Chapter 3

"Psst, Blizzardpaw!"

Fernpaw flicked his brother's ear with his tail, suppressing a purr. The gray and white tom turned, startled, towards his brother.
"What?" he asked.

They lay in the center of camp, sun high and warm on their fur, a squirrel between them.
"You have your dreamy look," Fernpaw informed him in a whisper, "and you're staring again."

"What dreamy look? What are you talking about?" Blizzardpaw fluffed with indignation. Fernpaw took a bite of their shared squirrel, chewed slowly, and swallowed before responding.

"You know, the one you get when you're around Scorchpaw," he drew out the word teasingly.

"We do not talk about he who must not be named! Also, I am not staring and there is no dreamy look! You're crazy."

"I'm sure," Fernpaw's voice dripped with sarcasm, "oh look, here he comes! I have to make dirt, catch you later?" Fernpaw hopped up, ready to dash away, but Blizzardpaw caught his tail.

"Please stay," he whispered, eyes wide and pleading, "you have to help! I can never talk to him properly!"
"Fine, fine," Fernpaw settled down again, "but don't hide behind me."

Scorchpaw strolled over to them, black and ginger tail swishing, and Blizzardpaw puffed up as if to appear bigger and more confident.
"Oh, it's you," Scorchpaw meowed, giving them an irritated look, "I thought Emberpaw was over here somewhere. Have you seen him?"

"Oh, I think he went out of camp," Blizzardpaw meowed, "we could go look for him together; I think he went toward the eastern border?"

"Why would I go with you?" Scorchpaw snapped, "I'll find him faster alone anyway." He turned his back and stalked out of camp. Blizzardpaw looked almost comically disappointed.
"He's too good for you," Fernpaw flicked his ear gently with his tail, "plus, there's always next time."

"I know," his brother sighed, long and tragic. "It's just, I don't know how to get him to like me."

"He either likes you or he doesn't; you shouldn't have to change who you are to catch his eye. Plus, I think he likes Honeypaw."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"I know, right?" Fernpaw rolled his eyes, then jumped as a hiss sliced across the clearing.

"What are you talking about? I am leading this patrol; your seniority is irrelevant!" Both brothers turned to see two cats facing off, backs arched and tails lashing. The one who'd spoken was Mossfire, a younger warrior, and standing before her was Lizardstrike.

"I want to take the patrol to the western border; it hasn't been hunted in days! Everyone knows you over-hunt the southern border because you like the grassland sparrows, but you're going to kill them off soon and we'll have none left!" Lizardstrike snapped back at her, orange eyes blazing.

"That's a bunch of fox-dung! Everyone knows how many grassland sparrows live on the southern border this time of year; they wouldn't die off, even if they were all we hunted! Either way, the western border barely has any prey; get over yourself and let's go!"

This was true, Fernpaw knew. Grassland sparrows gathered in large flocks on the meadows by the southern border, especially now, when plants were new. They were juicy and tender, and everyone loved them. The western border was full of stringy, bony blackbirds that were much harder to catch, and not worth it either. Why was Lizardstrike doing this?

From his den in the roots of an oak, Sleetstar emerged. Fernpaw watched his brother straighten his posture and clean his whiskers again as his mentor stepped into the sunlight.

"That's enough, both of you! Mossfire, you shouldn't over-hunt the meadows, even a kit knows that! Lizardstrike, you will lead the patrol to the western border. Now off you go!" Sleetstar whisked his tail impatiently, and Mossfire gave Lizardstrike a furious glare. She opened her mouth to argue with Sleetstar, but he had turned his back. The patrol left camp in mutinous silence.

"That wasn't fair," Fernpaw muttered to his brother, "she is right."

"Yes it was; Lizardstrike's older than her, and we shouldn't over-hunt the meadows."

"He's barely six moons older than she is, that's not enough of an age difference to count for much. Plus, nobody likes the blackbirds on the western border, and there are plenty of sparrows."

