Four pairs of bright blue eyes followed Leopardpaw's every movement around the den. The apprentice's shoulders ached as she stretched upwards and maneuvered a fresh branch into the thick roof of the nursery. She could sense Gingerstorm's kits watching her curiously, but she was in no mood to entertain them. With a sharp crack, the branch snapped and fell to the ground.

     Huffing angrily, the spotted she-cat came down from her hind legs and closed her jaws around one of the several spare sticks she had dragged in here for repairs. The first snow of leaf-bare had already melted the day before, weighing down the dry, fragile bush dens all around camp and leaking through into her Clanmates' nests. The nursery had gotten the worst of it, filled with cold, soggy puddles under paw.

     "You really don't have to do all these repairs. I can have Stonedusk work on it for me." Gingerstorm's wary blue eyes also followed Leopardpaw's every movement as the large she-cat lay at the other end of the den, curled tightly around the moon-old bundles of fur poking out of the nest in curiosity. The red-furred queen had become tense and mistrustful ever since the incident with Weedpaw, Longpaw, and Sandstreak. Her words were intended to come out nicely, but Leopardpaw's ears detected a suspicious undertone. The queen simply wanted her gone.

     I don't want to be here any more than you want me here, the apprentice thought grimly to herself. Leopardpaw remembered the all the nights that Gingerstorm had allowed her and Mousepaw to sleep in her nest when Sandstreak ignored them, but now that sympathy was gone. And it was Sandstreak's fault.

     She gritted her fangs as she shoved the tree branch into the knotted ceiling. "I... was... ordered... to do this..." she mumbled through the wood, squinting her amber eyes as shreds of bark drifted down to her face.

     Finally, after the third try, the branch stuck. Leopardpaw quickly swept up the mess and left the den, breathing a sigh of relief to finally be away from Gingerstorm's scrutinizing gaze. The queen's more pleasant mate, Stonedusk, sat guard just outside of the nursery as Leopardpaw emerged, his pelt fluffed out in the chilly air. The gray tabby flashed a sympathetic look at Leopardpaw when he noticed her bristling fur.

     "Sorry about the queen," he murmured, quietly enough for his mate not to hear. "She's been high-strung with all that's been going on. It's nothing to do with you; she acts that way toward everyone now... Even me, at times!" His meow rang with humor, but his amber eyes were shadowed with exhaustion.

     Leopardpaw dipped her head in a silent thanks and padded off. A weight seemed to lift off her back with Stonedusk's kind words. She may garner the unfriendly stares of many Clanmates, but there were a few who still treated her normally. She would not take that for granted.

     The apprentice was about halfway to the camp's exit when she noticed three cats sitting near the High Ledge: Darkstar, Yellowcloud, and Weedpaw. The large, black-furred tom was nodding politely as he faced the mentor and his apprentice, while Yellowcloud yapped on about something. Leopardpaw's despicable brother sat proudly before the Clan leader, his black and white shoulders squared.

     Her russet spotted pelt prickled in curiosity. Trying to not draw attention to herself, Leopardpaw padded quickly toward the thorn tunnel leading out of camp. She stopped just inside of it turning back and straining her ears to listen.

     Yellowcloud's prideful voice reached her ears. "... difficult to train in this blasted weather, but he pleasantly surprised me!" The stout golden tom snorted in disbelief at his own words. "He catches on to battle moves mighty quick. Certainly quicker than any six-moon old cat I've ever seen."

     Then Darkstar's deep voice came next, sounding truly pleased. "Congratulations on your progress, Weedpaw. And thanks to you, Yellowcloud, for taking on this remarkable apprentice. It seems I have chosen a good match, and I am looking forward to hearing more about your training. I'm glad this Clan has such a promising outlook for our future warriors."

     Leopardpaw felt her heart sink in her chest. Are you happy about the match you made with me and Squirrelheart? she thought bitterly. Darkstar hadn't spoken to her since her apprentice ceremony, because Leopardpaw had been so busy with her endless chores of the past five days. While her littermates had been out training in the territory, she had been stuck in camp doing mindless repairs in just about every den: reinforcing walls, collecting moss, replacing stinking bedding. Squirrelheart only ever spoke to her at dawn, when he ordered her to do another clean-up. Then he was off on his own day, patrolling the territory and hunting with his mate. In Leopardpaw's mind, a mentor is supposed to actually spend time with their apprentice. And possibly not be a total fox-heart.

