The next half moon seemed to fly by in a rush of flurrying snow and cold wind. Leopardpaw mindlessly worked on chores every single day from the moment the sun rose to the moment it set. It bored her out of her mind, especially seeing her brothers grow more lean and muscled while she was plucking ticks off of the elders rumps. Most nights there was not enough fresh-kill to go around, and, being dead last of the eating order, Leopardpaw often went to sleep with a growling stomach. However, she did have something to look forward to now.

Almost every dusk, she waited until the skylight faded to black, and then she slipped out of camp. Even if her paws and haunches ached from working on chores all day, she found them taking her to the ShadowClan border every night. And almost every time, Lizardpaw was waiting for her in the shadows. The few nights that he did not show up, she was left with a strange, achy feeling in her chest she could not shake.

At first, their meetings consisted of Leopardpaw complaining about her boring day, but eventually she yearned to hear about Lizardpaw's life as well. She wondered how ShadowClan was faring this leaf-bare, the snow clinging their dark green pines and bare forest floor. It turns out they were struggling almost as much as ThunderClan, but the warriors were working hard together to keep everyone safe and fed. Lizardpaw admitted this proudly.

Some nights, they would simply lay on the forest floor, staring up the sky streaked with black tree branches and stars, and they would tell each other all the stories of each one's lives. The borderline cut between them, an invisible barrier that could not be crossed. However, Leopardpaw became less and less aware of it as time passed. Rather than a landmark to shy away from, it became enticing to her. The sharp scent of evergreens made her whiskers twitch joyfully.

Leopardpaw learned from Lizardpaw that Starlingheart, Marshwatcher, and Swiftsong were all growing into well-respected warriors, essential to providing for ShadowClan in these tough times. Blackpaw was still pining to become a warrior too, but he still had a ways to go. She grimaced as Lizardpaw told her that Rowanpaw had been apprenticed to Flowerstar herself.

"Poor Rowanpaw," she mewed, staring up at Silverpelt in the darkness.

Lizardpaw's long whiskers twitched. "Don't feel bad. She actually loves it a lot. Flowerstar is the best fighter in ShadowClan, and she is teaching Rowanpaw everything she knows. She'll be able to kick my tail in no time!"

A curious thought popped into Leopardpaw's mind, and she turned to face her friend, meeting his green eyes. "Who is your mentor? I've never heard you mention it."

The bright light in Lizardpaw's eyes dimmed. "Well, my mentor is Wolfsong. I didn't want to tell you because I know how scared you are of him..."

Leopardpaw's fur bristled. "I'm not scared," she retorted, but her blood turned to ice all the same. Poor Lizardpaw.

Lizardpaw had shot her a disbelieving look but didn't press the issue. For a few long heartbeats, they laid in silence underneath the glimmering stars.

"What does Wolfsong think when he sends you to hunt for hours and you bring back nothing?" Leopardpaw inquired. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of the cruel white tom catching them like this.

"Who says I bring back nothing?" Lizardpaw retorted, his lip curled smugly as she stared at her. "I'll have you know, I'm the best hunter out of all the apprentices."

Leopardpaw rolled her eyes at his arrogance, but inwardly she glowed with admiration and jealousy. "Really?" she questioned. "You can keep your mouth shut long enough to sneak up on your prey?"

Lizardpaw smirked at her. "Does your prey stand still when you drag your paws all the way up to it?"

"I do not drag my paws!" she protested. Ears burning, Leopardpaw had the sudden urge to reach over and cuff him playfully. She caught herself before crossing the border and merely glared at him. The tom only stared back at her with glimmering green eyes.

Now, a few days later, Leopardpaw found herself wishing she back back in that moment as she trailed a hunting patrol consisting of Squirrelheart and his tall mate, Maplefur. The two warriors walked side by side, pelts brushing and tails swishing in tandem. It made her stomach churn uneasily.

