Chapter Text
Sandpaw was hunting along the border with RiverClan, her jaws parted, her ears pricked in alertness for the sound of prey. She had already caught a finch, but seeing as it was the middle of leaf-bare, she wanted to catch more for her Clan - that was, if she could.
Her ginger head snapped to the side as she heard bushes rustling, wondering if it was prey, but her heart sank with disappointment as she realized it was a plump, silver she-cat stepping out from the RiverClan side of the border. "What are you doing this close to the border?" Sandpaw immediately challenged, fur bristling.
The unfamiliar molly purred, a mischievous smile on her face. "Keep your fur on," she mewed, "I could ask you the same."
Sandpaw's fur heated up, the warmth of frustration under her thick pelt. "I'm just hunting!" she snapped defensively.
"I know, I know!" The silver she-cat responded. "I'm just teasing you."
"You should know better than teasing a cat from an enemy Clan," Sandpaw hissed, "especially when leaf-bare is as harsh as it is. You'll get yourself shredded."
The silver molly shrugged. "I'm Crookedstar's daughter! He wouldn't let that happen. He'd line his nest with a cat's pelt if they dared to try."
Sandpaw's ears flattened, but she recognized the cat a little more now. "Crookedstar's daughter... Silverpaw, was it?"
Silverpaw nodded, a satisfied smile crossing her soft features. "Silverpaw," she mewed, clearly pleased to be recognized, "and you are...?"
"Sandpaw," the other apprentice replied through gritted teeth, annoyance seering her pelt. Though something about Silverpaw did catch her eye - she wasn't sure what it was.
"Oh! I think I've seen you at Gatherings," Silverpaw meowed, her eyes thoughtful. "You were with Dustpaw, right?"
"Yes, he's my friend." Sandpaw's fur flattened, though she was still on edge. She seemed friendly, but this was still an enemy she-cat.
Silverpaw's gaze grew a little saddened, but she seemed to immediately shake the feelings off. "Well, it was nice meeting you! And hey, you don't need to look like you just saw five foxes charging towards you. I'm not going to hurt you."
Sandpaw's neck fur bristled once more. "Well, excuse me for being a little alarmed when I smell fish stench a little too close to my territory!"
Though Sandpaw attempted to appear intimidating, Silverpaw seemed to be nothing but amused by this. "My fish stench won't be over your border anytime soon," Silverpaw purred, clearly not offended, "I'm not interested in mice and feathers."
"And it's best you don't start taking a liking to it," Sandpaw grumbled.
Silverpaw let out a mrrow of laughter, only making Sandpaw's cheeks flush more... with frustration, she assumed. The flames she felt licking at the insides of her chest were nothing but anger. This apprentice must be really frustrating her.
Silverpaw clearly noticed the look, as it only made the look on her face much more noticeable. "Don't get your tail in a twist," she soothed, "I'm just here to fish. I kind of, y'know, need the river to fish."
"Fine," Sandpaw growled. "I'll go, but if I see so much as your whiskers cross over this border I'll have your pelt!"
Silverpaw just replied with, "You won't see anything," before turning to stand over the water, perfectly still and poised.
Sandpaw looked on for a moment, before briskly moving away, realizing she was staring. I'm just making sure she doesn't cross the border! she defended herself.
As she stalked back into the familiar undergrowth, though, she couldn't keep the pretty RiverClan apprentice out of her thoughts. What is wrong with me? she silently hissed to herself.
She tried to take her mind off the encounter, narrowing her eyes as she spotted a plump thrush fluttering to the ground. I have to make this catch. ThunderClan needs this prey!
She stalked forwards, putting her ginger paws on the ground as lightly as possible. However, just when she was in reach to pounce, a rustling in the bushes startled the bird and it frantically made its escape upwards into the skies. "Fox-dung!" Sandpaw hissed. She suddenly tensed as she remembered the rustling, the frustration of losing her prey momentarily forgotten. It could be a cat... or another piece of prey.
It had better not be that StarClan-forsaken RiverClan apprentice again!
Sandpaw resumed her crouch, narrowing her eyes as she tried to make out whatever was in hiding. She didn't speak, in case it was a prey animal, but was cautious in case it was an enemy cat. As she crept closer, her fur prickled with apprehension. She could be in danger, she did realize, but she refused to run away with her tail between her legs like a scared kit. Suddenly, whatever was in the bushes shifted again, and Sandpaw shot up and began to give chase as she spotted the silhouette of a cat, along with smelling an unfamiliar scent that had been previously masked by the scent of the bush. "Come back!" The ginger she-cat snarled, zigzagging her way through the undergrowth.
