “Good. Go after it, then.”
Alderpaw adjusted his crouch and began to creep forward, then hesitated. Is the vole really under that bush, or in the clump of long grass just beside it? Should I go straight for it, or loop around the grass so it can’t see me coming?
“What’s the matter?” Molewhisker hissed impatiently. “Go!”
Alderpaw was frozen with indecision. I have to get this right, but I don’t know how!
While he was still hesitating, unable to move, the vole suddenly scampered out of the depths of the bush, plopped into the water, and vanished.
“Mouse-brain!” Sparkpaw exclaimed.
I probably deserve that, Alderpaw admitted to himself. He hung his head in shame as Molewhisker padded up to him. “A good hunter doesn’t hesitate,” his mentor meowed. “You need to trust your instincts.” Then he relaxed a little and touched Alderpaw on the shoulder with his tail. “Never mind. There’ll be other prey.”
His mentor’s kindness only made Alderpaw feel more ashamed. I’ve let Molewhisker down.
Sparkpaw suddenly darted off into the bushes, and Alderpaw looked up, startled. She emerged a moment later, swinging the body of a plump mouse by its tail.
“Sparkpaw, that’s amazing!” Cherryfall’s eyes were sparkling with delight. “You’re going to be a great hunter.”
“Yeah, good catch,” Molewhisker muttered, his tail-tip twitching in annoyance.
I’ve let him down again, Alderpaw thought wretchedly. I wanted so much to make him proud of me!
Cherryfall picked up Sparkpaw’s shrew and led the way as the cats headed back toward camp. Alderpaw trudged along with his head down, feeling more miserable and disgraced with every paw step. I can’t believe this is happening!
“Don’t worry,” Molewhisker meowed briskly, padding along beside him. “You’ll learn. You just have to go for it, not hesitate like you did back there.”
“I know,” Alderpaw murmured. But that’s easy enough to say.
He didn’t want to look at Cherryfall and Sparkpaw bouncing along ahead of them, carrying Sparkpaw’s prey. And just when he thought he couldn’t possibly feel more depressed, Ivypool, Birchfall, and Sorrelstripe emerged from the undergrowth. They were also heading for the camp, and also carrying prey.
“You’ve had good hunting,” Cherryfall remarked, nodding toward the couple of squirrels and the rabbit the patrol were carrying.
“So have you, by the look of it,” Ivypool responded.
“Oh, these are Sparkpaw’s,” Cherryfall meowed. “And it’s her first day out of camp. Not bad, huh?”
“Wow, that’s amazing!?
?? Sorrelstripe exclaimed. “Good job, Sparkpaw.”
“You’ve got a good apprentice there,” Birchfall added.
“It’s because Cherryfall is such a good mentor,” Sparkpaw mewed.
No cat took any notice of Alderpaw, which suited him just fine. His tail drooped lower and lower with disappointment in himself, and he wished he could sink into the forest floor and disappear.
As they entered the camp, Alderpaw spotted Bramblestar standing on the Highledge outside his den, talking to Graystripe. As soon as he saw the returning cats, he broke off his conversation, ran lightly down the tumbled rocks and bounded across the clearing to meet them.
“How did your first day out of camp go?” he asked.
Cherryfall and Molewhisker exchanged a glance; Alderpaw could see they were amused by Bramblestar’s eagerness to find out how his kits had done.
“I caught a shrew and a mouse!” Sparkpaw announced, puffing out her chest with pride.
“Excellent!” Bramblestar exclaimed, giving his daughter a lick around her ears. “And how about you, Alderpaw?”
Alderpaw was silent, looking down at his paws.
The awkward silence stretched out for a few heartbeats. It was Sparkpaw who spoke first. “Oh, he really listened to his mentor, and he learned all about ThunderClan’s territory.”
But there’s nothing special about that, Alderpaw thought miserably.
“I’m sure Alderpaw will get the hang of hunting,” Molewhisker meowed. “He’s trying hard.”
Alderpaw felt even worse to think that was the best his littermate and his mentor could find to say about him. I just want Bramblestar to be proud of me! With a desperate struggle he managed to raise his head and look at his father, bracing himself to meet disappointment in his gaze.
But Bramblestar’s eyes revealed nothing. He hesitated for a moment, then gave a little nod. “Cherryfall and Molewhisker, you and Sparkpaw take the prey to the fresh-kill pile,” he directed. “I’m sure you’re hungry. Alderpaw, I want a word with you alone.”
Sparkpaw shot Alderpaw a sympathetic glance as she and the other cats left. Alderpaw stood once more with his head lowered. “Are you angry with me?” he asked Bramblestar in a low voice. “I tried. I really did.” He kept his gaze fixed on the ground; he couldn’t bring himself to look up at his father again.