The apprentice still could not believe that Squirrelheart had somehow acquired a mate, let alone the long-legged, beautiful, kind, gray and white she-cat that strode gracefully alongside him. She was at least a head taller than he was. Leopardpaw did not know Maplefur very well, but she was known for her graceful hunting skills among ThunderClan.

The trio padded into the clearing overshadowed by the Twisted Sycamore. The air was frigid, their breaths coming out in white clouds. Leopardpaw found her gaze traveling up the crooked trunk and branches of the large dead tree. She had passed by the landmark many times in the darkness to meet Lizardpaw. In the light, it appeared even larger and darker, more imposing.

Squirrelheart turned to face the two she-cats, his amber gaze hardening as it fell on his apprentice. "I know you think your wisdom and hunting skills outmatch all of us, Leopardpaw, but today you will do exactly as I say."

Leopardpaw bristled. "I never said that," she retorted.

Squirrelheart ignored her comment. "You will stay directly behind me and watch me hunt..." he began, to which Leopardpaw again opened her jaws to protest.

Maplefur cut him off with a swish of her long tail, stepping forward between them. "Why don't you let me take her on today?" she offered gently to her mate. "See what I can show her? Hunting is my thing, you know." A grin curled her lip.

Leopardpaw pricked her ears in interest.

Squirrelheart's scowl conveyed his disapproval, but when Maplefur gave him a pointed look, his amber eyes fell downward. "Very well," he meowed begrudgingly. "Stay in the area, and meet back in this clearing by sun high. Watch the ShadowClan border." His gaze flitted between Maplefur and Leopardpaw, shooting once last warning look at his apprentice. Then he turned and disappeared into the gnarled undergrowth.

"Come along," Maplefur meowed with a swish of her tail, moving in the opposite direction. Leopardpaw curiously padded after her.

As the two she-cats followed a trail weaving through the woods, Leopardpaw flanked the tall warrior. Maplefur gave her a sympathetic sideways glance. "I figured you might benefit from a little less pressure from Squirrelheart," she admitted quietly, ears turning back. "Hunting is natural to cats; too much overthinking will do you no good."

Leopardpaw felt a rush of gratitude for the warrior and she nodded her thanks. Her nose twitched as it picked up a rather unpleasant scent, and she glanced toward Maplefur's fore leg. A cut stretched over the back, clearly swollen and oozing a pale liquid.

Leopardpaw flicked her ears back in worry. "That cut on your leg, it's infected," she meowed.

Maplefur subtly winced as she took another step. "I know," she murmured solemnly.

The apprentice lashed her tail uneasily. Firetail had always made a big fuss about infected wounds and the danger of them. Even the tiny wound from a thorn could kill a full-grown warrior if not treated. "You should go see Snowheart soon. You will need chervil to draw out the infection," Leopardpaw suggested.

Maplefur gave the younger she-cat a grim look and continued trudging ahead. "It would be a miracle if Snowheart even knew what that was. Last time I visited the medicine den, she told me could do nothing else for me. Squirrelheart tries to lick the wound clean for me each night, but it's always worse by morning..."

Leopardpaw lowered her gaze. The predicament with Snowheart made her uneasy. How many warriors had the medicine cat turned away only because she did not know how to heal them? Moreover, Maplefur had just brought up an even more interesting thought. Unable to hold her tongue, she blurted out incredulously, "What do you see in him?"

Maplefur purred in laughter as they padded along. A faraway look came over her silver eyes. "Well, I suppose what drew me in were his humor and his resilience in the face of everything. We grew up together, and I feel for what he went through."

Leopardpaw's whiskers twitched in disbelief. Resilience? What could Squirrelheart have possibly gone through in the past that required resilience?

Maplefur gave the apprentice a sly sideways glance, her whiskers twitching. "You actually remind me a lot of him as a younger cat." Leopardpaw flicked her ears back uneasily. Before she could ask, the warrior continued on. "Sharp-tongued, yet strong-willed and eager to prove yourself."

