Where was Hawkfrost?
Ivypaw felt nervous. She didn’t want to be alone in the wide pasture today. The breeze was moaning across the dull, dry grass, ruffling her fur the wrong way.
There! A dark rump showed above the grass, thick, bushed tail flicking.
She scampered toward the RiverClan warrior.
“You’re here!” she puffed, relieved when he turned and fixed his familiar dark blue gaze on her. “I thought you weren’t coming! I’ve been looking for you for ages.”
Hawkfrost sat up and gazed at her lazily through half-closed eyes. “Lucky you found me today, then.”
“Teach me something new!” she begged. Cinderheart was already impressed by the progress she had made in training; she wanted to please her mentor again today when they practiced battle moves.
Hawkfrost yawned, hunching his shoulders as he stretched his spine.
“Just one battle move,” Ivypaw pleaded.
“Haven’t I given you enough to practice already?”
“I’ve practiced it all. Now I need something new.” Ivypaw widened her eyes hopefully. “Please!”
Wearily, Hawkfrost stood up. “Do you pester your Clanmates this much?” he murmured.
“They don’t teach me such interesting stuff,” Ivypaw mewed.
“Watch carefully.” Hawkfrost lunged for her, hooking her hind legs under her and rolling her over with his forepaw till she found herself splayed on her back.
“Wow!” she squeaked, springing to her paws. “Let me try it.”
She leaped at Hawkfrost, curling a paw around his hind legs and tugging.
Nothing happened. The broad-shouldered warrior turned his head to look back at her. “Have you started?”
Frustrated, Ivypaw backed away and tried again.
Still, the RiverClan warrior didn’t budge.
Ivypaw put her head to one side. “How did you do that, exactly?”
“Run your paw along my hind legs,” Hawkfrost ordered. “Can you feel the tendon along the back of the joint?”
Ivypaw felt a tough cord behind the crook of his legs, like a stretched mousetail.
“Aim there,” Hawkfrost told her. “A sharp jab. Try to hit both legs at once.”
Excited, Ivypaw crouched down, fixing her gaze, then leaped. She brought her forepaws down hard, hitting the tendon, and Hawkfrost’s legs buckled beneath him. Seizing the advantage, she used her shoulders to shove him sideways. Unbalanced, he toppled over and she threw herself on top of him, pinning him to the ground.
“Good,” he grunted. He got to his paws, shaking her off. “But make more of your advantage. The surprise will last only a moment. You must use that moment. Try again.”
Ivypaw tried the move again, but this time swept his forepaws from under him too. Her teeth were at his exposed throat before he could recover himself.
He shoved her off with a hiss. “Not bad.”
Pride rippled through her pelt.
“We might make something of you after all,” he conceded.
She lifted her chin. “Of course!”
A shadow rippled through the grass some distance away. Ivypaw jerked her head to look at it and saw eyes glinting at her. Some cat was watching. She stiffened. “Who’s that?” As she spoke, the cat ducked lower in the grass and slunk away.
Hawkfrost shrugged. “I mentioned you to a couple of friends,” he meowed. “It was probably one of them. No doubt he wanted to see the apprentice who keeps badgering me for extra training.”
Ivypaw tossed her head. “He probably wanted to learn from me.”
“Yeah, right.” Hawkfrost cuffed her softly over the ear. “Come on, try that move again. See if you can do it twice.”
“Okay!” Ivypaw crouched down. “I want to get it perfect before I show Dovepaw.”
Hawkfrost blinked. “Who’s Dovepaw?”
“My sister.” Ivypaw wriggled her hindquarters, ready to pounce. “The one I told you about. Remember?”
She sprang up, hitting the tendon harder this time, feeling a surge of triumph as the broad-shouldered warrior crumpled and she rolled him to the ground.
Sitting back on her haunches, she wiped a paw over her whiskers while she got her breath back. “All the senior warriors think Dovepaw’s the best apprentice ever.” She shrugged. “They’re always asking her stuff, like she knows something no other cat does.”
Hawkfrost sat down and lapped at his chest. “And does she?” he asked between licks.
“There’s something she’s not telling me, but I can’t figure out what it is.” Ivypaw cocked her head. “I just wish she wouldn’t act like she’s so special. She’s always got her ears pricked like she’s on guard: like no one else in the Clan can keep us safe.”
Hawkfrost finished grooming his chest and ran a claw across a clover leaf. The soft green tissue split and darkened beneath his touch. “Did you tell her about me?”
“I was going to,” Ivypaw mewed, irritation prickling as she remembered their interrupted conversation. “But I didn’t get a chance.” She sniffed. “Now I don’t want to tell her.” The tip of her tail twitched. “Why should I? She has her secrets, so I’ll have mine.”
Hawkfrost plucked at another leaf. “Probably a good idea. It sounds like…” He paused. “Dovepaw—is that her name?”
Ivypaw nodded.
“It sounds like Dovepaw would get jealous and want to learn all your moves.”
Ivypaw unsheathed her claws.
“She’s your littermate,” Hawkfrost pressed. “Not your echo, right?”
“Right!” Ivypaw declared. “Why should I give her the chance to copy me?”
Hawkfrost stretched his hind legs. “No more echoes. Let’s try something new.”
Ivypaw woke up. Her shoulders were stiff. She wriggled them into the soft moss of her nest, wondering if she’d slept awkwardly. Then she remembered: Hawkfrost had worked her hard, until her muscles ached. She sat up, surprised. Wow! What a vivid dream!
Dovepaw was snoring. Curled in her nest, her eyes closed, the gray apprentice looked small and fluffy. Far more like the innocent kit she had been than the knowing apprentice she pretended to be now. With a surge of affection, Ivypaw longed to tell Dovepaw about her dream, just like they used to when they shared a nest in the nursery with Whitewing.
No. Ivypaw pushed away her nostalgia. Dovepaw had a secret. I’m going to have one too. It was probably a far better secret than Dovepaw’s anyway. She was being trained by a StarClan warrior! She was going to be the best warrior ever. She’d be even better than Lionblaze!
“Ivypaw!” Cinderheart’s mew rang through the wall of the den.
Ivypaw crept out into the cold, gray dawn. Blossomfall and Bumblestripe were stretching in their makeshift nests beneath the arching bough of the beech. Cinderheart beckoned them over with her tail.
“You three will be training together today,” she announced.
Blossomfall sat down, yawning. “You want us to train Ivypaw?”
Cinderheart shook her head. “You will be training together.”
“We’re not apprentices!” Bumblestripe shook out his fur, fluffing it against the cold air.
Cinderheart’s gaze flashed to the slope of rocks. Firestar was leaping down into the clearing.
Blossomfall rolled her eyes. “Let me guess,” she grumbled. “A new idea about training.”
Ivypaw could hear Thornclaw’s irritated sigh echoing in her mew. Blossomfall was obviously quoting her denmate.
Firestar halted beside them. “There’s nothing wrong with trying something new,” he meowed.
Blossomfall looked at her paws. “I guess.”