Fan Fiction

Thrushpelt’s Trust—Chapter 8

“I wish we could switch mentors,” Specklepaw muttered around her squirrel, her glare cutting invisible wounds into the back of Swiftbreeze’s head. 
Thrushpaw tilted his head, puzzled. They’d been apprentices for almost two moons now, but this was the first time he’d heard her voice any concerns about Swiftbreeze. “What do you mean?” he inquired, “She seems nice.” 
Specklepaw shrugged, struggling to keep the squirrel’s tail from dragging on the forest floor. “She is, I guess, but in a fake sort of way. She keeps trying to get me to talk about Harepounce, as if the only thing worth discussing is the fact that I have dead parents. I bet Pinestar put her up to it.” 
He squinted at the tabby and white warrior in front of him, then back at his sister. “She could just be trying to be nice,” he pointed out, but Specklepaw just scowled.
“Well, it’s really annoying,” she muttered, “But Adderfang on the other paw seems pretty sensible.” 
Sensible was not the trait Thrushpaw would have used to summarize Adderfang, but he didn’t object. His mentor could be a little arrogant once in a while, but he was nice when it mattered. “Well, I don’t think we’re allowed to trade,” he said apologetically, blinking at Specklepaw. 
He wondered if Specklepaw had ever talked about Stagleap and Harepounce with Rainfur. Whitepaw mentioned them once in a while, but Specklepaw hardly ever brought them up. Maybe the memories had faded in her mind as well. The only thing Thrushpaw really remembered about Harepounce was the terror and shock of her death. 
“Yeah-” Specklepaw began, but fell silent at the sound of raised voices coming from within the camp. 
Adderfang glanced back at the two of them, then broke into a trot. Thrushpaw couldn’t make out the words, but the voices sounded angry.
“You’re imagining things,” Windflight scoffed as the hunting patrol entered the camp. Thrushpaw felt his pelt go cold as he took in the scene, shooting a nervous glance over at Specklepaw. 
Rainfur’s lips curled back into a fierce snarl as she spat out her reply, her ginger tail cutting through the air like an agitated adder. “You foxheart, how stupid do you think I am?” 
The rest of the camp seemed to be frozen in an uneasy silence, nobody bold enough to step in but all too entranced to turn away. Whitepaw was hovering near the edge of the clearing, looking like a trapped rabbit. 
Rainfur shook her head at Windflight’s silence, her eyes narrowed into thin slits. Thrushpaw had never seen her truly angry before, and she was arguably the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen. “You must think you’re so clever,” she taunted, stepping closer to Windflight, “Sending Dapplepaw to train with Smallear while you go ‘patrolling’.” 
Tawnyspots poked his head out of the warrior’s den across the camp, and froze. Uncertainly, Thrushpaw’s brother crossed the clearing, hovering hesitantly beside Rainfur. “You’re scaring the ‘paws,” he muttered, in a hushed tone that Thrushpaw obviously wasn’t meant to hear. 
“Did you tell her?” Windflight asked, spinning to face his son. His father’s voice was frosty, only his eyes betraying his wild panic. Now, it was Tawnyspot’s turn to be frightened as he glanced between his parents. 
“You knew?” 
Tawnyspots seemed to visibly shrink beneath Rainfur’s gaze. “He asked me not to tell,” he whimpered, sounding very, very small. 
Thrushpaw glanced over at Specklepaw, bewildered. He didn’t understand what they were arguing about, but all the other cats seemed to know. Specklepaw looked back at him, her eyes cold with anger. 
“Maybe you two should go back out hunting,” Adderfang suggested quietly, but Thrushpaw felt rooted to the spot. 
Rainfur turned to Windflight, her face rigid with disgust. “How dare you put him in that position?” she yowled, the fur along her spine rising into spikes. “It’s one thing if you don’t care about me, but did you even think of our kits?”
Windflight took a step back, glancing uneasily at the rest of the cats. “It was a mistake, okay? It wasn’t my idea, and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise.” 
“You filthy little piece of mousedung, your promises mean nothing,” Rainfur hissed, “You’re quick to pin the blame on anyone but you, but this is solely your fault.” 