Leopardpaw was speechless for a few heartbeats. It deeply disturbed her that Squirrelheart was similar to her in any capacity. She opened her jaws to contest Maplefur, but in the same heartbeat, the warrior lifted her long tail to signal a stop.

The gray and white she-cat lifted her nose elegantly and sniffed the air. "Chipmunk," she breathed, her sharp eyes zeroing in on the forest beyond. Then, her ear twitched the other way, and her head snapped in a different direction.

Leopardpaw sensed the new sound too, the faint scuttling and enticing scent of a mouse.

Maplefur glanced back at her, silver eyes alight. "I'll take the chipmunk, and you can take the mouse. I won't hover over you," she whispered with a knowing wink.

Leopardpaw shot her a look of relief, and the warrior leapt silently into the undergrowth. The apprentice turned the other way, but didn't dare move as quickly as the older she-cat did. The short spotted she-cat carefully picked her way around the prickly bramble bush blocking her path.

Her amber eyes widened as they focused on the tiny creature, nosing around a pile of dead leaves beneath an oak tree, searching for his own meal.

Leopardpaw licked her jaws as its delicious scent filled her nostrils. Instinct flooded her veins and she melted into a hunting crouch, using the brush as a cover. For a brief moment, the memory of her first disastrous hunt with Squirrelheart flashed through her mind, but the she-cat shook it off and narrowed her gaze at her prey.

Leopardpaw took tiny steps closer while the mouse scampered about between a pair of roots, skinny tail sticking up in the air. She crept forward until she was certain she was close enough to pounce, bunched up her hindquarters, and sprang.

Her elation as she soared through the air vanished as she realized her outstretched claws were coming down too short of her mark.

Her paws clamped down on dirt, and the mouse squeaked in alarm and darted toward a burrow beneath the tree.

With a frustrated yowl, Leopardaw threw herself at the dashing creature. Her flailing forepaw managed to knock it down. Dazed for only a heartbeat, the she-cat had enough time to slam her paws on top the little mouse again and sink her fangs into its back. It squealed and then ceased to struggle.

Heart racing and fur ruffled, the she-cat rose to her paws. As the adrenaline drained out of her, a strange glow of pride replaced it. Although small and measly, the stiff mouse that lay before her was her first kill ever. The mouth-watering taste of fresh prey was better than she could have imagined, but although her stomach rumbled, Leopardpaw knew it was not her turn to eat yet. She quickly dug a shallow hole in the frozen ground and left the mouse there.

Practically strutting, Leopardpaw headed back to the meeting place. Head held high in self-righteousness, she couldn't wait to tell Squirrelheart that she had caught a mouse without his help. She froze at a loud rustling a few tail-lengths away.

A mouth-watering scent flooded her jaws again as two fluffy squirrels dashed into view, chasing each other up and around tree trunk. Leopardpaw's heart skipped a beat and her paws tingled with anticipation. She sunk low to the ground, her eyes locked on the lively critters.

She could only imagine the look on Squirrelheart's face if she managed to bring back several pieces of fresh-kill, especially in the middle of the frigid leaf-bare season. In fact, all of ThunderClan would be impressed that an apprentice brought back so much prey.

Images of admiration filling her head, she she-cat stalked closer to the trunk of the tree. She hadn't the slightest idea of how to hunt the fast-moving, tree-climbing squirrels, but Maplefur had told her that hunting was innate. Leopardpaw felt a surge of confidence and crept even closer to the tree.

Too preoccupied with each other to notice the spotted predator lurking at the base of the tree trunk, the squirrels chattered indignantly at each other, bushy red tails twitching. Leopardpaw waited with bated breath, looking for the perfect moment to attack.

Almost immediately, the pair scurried downward, and Leopardpaw tensed and sprang upwards.

Her claws broke into the bark, splintering it off. She had landed squarely between the two squirrels and, quick as a flash, one bolted upwards and the other down to the forest floor.

