Snowpaw turned on her. “You can shut up!”
Bluepaw backed away, alarmed, then was relieved to see Snowpaw’s anger melt as soon as their gaze met.
“Sorry,” Snowpaw apologized. “I was just upset.”
“You were fast,” Bluepaw encouraged her.
“I’m afraid speed doesn’t count when it comes to mice,” Sparrowpelt meowed. “They don’t stray far from their burrows, and they move quickly. This is why it’s important to master stalking. Skill is far more important than speed.”
Stonepelt looked at Sparrowpelt. “Maybe we should save hunting for another day and practice stalking instead.”
Sparrowpelt nodded, though Snowpaw sighed.
But Bluepaw was eager to show her mentor the skills Patchpaw had already taught her. She dropped low to the ground, keeping her tail pressed against the leaves, and began to stalk forward.
“Not bad,” Stonepelt meowed. “But lift your tail a little. You don’t want it dragging through the leaves. Lower your chin, too, and flatten your ears. You need to try to disguise your shape.”
“Like this?” Snowpaw crouched beside Bluepaw, ears flat, chin swaying close to the ground like a snake.
“Good,” Sparrowpelt praised her. “Now move forward slowly. Remember, make your movements as small as you can.”
Bluepaw put one paw lightly in front of the other, pulling herself forward; she lifted her belly when she heard it drag on the leaves. She placed each paw down so gently that the leaves flattened beneath her without crunching.
“Promising,” Stonepelt purred, and Bluepaw let out a sigh of relief.
They practiced until the sun began to slide behind the trees.
“It’s time we went home,” Sparrowpelt announced.
“Just one more go,” Bluepaw pleaded. She was so close to being able to move silently through the leaves.
“You can practice more in camp, if you like.”
“But there aren’t so many leaves there,” Bluepaw complained.
Snowpaw sat up and fluffed out her fur. “Come on, Bluepaw. It’s getting cold, and I’m hungry.”
Sighing, Bluepaw straightened up. “Okay.”
She watched Sparrowpelt and Snowpaw head away through the trees.
“We can practice again tomorrow,” Stonepelt promised, bounding away to catch up with Sparrowpelt.
Bluepaw trailed a few tail-lengths behind her Clanmates, wishing she could practice now. Suddenly she heard the skitter of paws on bark. She froze. Glancing sideways, she spotted a squirrel sitting on a tree root with a nut between its paws. It was gnawing busily, absorbed in its tasty morsel.
Bluepaw dropped into a crouch. Raising her belly and lifting her tail so it just skimmed the leaves, she began creeping toward it, silent as a snake on a rock. She was trembling with excitement; her heart was pounding so hard, she thought the squirrel must hear it.
But the squirrel only carried on gnawing until Bluepaw was so close, she could hear its teeth scrape the nut. Holding her breath, she stopped and pressed her backside to the ground, tensing the muscles in her hind legs.
Now!
The squirrel had no time to move. She knocked it from the root, pinned it to the ground, and sunk her teeth into its neck. The warm tang of blood surprised her as the squirrel went limp beneath her paws.
“What’s happened?” Stonepelt leaped onto the root behind her, his pelt bristling.
Bluepaw sat up with the heavy squirrel hanging from her jaws.
Stonepelt’s eyes gleamed. “Well done!”
Sparrowpelt and Snowpaw appeared behind him. Snowpaw’s eyes grew round, and Sparrowpelt opened his mouth and stared for a moment.
“Did you catch that?”
Joy rising like a bird in her heart, Bluepaw nodded.
“It’s almost as big as you,” Snowpaw whispered.
“Give thanks to StarClan for the life this creature has given to feed the Clan,” Stonepelt meowed.
Thank you, StarClan!
Stonepelt brushed against her. “Let’s get it back to camp while it’s still warm.”
Bluepaw was relieved when he took the squirrel from her. She’d been wondering how she’d carry it home without tripping over. “Thanks.” She trotted happily past him and headed for the ravine.
“No way!” Leopardpaw stared in disbelief as Stonepelt laid the squirrel on the fresh-kill pile.
“All by herself!” Snowpaw boasted about her littermate.
Bluepaw lowered her gaze as her Clanmates gathered to see her catch, hoping they wouldn’t think she was being smug.
“Was that your first hunting session?” Thrushpelt asked. He sounded really impressed.
Bluepaw nodded.
“You’re lucky to have her,” Fuzzypelt told Stonepelt.
“ThunderClan’s lucky to have her!” Windflight’s pale green eyes were round. “I don’t remember any other apprentice catching prey on their first try.”
Bluepaw scanned the camp. Where was Stormtail? Had he seen what she’d caught? Frustration pricked her pelt when she realized that he was nowhere to be seen and there was no fresh scent of him in camp. He must have gone out with the dusk patrol.
She felt Moonflower’s muzzle brush her cheek. “I’m so proud,” she whispered.
“I’m going to catch something tomorrow,” Snowpaw promised.
“It’s not a competition,” Sparrowpelt reminded her.
Weedwhisker padded from the fallen tree. “I smell fresh squirrel.”
Snowpaw skipped to meet him. “Bluepaw caught it,” she announced.
While Weedwhisker admired the catch, Stonepelt took Bluepaw aside. “I’m very impressed with you today. You listened well and you learned quickly.”
Bluepaw felt a purr spring to her throat.
“I want you to come to the Gathering tonight.”
Bluepaw gulped. She’d been an apprentice for only two days. Was she ready to meet the other Clans? She’d be one of the youngest cats there, and with so many new faces and in such a new place—what if she got lost? Or separated from her Clan? Nerves gnawed at her belly.
“I assume you want to come?” Stonepelt queried.
Bluepaw nodded at once. She wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity like this, no matter how scary it seemed.
“Good. Now, get some food and rest as much as you can. We’ll leave when it gets dark.”
A light breeze made the gorse barrier whisper in the moonlight, and the rising stars turned the dens silver.
Warriors were gathering at the camp’s entrance, ready to leave.
Bluepaw felt a worm of anxiety in her belly. Would she be able to keep up? She’d had a nap, but her legs still felt tired from the hunt.
“I wish I were going with you.” Snowpaw flicked her tail crossly.
“I wish you were going with me, too,” Bluepaw mewed back.
Windflight was nudging Thistlekit back toward the nursery. “It’ll be your turn soon enough.”
“But I’m almost as big as Bluepaw, and she’s going!” Thistlekit complained.
“You’re not an apprentice,” Windflight reminded him.
Adderfang was staring at Highrock while Tawnyspots paced around him, his eyes gleaming. Stormtail was talking with Stonepelt beside the barrier. Were they discussing her training? Bluepaw tucked her paws closer to her belly, wishing her butterflies away.
Moonflower pressed in beside her. “Stay close to me.”
“Shouldn’t I stay near Leopardpaw and Patchpaw?” She eyed the two apprentices, who were chatting near the entrance, tails sleek, ears pricked, not a sign of ruffled fur. Weren’t they nervous?
“Next time,” Moonflower advised. “Once you know what to do.”
What to do? Alarm shot through Bluepaw. Was she supposed to do something?