The Raging Storm

“Walk along the edge of the clearing. I’m going to attack you from the side. Keep your balance. Don’t let me knock you off your paws.” It seemed to Twigbranch like an easy lesson. Why did Flypaw look so worried?

“Will you tell me when you’re about to attack?” the striped tabby asked.

Twigbranch blinked. “The whole point of an ambush is surprise.”

“But I’m still learning.”

“This is the best way to learn.” Twigbranch shifted her paws and hoped she was right. Before Flypaw could ask any more questions, she pushed through the bracken surrounding the small clearing and ducked behind the stems. She waited for Flypaw to start walking. But Flypaw was watching Finleap and Snappaw train. They tumbled over the sandy earth. Snappaw struggled free of his mentor and leaped clumsily to his paws. “Let me try again!”

“Flypaw!” Irritably, Twigbranch twitched her tail.

Flypaw snapped her gaze guiltily toward the bracken and began pacing along the edge of the clearing. Keeping low, Twigbranch shadowed her. She was pleased to see Flypaw’s ears pricked and her tail centered. The apprentice was clearly alert. Tensing, Twigbranch prepared to pounce. As she bunched her muscles, a bird gave a warning cry overhead. Flypaw looked up at it just as Twigbranch leaped. Twigbranch slammed into her. With a startled yelp, Flypaw lost her balance and rolled onto the ground.

Twigbranch leaped to her paws. “That was easier than tumbling a sparrow!” She glared down at Flypaw, not giving her a chance to answer. “You knew I was going to ambush you! Your legs should have been braced for the attack!”

“The bird distracted me!” Indignantly, Flypaw scrambled to her paws.

“You live in a forest! If you get distracted every time you hear a bird, you’re never going to learn how to fight, or hunt!” Twigbranch shook out her pelt crossly. Flypaw was so unfocused! How would she teach her anything? While Snappaw, Spotpaw, and the others were earning their warrior names, she’d still be trying to teach Flypaw how to stalk butterflies! I’ll look like the worst mentor ever.

“Let’s try it again,” Flypaw mewed. “I’ll be ready next time.”

“Try saying that to a ShadowClan patrol when they steal your prey.” Twigbranch pushed her way through the bracken once more and waited for Flypaw to start pacing. “Keep low, and push your weight through your paws as you walk,” she called through the stems.

Flypaw dropped her belly and padded awkwardly around the clearing. Twigbranch sighed. She looks like a duck. Shadowing her, she followed her apprentice for a few tail-lengths, then leaped. Exploding from the bracken, she slammed into Flypaw’s flank. Flypaw shrieked with surprise, threw her forepaws into the air, and twisted before losing her balance and thumping onto the earth.

Twigbranch stared at her. “That was the worst defensive move I’ve ever seen.”

Flypaw found her paws and shook the dust from her fur. Her eyes were round. “I didn’t expect you to hit me so hard.”

“I was ambushing you!” Twigbranch snapped. “This isn’t the nursery. You’re not play-fighting now.”

Flypaw glared at her. “You want

me to fail,” she accused. “That’s why you’re making it so hard. How am I meant to know what to do if you just keep knocking me off my paws?”

Twigbranch pressed back her frustration and tried to remember what it had been like when she’d first started training. It seemed such a long time ago. “Okay.” Forcing her mew to be gentle, she looked at Flypaw. “Place your paws like this.” Reaching out, she adjusted each of Flypaw’s legs until the young tabby was standing square and firm. “Now sink down into your pads, as though you’re as heavy as a badger.” She watched as Flypaw flexed, finding strength in her stance. “This time, I won’t come out of the bracken. You’ll see me leap. Just try to keep your balance.”

Flypaw nodded, her eyes dark with concentration.

At least she’s trying. Twigbranch took a few steps back, then leaped at Flypaw’s flank. It was a soft attack, but firm, and she pushed hard against Flypaw, relieved to feel resistance as she threw her weight against the young she-cat. Flypaw staggered, but kept low and didn’t fall.

Twigbranch dropped lightly back onto all fours. “Not bad,” she conceded. “Considering you knew the attack was coming. I’m not sure there’s enough strength in your legs to withstand a surprise attack, but we can work on that.”

“I thought she did well.” Finleap’s mew took Twigbranch by surprise. The brown tom padded toward them, Snappaw bouncing at his side. “She has a firm stance. And she’s smaller than you. But she still managed to stay on her paws.”

Twigbranch frowned at him. “I’m not sure she deserves that much praise,” she cautioned. “She’s got a lot to learn.”