Eclipse

“Awake at last!” Ashfur greeted him. “The prey’s probably grown old and died while we’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then it’ll be easier to catch,” Lionpaw grumbled.

“I know you’re tired,” Ashfur conceded. “But Icepaw is itching to get out into the forest, and I promised Whitewing we’d go with them.”

Lionpaw noticed Icepaw for the first time. The young apprentice was bouncing around the clearing like a newleaf hare, leaping and twisting as she darted at invisible prey. Her prey might have been invisible, but Icepaw, with her sleek white pelt and bright blue eyes, certainly wasn’t. Perhaps that was why Firestar had made Whitewing her mentor. The white she-cat knew what it was like to stand out like snow in greenleaf.

She’d be able to teach Icepaw a few special stalking techniques.

And she clearly needed to learn. As he watched Icepaw darting clumsily about, Lionpaw stifled a purr, remembering how excited he had been when he had started his training.

Whitewing padded across the clearing, one eye on her apprentice. “Can we go now?”

Lionpaw noticed her tail tip twitching. Icepaw was Whitewing’s first apprentice. Was she worried how to manage such a bundle of energy? Or did she think their matching snow-colored pelts would scare away all the prey as soon as they set foot under the trees?

“Where do you want to start?” Ashfur asked.

Whitewing eyed Icepaw thoughtfully as the little white cat hurled herself awkwardly at a pile of leaves, sending them scattering in all directions. “Do you think Icepaw would do better by the Ancient Oak or the Old Thunderpath?”

Lionpaw’s belly rumbled. He gazed at the fresh-kill pile; a plump mouse was lying on top. But the Clan had to be fed before he could eat. It was the first rule apprentices had to learn, and the hardest. “There’s usually more prey around the Oak,” he suggested.

Ignoring Lionpaw, Ashfur dipped his head to Whitewing.

“It’s your decision.”

Lionpaw felt a prickle of annoyance. Why bother waking him up at all? They clearly weren’t interested in his opinion. And neither of them had asked about his journey to the mountains. He stared angrily around the camp. No cat seemed the slightest bit interested in his return. Mousefur was sunning herself outside the elders’ nest. Ferncloud and Sorreltail were sharing a pigeon beneath Highledge, their hunting clearly finished for the day. Leafpool was disappearing into the nursery, holding leaves between her jaws. Weren’t any of them curious about the mountains or his adventure?

“Hey, Lionpaw!” Icepaw called to him. “Am I doing this right?” She was creeping forward in a hunting crouch, her tail lashing.

“Yeah,” Lionpaw mewed absently. Doesn’t anyone care about me?

“You need to keep your tail still, Icepaw,” Ashfur advised.

Lionpaw looked at his mentor in surprise. I thought you weren’t interested in apprentices.

Ashfur met his gaze, eyes narrowed, then turned pointedly back to Icepaw. “If you stir up the leaves, the prey will know you’re coming.” Clearly he thought that Lionpaw should have pointed out Icepaw’s mistake.

Lionpaw’s fur bristled. Why did Ashfur expect him to mentor another cat’s apprentice? That was Whitewing’s duty.

Then, with a flash of remorse, he remembered how grateful he’d been when Stormfur or Graystripe had gently pointed out his mistakes.

He padded over to the younger cat. “I’ll show you what he means.” He crouched beside her. “Keep your back down like this. The flatter you are, the less visible you’ll be.”

“Like this?” Icepaw squashed herself against the ground.

“Exactly.”

Icepaw blinked up at him, her eyes like pools of sky. “Thanks, Lionpaw. I’m very nervous about hunting, actually.”

Lionpaw brushed the tip of his tail over her back. “You’ll be fine,” he promised. “Just copy our mentors, and don’t expect to make a catch on your first try. It took me ages to get it right,” he added. Icepaw nodded, looking very earnest, and Lionpaw gave her ear a lick. Was this how it felt being a mentor? He liked the idea of teaching a young cat everything he knew about hunting and fighting, and watching them grow from a tumbling kit to a strong, quick-pawed warrior.

But what if the prophecy took him on a path away from being a normal warrior, mentoring apprentices and carrying out regular Clan duties? Looking down at Icepaw’s glowing eyes, Lionpaw felt as if he were being asked to give up an entire way of life—and one that suited him very well.

“Can we hunt here?” Icepaw asked again. She’d wanted to hunt in every small clearing they’d passed on their way to the Ancient Oak. Now the great tree towered above them, the ground beneath littered with leaves and acorn cups. At the edge of the glade, ferns clustered together in pools of light filtering through the branches.

Whitewing glanced at Ashfur. “Should we keep going to the lake?” she asked. “There might be prey near the shore.”

Ashfur gazed back at her, but didn’t reply.