     Darkstar's next statement made her spotted fur bristle. "You know, Weedpaw," he murmured playfully, "the quicker you pick up on these skills, the quicker you will be made a warrior."

     Leopardpaw rolled her amber eyes. Oh, please! It's been five sunrises! You are barely out of the nursery! She could imagine the satisfied smirk on Weedpaw's face, and it made her stomach churn with jealousy.

     As Leopardpaw crouched in the shade of the thorn tunnel, ears pricked and blood boiling, the sound of a throat clearing came from behind her. She jumped and whipped around, the warmth of embarrassment flooding through her face as her amber eyes meet another pair, filled with a quick, bright malice.

     "What are you doing?" Squirrelheart asked accusingly. The brown tabby was standing in the way of the forest, narrowing his piercing eyes at her.

     Leopardpaw gulped and dropped the branches from her jaws. She hadn't realized how tightly she was biting down until she felt the ache of her fangs upon release. "I... uh, was just taking these sticks to the dirt place, because I finished patching up the nursery..." She swished her tail feebly toward the pile of branches at her paws.

     Squirrelheart raked his gaze over her. "Good," he responded, although nothing in his voice sounded satisfied. "Because I am going to teach you to hunt today."

     Leopardpaw's heart skipped a beat. "Really?" she quipped, standing up straighter. After five days of mind-numbing chores, she was finally going to leave camp to train! Quickly, however, the joy was accompanied by a warm glow of anger deep down in her belly. Squirrelheart was the reason she had to wait so long, the reason that her brothers were advancing quickly while she was stuck scrubbing dens clean.

     "Throw out those branches and meet me outside the thorn tunnel," Squirrelheart ordered, turning around and padding back out to the forest.

     Leopardpaw gulped down her frustration, willing her spotted pelt to lie flat. She had to take Mousepaw's advice or at least try it. She would be a polite apprentice around Squirrelheart, as difficult as that may be.

     As the she-cat followed Squirrelheart deep into the forest, her excitement drowned out her anger. She had only been outside ThunderClan's rocky camp a few times, and they were all under the cover of darkness. The forested territory in the daytime was stunning, and the apprentice could not keep her amber eyes off the trees stretching far above, almost black against the blue sky. The branches stretched out like spiderwebs, and she couldn't fathom how some of her Clanmates hunted so far above the forest floor. They were bare of leaves, each branch glistening blindly in the sunlight as snow melted off of them. A cold droplet fell from far above, plopping right on Leopardpaw's nose. She quickly shook her head and bounded after her mentor, who was drawing further up the path. Her paws were freezing from the snowy slush covering the forest floor, but the excitement pumping through her veins kept her warm.

     The tabby tom turned his head slightly to peer at her. "Keep up," he growled gruffly.

     Once again, that fiery anger shot up Leopardpaw's chest, burning on the tip of her tongue. Her amber eyes followed Squirrelheart's swishing tail ahead of her like a piece of prey, side-to-side.

     Squirrelheart suddenly stopped, eyeing the territory around him. They had arrived to a sort of clearing, scraggly bramble bushes encircling the bare ground. A large, ugly gnarled tree overshadowed it. The snow did not glisten off of its dark branches. Leopardpaw bristled as she realized where they were.

     Her mentor must have noticed her staring at the tree, and he glanced at it as well. "That's the Twisted Sycamore. Once, it marked the halfway point toward the ShadowClan border. Now, it is the border," he explained in a low voice, giving Leopardpaw a disdainful look. "But I am sure you are aware of that."

     Leopardpaw gulped as guilt washed over her. At the same time, the sharp scent of ShadowClan drifted into her nose, triggering a wave of painful memories. A painful throbbing threatened to arise in her chest, but the she-cat quickly suppressed it and turned to face Squirrelheart. She would not think of those times from her kithood. Not right now, at least. It was time to prove herself.

     Squirrelheart began to circle his apprentice in the clearing. He said nothing, but his penetrating amber eyes said enough. He was judging her. "Show me your best hunting crouch," he commanded.

     Leopardpaw obliged, lowering her body close to the snowy ground. She breathed in the chilly air shakily, trying her best to remain still. The trees beyond the clearing seemed to beckon her. She could only imagine all the prey creatures that scurried beneath them.