“Hey, it’s not just my fault,” Windflight objected. He let that hang in the air for the second, looking like he was trying to catch his breath. “If you weren’t so…” 
“So what?” Rainfur challenged, as if she was daring him to say it. “Well, maybe if you were in Windclan like you should be, with the rest of the rabbit brained cowards, we wouldn’t be having this argument.” 
“I don’t have to listen to this,” Windflight hissed, and tried to shove his way past her. 
There was a flash of claws, and Thrushpaw flinched, bumping into Adderfang. They had all moved too fast for him to follow, but somehow Tawnyspots had shoved himself between his quarreling parents and now had a trickle of blood running down his shoulder. Rainfur stared at the scratch, then glanced down at her bloodstained claws. 
“Excuse me,” Sunfall growled, emerging from the crowd, “But that is quite enough.” He looked between Windflight and Rainfur, shaking his head. “I was going to let you two figure this out yourselves, but apparently I can’t trust you to handle this like warriors. One of you, go take a walk, and you can finish the conversation when you’re ready to settle it with words, not claws.” He glanced at Tawnyspots, his fury softening with sympathy. “Do you want me to find Featherwhisker for that?” 
“I’m fine,” Tawnyspots mumbled.
“I’ll go for the walk,” Rainfur snarled, turning her back on Windflight so that she was facing the rest of the clan, “Any of you are welcome to join me.” 
With a nervous glance in the direction of her father, Whitepaw slipped in behind Rainfur as the ginger she cat shoved her way through the crowd, Tawnyspots trailing behind her. Specklepaw shrugged at Rainfur’s demanding glance, then made a dash for the apprentice’s den. 
“Coming?” Rainfur asked Thrushpaw, her voice sharper than any claw. 
“Sure,” Thrushpaw mumbled, drifting over to walk by Tawnyspots as they wandered out of camp. His brother said nothing, but shifted closer, his pelt just brushing Thrushpaw’s. 
Rainfur led them through the forest, the silence crackling with tension as Thrushpaw waited for someone to speak. The birds were singing cheerfully, but Rainfur’s tense shoulders and furious pace chased away any semblance of normalcy. 
“What did you mean about Dad belonging in Windclan?” Whitepaw dared to ask after a few minutes, the silence shattering like thin ice. 
Rainfur slowed to a stop, and sighed. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Windflight’s half-clan. His father’s in Windclan, but he never speaks of it because he’s ashamed.” She cleared her throat, her eyes skating across the three of them before she continued. “I didn’t really mean that though. If he were in Windclan, we never would have met, and then I wouldn’t have you.” 
“I’m sorry Mom,” Tawnyspots mumbled, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. Thrushpaw still didn’t understand what was going on, but he was too afraid to ask. 
“Tawny, you have nothing to apologize for, it’s not your fault,” Rainfur objected, glancing at the wound she had inflicted. “I’m the one that should be sorry, how’s your shoulder?”
“It’s just a scratch, it’s fine.” 
“No, it’s really not fine,” Rainfur muttered, closing her eyes. “I shouldn’t have lost my cool like that, not in front of you. And I absolutely shouldn’t have tried to attack him, no matter how much Windflight deserved it. It’s never okay to fight an argument with claws like that, you guys understand that, right? I haven’t been setting a good example today.” 
Thrushpaw nodded numbly, his eyes sneaking over to the thin trail of drying blood on Tawnyspot’s shoulder. Had she really wanted to hurt Windflight? 
Suddenly, Whitepaw froze, her eyes going wide with terror. “Do you smell that?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. 
Thrushpaw heard them before he smelled them. Moving clumsily through the forest, stomping on twigs and leaves, were three large, black and white shapes.
 They’d been so caught up in escaping the camp that they’d practically walked right into the badgers’ den. 
“Up the trees, now,” Rainfur ordered, her gaze sharpening with focus. Thrushpaw spun to face the nearest oak, trying to find a branch low enough to jump to. 
“C’mon, c’mon,” Tawnyspots urged as Thrushpaw sprang, scrambling for purchase. Tawnyspots leaned over, allowing him to use his shoulder to push himself the rest of the way up. Moments later, Whitepaw joined him, her pelt spiky with fear. 
Tawnyspots jumped up beside him, but the branch bowed dangerously, shaking like a leaf in the wind. “Stay here,” Tawnyspots said, before dropping back down. 
And then the badgers were upon them.