Chapter Eight
The Rogue's Apprentice

"Get your tail down!"

Flowerkit winced as his hindquarters were forcefully pushed lower to the ground by a large paw.

"Spread your feet. You think you can stalk like that? Quit twitchin' your tail, shorty. You're hopeless."

Flowerkit glared balefully up into Jake's single yellow eye. The rogue was trying to teach him a hunting crouch - and though he insisted the issues were all on Flowerkit's part, the small kitten was certain Jake was a horrible mentor.

"I'm not going to be hunting for you anymore," the dirty-furred rogue had told him earlier. "So you're gonna have to learn to catch your own food."

He awkwardly tried to follow the older tom's instructions, sliding his paws out sideways and attempting to quell the irritated movements of his tail. The position felt altogether wrong.

Jake surveyed Flowerkit's stance with a critical gaze for a long heartbeat. Then he snorted condescendingly. "You look like a squattin' duck," he told the kit, whose muscles were now starting to cramp.

Flowerkit stood and stretched out his legs. "You're teaching me wrong," he meowed accusingly.

"Am not." The words were accompanied by a harsh cuff around Flowerkit's ears. "Now get back down and try again."

Flowerkit growled under his breath and resumed his crouch. He figured out that if he placed his paws a little closer together, he could balance easier. Then he looked up and watched as Jake ambled away. The rogue stopped a fair distance away, then pointed out a specific leaf on the ground. "Okay, shrimp, try pouncin' on this."

Flowerkit nodded and sunk a little lower into his crouch. His gaze locked on his target. His hindquarters waggled, his tail flickered, and then he pushed off his back legs and sprung as far as he could... landing awkwardly on three paws, a fox-length away from the leaf.

Jake rolled his eye. "My mind is blown by your stupidity, kit. Your brain must be the size of a worm."

Flowerkit's pitch-black fur bristled defensively and he bared his teeth. "Quit mockin' me!"

After only two days of being with Jake, Flowerkit already found himself talking like the scarred tom, punctuating his expressions with "Quits" and "Don'ts" and using a more growly inflection. Flowerkit hadn't noticed, but Jake had; the rogue found himself in a constant state of bemusement. Not that he showed it.

"I'll mock you when I want, shrimp." Jake swished his tail.

"Don't call me shrimp," Flowerkit muttered.

Jake pretended not to hear. "You have to get closer to your target before you can pounce. You ain't a puma."

"Oh." Frowning, Flowerkit stood and walked toward the leaf, pausing less than a tail-length away. Before he could sink into his hunting crouch, however, something crashed into his side, sending the kit sprawling. All the breath was knocked out of him and he closed his eyes, dazed. Something pressed down on his chest.

When he recovered enough to open his eyes, Flowerkit found himself staring up into Jake's furiously twisted expression. The rogue had one paw placed against Flowerkit's heart, pinning him down.

"And just what," Jake hissed, "is the whole point of a hunting crouch if you're just gonna walk up to it?"

"Let me go," Flowerkit gasped. The pressure on his chest reminded him forcibly of Mosskit, and he felt another familiar spike of hatred, this time towards Jake. The kit glared up at him until the filthy tom let him up.

After picking himself up off the ground, Flowerkit turned toward his unofficial guardian with teeth bared. "You're a horrible mentor!" the black kitten screamed. "I could learn better on my own!"

Jake's yellow eye flashed with anger. "You think you're so smart, don't you, little Clanner? Fine. Do it on your own, then. I won't help you," he snarled.

"Fine! I will!" Flowerkit yowled back. He whirled and stalked away angrily, his tail straight up as though he didn't have a care in the world for the cat he was walking away from.

Flowerkit continued walking until Jake was out of sight among the trees, then he let himself taste the air. The scents were confusing; all he could really smell was himself and something rotting in the undergrowth nearby. A short exploration revealed the rotting thing to be a small tree fruit. Flowerkit returned his attention to the hunt and wandered further away, trying to cross a prey-scent, but he encountered nothing, and soon found himself relying on his other senses instead.

Finally, a rustle in the bushes nearby alerted him to the presence of a small animal. Flowerkit eagerly dropped into his new crouch, his amber gaze glued to the bush and his ears pricked forward, straining for the slightest sound. Very slowly, a young mouse emerged. Flowerkit held his breath. The little rodent shuffled around in the grass a bit before picking up a tiny seed and bringing it up to its snout. This was Flowerkit's chance, while it was distracted. He took a slow, agonizing step forward, determined to catch the mouse... and promptly placed his paw down on a dead leaf.

The ensuing crackle of noise sent the mouse scurrying back under the cover of the bush. Cursing, Flowerkit tried to nose his way after it, but he couldn't push through the spiky wooden branches. He attempted circling the bush, to see if the mouse had run through to the other side, but it seemed to be staying where it was safe and sheltered under the bush. Flowerkit stomped around for a while before finally abandoning it.