As she got closer to her target, she evaluated its appearance. It was ragged and skinny, bones showing through its thin frame. This cat must be either starving, or terribly ill. She was hit by a wave of sympathy, but quickly shook it off. Its still stealing ThunderClan prey!
Due to its condition, Sandpaw caught up with it swiftly, taking a powerful leap and pinning it to the forest floor. "What are you doing on ThunderClan territory?" She demanded.
The feline snarled and writhed underneath her, but she could tell its strengh was rapidly ebbing. "You don't understand!" It cried. "I had to get out of there!"
"Out of where?" Sandpaw demanded, somewhat unnerved but unwilling to let it escape. Besides, her curiosity was piqued by now.
"Out of that... that wretched place!" The gray cat, who Sandpaw realized was a tom by now, spat.
Sandpaw relaxed her grip a bit. "Whatever, just promise to me you'll get your stench out of ThunderClan's land!"
"I will, I'm just trying to get as far away as possible," the tom hissed.
Sandpaw reluctantly stepped back, letting the sickly feline up. "And you'd better not take any of our prey," she snarled.
The tom didn't respond, hacking before stumbling off into the undergrowth, in the direction of the ShadowClan border. Sandpaw stopped for a moment as she wondered what would happen when it got to ShadowClan, but brushed it off. Whatever happens, it's their problem now.
Sandpaw turned, deciding to continue with her hunt, despite not feeling too hopeful about it. That encounter had probably scared off all the prey from here to WindClan. She shook herself out and attempted to continue, but fear lurked in the back of her mind, a hunger stalking its prey: What place was that cat talking about? And why was he so scared of it?
Silverpaw had decided to go back to camp by twilight, carrying two plump trout in her jaws. She was grateful the prey had been plentiful lately, seeing as all the other Clans were struggling. That Sandpaw looked so thin, she thought, I hope she's doing okay.
She had usually thought ThunderClan cats a friendly bunch, but that apprentice had been aggressive. Though, Silverpaw couldn't wonder why. She had been able to see her ribs through her coat, and friendliness doesn't thrive on empty bellies. Her encounter with the other she-cat was forgotten as she dropped her catch and her father, Crookedstar, slipped over to greet her. "Wonderful catch, Silverpaw!" He praised her, giving her affectionate licks behind her ears.
Silverpaw purred, a little embarrassed under all the attention. "Thank you. I'm just glad the prey's been runnning here. I... I talked to a ThunderClan apprentice earlier, at the border. She looked like she was starving."
Crookedstar paused thoughtfully for a moment, then looked down at her gently. "The other Clans are struggling right now," he acknowledged, "but we must'nt get too hung up on that thought. We must feed our own Clan first."
"But our fresh-kill pile is fully stocked!" Silverpaw countered, gesturing over to the overflowing pile. "I think I can spare a bit of energy worrying about others outside of myself."
Crookedstar sighed, sitting down and looking at Silverpaw with an empathetic gaze. "You've always thought differently from other cats," he murmured, "and I know that. It's hard, watching your neighbors go hungry. But what can we do? The other Clans would surely take advantage of us if we started throwing our resources out to any cat who even slightly needs them."
Silverpaw bristled. "That's not what I'm suggesting! It doesn't have to be all the time, but surely we can do something?"
The large tom placed his tail on her back, causing the apprentice to calm a little bit. "I wish we could, dear. But for now, we have to keep to ourselves."
"But-"
"That's final, Silverpaw."
Though her father's tone was firm, his eyes were still gentle. "I'm proud of how considerate you are, but unfortunately, the other Clans don't see things the way you do."
And why should that matter? Silverpaw thought, though she knew saying it aloud would be pointless. Crookedstar had made up his mind.
As her father turned away, returning to his leadership duties, the silver she-cat began to form a plan. Maybe, just maybe, if she met Sandpaw again, she would accept her help? Maybe they could even become friends! Admittedly, the ginger she-cat had been pretty, albeit feisty. That was someone Silverpaw wanted to be around. Yes, technically, cross-clan friendships were frowned upon, but what did that matter anyway? Silverpaw had always found those rules mouse-brained. She selected a perch for herself before padding off to the empty apprentices' den. Who was she supposed to make friends if there was no one her age in her Clan, anyway? It wasn't fair! Was she not meant to have any friends at all because of what the Clan cats expected of her?