Unwilling to give up her chase, Leopardpaw gritted her teeth and painfully ripped her claws from the bark. If I could at least kill one... Scrambling back down the trunk, hind-end first, she small she-cat landed quite clumsily on the ground and spotted a bushy tail rapidly receding in the distance. Without a moment's hesitation, she gave chase.

Leopardpaw crashed through the undergrowth, willing her paws to move faster. The bushes blurred around her, her eyes focused only on that fluffy tail.

Just as she was gaining on it, the little infuriating creature made a beeline for the next tree and practically flew up the trunk.

Leopardpaw stumbled to a halt, her sides heaving. With blazing amber eyes, she watched the squirrel leisurely make his way up the cedar tree. He perched on one of the branches, looking down at her with a triumphant twitch of his tail.

The apprentice scowled up at him, but knew she did not have the stamina nor skill to give chase up the tree. Nevertheless, she glared at it and and bared her teeth. "You rotten piece of--"

Before Leopardpaw could finished cursing her prey, a force bowled into her side that knocked the wind out of her. The sky and ground flipped as she rolled, gasping for breath. Two icy blue eyes met her own, along with teeth bared against her throat.

Leopardpaw's heart dropped as the sharp scent of ShadowClan washed over her.

"You'll pay for stealing our prey, ThunderClan scum," the blue-furred she-cat hissed menacingly. Leopardpaw vaguely remembered her name being Iceberry. She did not know the she-cat well, but well enough to understand she was in deep, deep fox-dung.

The spotted apprentice yowled for help through the icy air and squirmed, but the vicious ShadowClan she-cat had her pinned firmly. Leopardpaw's cries sharpened as her attacker sunk her claws deep into her shoulders. Fear fluttered in her chest. Is this how I die? she wondered in a blooming panic.

Another gray and white blur flew past in the corner of Leopardpaw's eye, and Iceberry was knocked off of her. She heard the two bodies thump to the ground with a sickening crack. Leopardpaw sprang to her paws, pelt bristling eerily.

Her heart dropped through her chest as the dust settled and Maplefur's blank silver eyes stared back at her. Leopardpaw knew that glazed look of death all too well, but her mind refused to accept it. No, no, no... not Maplefur...

The gray ShadowClan she-cat looked at what she had done with wide blue eyes, and then turned and bounded off into her territory.

Leopardpaw stood there, staring at the lithe body of Maplefur, neck twisted at an unnatural angle. The apprentice's paws were frozen to the ground, and her head spun. She hoped against hope that this was all just a terrible dream. The warmth of her own blood seeped from her wounds and into her fur, but the pain was a dull, faraway throb.

Squirrelheart crashed through the thickets, grumbling and cursing. "Maplefur? Leopardpaw? What in the name of--" His indolent voice died off as his amber eyes fell on the gray and white form resting the ground. "Maplefur?" he mewed quietly.

Leopardpaw couldn't bear to watch. "I-I'll run back to camp for help," she stuttered. It did not seem as though her mentor acknowledged her. She turned and ran.

Noticing the shifting of pungent scents as she bounded though the forest, Leopardpaw realized with a cold shiver that she had unknowingly crossed ShadowClan's border while in pursuit of the squirrel. The ensuing panic began to bubble up in her chest. This is my fault... All my fault...

The race back to the stone hollow felt like moons. Leopardpaw's lungs were on fire, but she refused to let herself slow. Pain shot through the wounds in her shoulders with every bound. She burst through the stone hollow, looking crazed and earning a few stares from her Clanmates. Darkstar was lying across the High Ledge, but raised his dark head at her boisterous entrance. His green eyes flashed at seeing the dark red stains on her spotted pelt. The large black tom leapt down from his perch, striding purposefully toward her. "What happened?" he said in a low, grim tone.

Leopardpaw hadn't spoken to her leader since he had snapped at her a half moon ago, holding a bitter grudge, but all of that seemed so trivial now.

"ShadowClan..." she heaved, trying to catch her breath. "Maplefur..." More cats were gathering to see what the commotion was, their fur bristling at the mention of the other clan.