"Sleetstar clearly disagrees with her, and so do I." Blizzardpaw turned back to the squirrel, and Fernpaw gave him a shocked look.

"If that's how you're going to be," he murmured under his breath so only he could hear.

"Fernpaw!" A waving ginger and white tail caught his eye, and Fernpaw stood and padded over to his mentor. "We're training with Ashpaw and Buzzardpaw, I'd like him to see you older apprentices do some mock battles."

They trotted out of camp at a brisk pace, the forest afternoon blowing away Fernpaw's uneasiness about the patrol argument. The air was soft, the perfect mix of cool breeze and warm sunshine. The year's first crickets chirped from the underbrush, and birds fluttered and sang in the treetops. The scents of early spring were fresh and crisp on his tongue.

The training clearing was cast in shadow by the trees around it when they arrived, and the sand was cool under his pads as he stepped into the ring and set to work on his warm-ups. Ashpaw was already there, running laps around the edge, and Fernpaw took a place in the middle of the clearing to do stretches while they waited for their younger denmate to appear.

Ashpaw's mentor Quickstrike was in deep conversation with Sunspots when Buzzardpaw and Hawktalon finally strolled into the clearing almost one hour later. She whipped around at the sound of their paws, black pelt fluffed with anger.
"You're late," she growled, "you're wasting everyone's time. Get in the ring, Buzzardpaw."

"Don't get your tail in a twist," Hawktalon smarmed, touching Quickstrike's shoulder with his tail, "you don't have dusk patrol; what's the big deal?"

The black she-cat stepped away from him, tail lashing.
"Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

Fernpaw and Ashpaw exchanged awkward glances, tail-tips twitching uneasily. They all watched Buzzardpaw run laps and stretch.
"Keep your tail waving for balance," Quickstrike scolded as the golden tom slipped and fell, "that front-paw swipe needs more work before you try hiding it."

"His swipe is fine, Quickstrike," Hawktalon meowed, flicking his tail in dismissal, "there's no harm in practicing hiding his tail."

Buzzardpaw's next exercise was leaping as far as he could across the clearing. He landed with an ungraceful thump on his side, sand flying up everywhere, and sat up sputtering. Aashpaw's whiskers were twitching with laughter, a purr rumbling in her throat. Fernpaw could barely suppress his own amusement. Buzzardpaw glared at everyone, fuming.

"You need to be balanced before you leap," Quickstrike reprimanded, "you have to take care to make sure your crouch is right or you'll land like you just did."

"Would you stop interfering?" Hawktalon whirled toward her, brown and black fur bristling with anger. "Buzzardpaw is my apprentice; I train him how I want."

"You aren't doing your job!" Quickstrike hissed. "Look at his form! It's ridiculous, and you don't even care!"

"Look how humiliated he is! We're supposed to praise our apprentices, not cut them down. Either way he's my apprentice."

"These are group sessions for a reason! All the mentors can critique all of the apprentices!"

Sunspots stepped between the two warriors, ginger and white fur smooth and green eyes calm.
"How about," she said, "we go back to camp. None of this is good for the apprentices, or us. You two are quarreling like kits!"

Both warriors nodded glumly, eyes flashing with anger, and the patrol began to head towards camp.

"Hawktalon's a real treat, am I right?" Ashpaw purred.

"I'm just worried," Fernpaw admitted, "two arguments like that in one day? That's not normal."

"Aw, relax a bit, Fernpaw," Ashpaw nudged him with her shoulder, "it'll blow over in a day or two; cats are just getting used to the new leader, that's all. Plus, it's so fun to watch."

"How is it fun to watch?" Fernpaw gave her an incredulous look, "it makes me so nervous, like what if they get into a fight or something? Plus, it's so awkward."

"You worry over everything, don't you?" Ashpaw sighed in exasperation, then trotted off to the head of the patrol, long tail whisking behind her.

Just like that, she was gone.