As Silverpaw tucked her paws under herself, curling her tail around her nose, she was resolute. She was going to find Sandpaw again.
Silverpaw blearily blinked open her blue eyes, stumbling to her paws as she heard a cacophony outside. Are we being attacked?
Instantly on alert, adrenaline pushing her on, she dashed out of the den, fur bristling, but was confused only to find a patrol speaking in hushed voices to Crookedstar. She pricked her ears, trying to eavesdrop. This seemed important. "Strange cat," Mistyfoot, who had been on the patrol, was meowing.
"Rambling about escaping something," Mosspelt added.
"This seems weird," Crookedstar agreed. "Where did you find them?"
"I don't know - they just... blundered right into our paws. I don't think they even knew it was Clan territory, they were too panicked," Mistyfoot mewed.
Silverpaw's heart lurched. If the cat had been that fearful, something dreadful must've happened, right? She wanted more info, so she sauntered up to the patrol.
"Silverpaw!" Leopardfur spun around and hissed. "Have you been eavesdropping again?"
Silverpaw wasn't too bothered. "How could I not?" she retorted.
Leopardfur growled. "What did I tell you about doing that?" though she didn't say much more. This was serious - a mischievous apprentice was the last of their concern right now.
"I'll order Oakheart to up patrols around where this cat was found," Crookedstar declared. "If this cat was that scared, whatever this threat was could potentially be near our territory. I want our land guarded."
"Until something else happens, there's not much we can do. If the cat is gone, we just have to be on the lookout. Go back to your dens and rest. You need it."
The patrol members' fur flattened as they padded away, but Silverpaw was still curious. Crookedstar, though, had already gone, leaving her alone with the senior warrior.
"You'd best get back to your den," Leopardfur told her. "You're supposed to be on dawn patrol tomorrow, remember?"
"Yes, Leopardfur," Silverpaw dipped her head respectfully.
As she settled back into her nest, reordering her decorative feathers a bit, her mind raced, and she found she had trouble sleeping. She needed answers. When she couldn't take the thoughts swimming through her mind like otters anymore, she carefully got to her paws, treading lightly through the camp until she exited to the dirtplace. Throwing glances from side to side to be sure she wasn't spotted, she briskly made her way into RiverClan territory. The ground beneath her paws was marshy and soggy, and she felt as though she were using all of her strength to simply pull herself forward. She gave a hiss of annoyance, finally scrambling forward onto more solid ground. "StarClan-cursed mud," she growled.
She almost turned around to give herself a quick grooming, then decided against it. It feels disgusting, but the mud will disguise my scent in case I come upon danger... and so that I don't get in trouble.
She traipsed on through the wetlands, the silence around her making the forest feel eerie. Every rustle of the bushes nearly startled her out of her fur, causing her to leap into the air before feeling silly as it turned out to just be frogs. The only sound was the constant rushing of the river, which comforted her. It was familiar, something she had known her entire life. The further away from camp she got, the more unnerved she felt. No one would hear me out here if I screamed.
She shuddered at the thought, then pushed it away, putting on a brave face. I need answers! Even if I don't find anything, at least my mind will rest.
The territory felt strangely lonely, and it being the middle of leaf-bare didn't help. The sky had been dove gray for the past few days, and tonight was no exception. Silverpaw didn't even have the comforting light of the moon and stars to bathe her and guide her. She could only rely on her senses, and the familiarity of her home. However, things looked so different in the dark - she seldom went out after the sun fell, as Crookedstar never appreciated when she did that, so she didn't have much experience walking through the wetlands at night. Especially on a gloomy night such as this. As an overwhelming scent bathed her muzzle, Silverpaw felt her heart sink as she knew she was approaching the ThunderClan border. I didn't mean to get this close to enemy territory. What if there's a night patrol out? I should probably head back.
But something urged her on. She pushed forward, finally emerging onto the riverbank. All was quiet, and still, save for the rushing of the river. Silverpaw let out a sigh of relief. She had half-expected some hostile ThunderClan cat to burst out of the bushes, challenging her. Just as her muscles began to relax, the bushes rustled. A ginger face poked out.
"Silverpaw?"