Darkstar didn't wait for her to finish. He turned to Dawnleaf, the deputy. "Fetch Snowheart, now. Then take a patrol to the ShadowClan border, as fast as possible. I'll be right behind you. Be prepared to fight." The muscled brown and white she-cat nodded solemnly and moved off without another word.

Darkstar turned his attention back to her, green eyes stony. "Leopardpaw, I need you to explain to me exactly what happened."

Several heartbeats passed before the apprentice could utter a word. Unable to meet Darkstar's stare, she began to recount the story in a raspy voice. She stared down at the stone ground. Shame oozed from her pelt like the blood from her wounds.

After she finished, Darkstar stared down at the apprentice for a moment, his gaze still and unreadable. He sighed, and then moved around her to join the rest of the battle-ready warriors.

A nervous buzz rose in camp as warriors scrambled into place while Dawnleaf barked orders. Gingerstorm wrapped her fluffy tail around her four kits and pulled them into the nursery, blue eyes fearful. Fogpaw, Weedpaw, and the other apprentices stood straighter as of hoping they would be chosen for the mission. Leopardpaw yearned to tell them all that it was too late, the damage had been done, but she was too cowardly to even do that.

Leopardpaw stood there in a daze, numb to the chatter. However, she wasn't oblivious to the uneasy stares many of her Clanmates gave to her in passing, as if she were the intruder in their camp. The most murderous stare came from Sandstreak, her blazing yellow eyes showing the most emotion since Leopardpaw had returned to ThunderClan. The lithe cream she-cat glared at her daughter before disappearing into the warriors' den.

Suddenly snapping out of it, the young apprentice turned toward the thorn tunnel, set on accompanying the patrol back out into the territory.

A white face appeared before her, and a gentle tail wrapped around her shoulders, trying to coax her toward the medicine den. "Come with me, Leopardpaw," Snowheart murmured, her voice miles away.

Leopardpaw tried to resist, but she could feel her shoulders losing their strength from the amount of blood that had oozed out. A stab in her chest from the memory of Maplefur's blank gray eyes made her rethink her decision to go out and help. Vision swirling, she eventually gave in and leaned into the white she-cat for support. The pair limped to the medicine den.

Leopardpaw lay still in a mossy nest. For once, she was thankful that she had spent so much time collecting new bedding for the medicine den. Still, the heaviness in her belly was worse than the bloody claw marks on her shoulders.

Snowheart was a rush of white fur, going back and forth through the herb storages. She muttered to herself, tail twitching nervously. "Goldenrod, chervil, burdock..." she muttered to herself.

Leopardpaw wanted to tell her it was marigold that would held prevent the infection in her wounds, but she held her tongue. Perhaps ThunderClan would be better off if she died from infection. Every cat she seemed to grow close to has died, their death scent haunted her dreams. Squirrelheart might have been right about her, that she was an omen of bad luck. She grimaced as she imagined the look on her mentor's face the next time he saw her. Leopardpaw was responsible for his mate's death; Maplefur was protecting her when she was killed. If Squirrelheart hated her before, he would want to kill her now. She shivered at the thought.

Eventually, Snowheart gave up searching for the correct remedy, and carefully stopped her bleeding with the few cobwebs she still had. Watching the white she-cat, her paws stained red and blue eyes flickering with worry, Leopardpaw felt sorry for her.

Time dissolved into a blur, and at some point a small black tom entered the den, green eyes concerned. He laid next to Leopardpaw's nest, his slim tail wrapped around her.

The spotted she-cat had avoided her brother for many sunrises now. Mousepaw was not oblivious to her disappearances at night, and she knew he highly disapproved. Other than that, she was still upset that he had blown her off so harshly last time she tried to talk with him about Squirrelheart.

However, at this moment, Leopardpaw did not have the energy to run him off. That little black tom could be just as stubborn as she was.

Just before drifting into an uneasy sleep, the apprentice remembered her prey, that little mouse still buried out in the territory. She had forgotten it. She had not contributed to the Clan after all.