     Squirrelheart curled his lip. "You call that a hunting crouch?" he sneered, stepping in front of her. "You couldn't sneak up on a blade of grass like that!"

     Leopardpaw felt her ears burn, but the embarrassment quickly lent itself to anger. She drew herself up to her full height, locking eyes with her mentor. Two sets of fiery amber glares, facing off. "Then what am I doing wrong?" she snapped.

     Squirrelheart narrowed his eyes. "Did I tell you to stand back up? Back into your hunting crouch."

     For a heartbeat, Leopardpaw was tempted to refuse. She wasn't a mouse-brain. The she-cat knew that this was all just a show of power, a game to put her in her place. Huffing out through her nose, she slowly lowered back down to the ground, keeping her eyes locked with her mentor's.

     Once again, the infuriating brown tomcat began circling her. "Keep your forepaws wider apart. Your hind legs are drawn too far under your belly. Tail needs to be lower. Stretch out your neck farther."

     Leopardpaw scrambled to fix her stance, but each slight change made her more uncomfortable. With her limbs newly positioned, her underside felt strained trying to stay above the ground. Her neck was on fire, and even her stupid tail was cramping up.

     Squirrelheart nodded in satisfaction, perhaps the first time he had ever done so toward her. "Much better."

     The spotted she-cat shot her mentor an incredulous look. "How in StarClan's name could this possibly be better?" she protested through gritted teeth. "I can hardly stand in this position for more than a few heartbeats, let alone walk or pounce!"

     "Then you will have to practice," Squirrelheart said without a hint of sympathy, turning away with a swish of his tail. "Your legs are short, so it is more difficult to achieve the correct hunting crouch."

     Leopardpaw glanced down at her paws, taking in her height. Weedpaw and Longpaw were taller than her; she was sure of that. Had Mousepaw also surpassed her in height recently? She had not thought about it in a long time. The thought troubled her.

     Squirrelheart swished his bushy tail impatiently. "Enough dallying. Now, you will try your hunting crouch for real," he decided. He stepped toward another trail opening in the brush and glanced back at her. "Follow me, quietly. Don't drag your paws," he growled.

     Leopardpaw flicked her ears back indignantly. "I don't drag my paws," she muttered angrily under her breath. Anyhow, she took extra care to make sure her paws landed lightly on the wet forest floor.

     She followed her mentor through the maze of undergrowth, still thick and prickly even in the descending leaf bare. The sunlight filtered through the bare branches above, glistening over the tom's dark brown fur and his apprentice's narrow spotted back as they slithered along the ground. The she-cat kept her ears pricked, amber eyes wide and searching among the layers of brown surrounding her. Every shiny drop of water caught her attention. She inhaled deeply but could only detect the scent of wet wood. Where is all the prey?

     Squirrelheart suddenly halted and silently swished his tail, signaling for Leopardpaw to flank him. Heartbeat quickening, Leopardpaw slunk forward. She scanned the brush for any signs of life while her mentor watched her with his scrutinizing gaze. The she-cat almost missed it: a very quick, brown shift beneath a shrub. A tiny field mouse hopped into view, nose and whiskers twitching as it sniffed for danger.

     Knowing she only had a few heartbeats before being detected, Leopardpaw quickly sank into a hunting crouch. She remembered that Squirrelheart was observing with a glare, and his instructions ran across her mind. Leopardpaw narrowed her eyes. I have to do this my own way, she thought, easing into a more comfortable stance. She could practically feel the radiation of her mentor's indignation, but at this moment, it was unimportant to her.

     The spotted she-cat locked her eyes on the mouse and slowly slunk closer, keeping low to the ground and close to the shadows. An instinctive thrill was rising in her chest, and her mouth watered as the scent of the mouse grew stronger. Just a few more steps...

     Suddenly, the mouse straightened up, beady black eyes wide in alarm. Leopardpaw gasped and in a panic, leapt.

     Her forepaws just nearly caught the tail of the mouse, but it was already darting away. She spotted she-cat stood up and hissed in frustration. She shook the mud off of her paws from her rough landing while a shadow fell over her.

     A feeling of dread settled in Leopardpaw's belly as Squirrelheart opened his jaws in a hiss. "You have failed because you disobeyed me," he said icily, turning to walk away.

     Leopardpaw pinned her ears back. "No, I missed the kill because the mouse noticed me too soon. That did not have anything to do with my crouch."

     Squirrelheart rounded on her with a snarl. "It had everything to do with your lousy crouch! If you had a better stance, you wouldn't have misjudged the pounce."

     Leopardpaw could tell that her mentor's patience with her was wearing thin. So much for a first hunt together, she thought miserably.

     Squirrelheart whipped back around and stalked off into the undergrowth. "You will obey my instructions if you wish to learn anything. I will not waste my time with an insolent apprentice who refuses to listen. We are done for the day," he grumbled over his shoulder.

     Leopardpaw's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? I don't get another try?" she meowed incredulously. Surely other mentors let their apprentices have more than one shot during their first hunting lesson? "This is fox-dung," she muttered a bit too loudly.

     Squirrelheart paused and looked back, his amber eyes cold. "Since you think that, you can stay in camp for the next quarter moon. You can repeat the chores you have done so far. Then maybe you'll be ready to give training another try," he said with a sneer.

     A protest rose in Leopardpaw's throat, but she forced herself to hold her tongue. Her paws were heavy with disappointment. Glancing in the direction of the border, she couldn't help but wonder if she would've received a better mentor in ShadowClan. Fixing her cold glare on Squirrelheart's backside, she silently followed him back to camp, paws dragging through the slush.

...

     Over a shared mouse, much larger than the one she failed to catch today, Leopardpaw voiced her complaints to her brother once again. The light of day was quickly fading, and the stone hollow was sparse, warriors beginning to retire to their dens to brace themselves for the cold night ahead. Squirrelheart had disappeared for the rest of the day, doing StarClan knows what.

     "He's absolutely awful, Mousepaw!" she groaned, laying her head on her paws. Her appetite was dwindling. Leopardpaw had replayed the failed hunt in her head over and over again. "He won't let me hunt unless I do it exactly his way, which is downright painful. And if I try to speak my mind, I get in trouble!"

     As she waited for the black tom to respond, Fogpaw, Blossompaw, and Weedpaw all slid through the thorn tunnel, conversing loudly. Leopardpaw caught just a snippet of Fogpaw meowing to Weedpaw, "Even I wasn't that good at fighting when I was your age..." Coming from the large, fluffy gray tom, the best and most arrogant apprentice in ThunderClan, a compliment meant a great deal. Leopardpaw rolled her amber eyes as the trio purred in laughter as they made their way to the apprentice den.

     Mousepaw calmly swallowed a piece of mouse, gazing thoughtfully up at the twilight sky. "Well, he is the warrior in this situation. Maybe you should listen to him."

     Leopardpaw scoffed, shooting him a dark look. "He was trying to make me do this impossible hunting crouch. There was no way I was actually going to do it!" She curled her lip in disgust. "Being apprenticed to Squirrelheart is the worst."

     Mousepaw sighed and turned to look at her, his green eyes unreadable. "There's no need to be so negative, Leopardpaw. Do you remember how we longed to be apprentices, back when we were young kits? We waited forever to get out of the nursery and away from Sandstreak. Now, we have that, but you have made things difficult with your mentor because he is not the one you wanted, right?"

     Leopardpaw stood up, stung by Mousepaw's words. "You don't understand. Squirrelheart causes as much trouble for me as Sandstreak did. He'll never let me train, and there's nothing I can do about it." Giving the black tom one last indignant huff, she turned and padded toward the apprentices' den.

     Mousepaw could never understand. He's becoming a good hunter already, and he's practically best friends with his mentor, she thought bitterly.

     A small part of Leopardpaw wondered if what her brother said was true. Was she merely being difficult because her apprenticeship isn't exactly what she had hoped for?

      Leopardpaw flicked her ears back angrily as she ducked into the shadows of the den. No, Mousepaw was wrong. Her mentor was a nightmare, and there was no positive side to this. All she had wanted since kithood was to train to be the fiercest warrior, and now, as an apprentice, she wasn't even permitted to do that. How would she ever earn back her place in ThunderClan if she was a burden for the rest of her life?

      The spotted she-cat crept to the outer edges of the den, careful to avoid the larger apprentices snoozing in the warmer center. After a moment's hesitation, she nosed her nest a short distance away from Mousepaw's. Then she curled up and closed her eyes, the cold just beginning to seep beneath her pelt for the night.