He tried two more times to catch something; a bird he had been following saw him almost immediately and sought shelter in the highest bough of a birch tree, and the second mouse had apparently felt his pawsteps through the ground because it too ran off before Flowerkit could get close. Eventually Flowerkit had to admit that it was getting too dark to hunt any longer and that he would have to return.

Back at Jake's impromptu den, a small furrow in the earth beneath the roots of an oak (Flowerkit had to sleep outside), the rogue was already curled up in his nest. Flowerkit sighed and stretched out on the other side of the tree, so that he couldn't see the dirty-furred tom. (By now Flowerkit's own pelt had accumulated quite a bit of grime, but he didn't mind. According to Jake, grooming was a kittypet thing to do.) Ignoring the rumbly pangs of hunger from his stomach, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Flowerkit woke up the next morning with a ravenous appetite. Jake had already left the den site, and there was no convenient vole placed in front of him, so Flowerkit decided that the rogue must be honoring his promise not to hunt for him anymore.

Flowerkit turned to the task of hunting with new energy, fueled by the insistent demands of his empty tummy. He opened his jaws to scent his surroundings, letting the air currents touch the glands on the roof of his mouth. His nose twitched instinctively. It smelled like air. Finally he deciphered the scent of a warm, living creature and became excited because of how strong the scent was. He tried his hand at following the scent, moving around the trunk of oak... and realized it was Jake's old scent from where he had slept. Flowerkit scowled and moved off.

Deeper in the forest, Flowerkit followed the trill of birdsong, only to watch in frustration as a pair of chickadees hopped around in the highest branches of a slim birch. He couldn't climb trees yet. Continuing on, he tried chasing a ginger-furred squirrel into his claws, but it too sought refuge in a tree. With loud grumbles from both his throat and his belly, Flowerkit finally abandoned his hunt and went to find Jake.

The rogue wasn't surprised to see him empty-pawed. He teased the kit at first - "What, no prey threw itself into your claws, O Great Warrior?" - but eventually grew tired of it when Flowerkit proved too tired to react much more than with a growl and a glare. The black furred kitten was suffering a heartbreaking bout of homesickness. Ashenbird had never let him go hungry.

"If you're so hungry, why don't you just go back crying to those Clan cats to feed you?" Jake asked later, having heard a particularly noisy gurgle from Flowerkit's belly.

"I can't," Flowerkit murmured in a depressed tone. He couldn't face the other kits, not now. Now that they knew how weak he was... That he had run away from them... He couldn't go crawling back.

He had been hoping to do other stuff today, too, like resting and exploring and maybe even getting Jake to show him some battle moves (though Flowerkit wondered how good at fighting the rogue could possibly be, considering all the scars he had collected). However as the day wore on and his hunger grew worse, the kit realized that continuing to try and hunt for himself was a must.

'Try' being the key word. No matter how many tiny creatures Flowerkit sought out, he couldn't succeed in catching a single one. He even became desperate enough to eat a small beetle he had found, though the crunchy shell made it difficult to chew and the aftertaste made him wish he hadn't. Plus it didn't quell the pangs in his stomach in the slightest.

As the sun inched closer to the horizon, Flowerkit stumbled back to the den site, his paws faltering with exhaustion and his empty stomach gnawing painfully on his insides. This was it, he thought miserably. Soon he would pass out or collapse to the ground in starvation. Most likely he would curl up to sleep and never wake up again, not having enough energy to open his eyes. Or his stomach would finally eat up the rest of him, leaving nothing but a pile of bones. Either way, he was about to perish...

Then he stepped into view of the den site and saw a perfect, plump mouse placed beside the spot where Flowerkit slept, freshly caught and killed, just waiting for the kitten to gobble it up. Which he did, no questions asked. Jake wasn't even around to ask questions.

Finally, with a warm, full belly and a purr starting to rumble up from his chest, Flowerkit licked clean his whiskers and nestled himself happily between the roots of the oak tree. He was asleep instantly.

When the sky was light enough that Flowerkit couldn't sleep any longer, he found Jake already up and watching him with a narrowed eye as he half-heartedly washed his face. Flowerkit bounded up to him, all his energy renewed and his spirits returned to him.

"I hope you enjoyed that mouse last night, shorty. It's the last time I'm hunting for you."

"I did, actually. Thanks," Flowerkit replied, flashing the rogue a wide grin. He was determined not to let the scarred tom bother him today.

Jake hrr-umphed.

"Can we do some battle training today? You must know some moves, right?" Flowerkit asked, his tail high with excitement.

Jake refused. "You really think you could fight another cat if you can't even catch a mouse?"

Flowerkit forcefully stifled the following wave of irritation. "That'll change soon," he vowed, waving his tail. "I'm getting better. I just about had that shrew last night before it ran underground."

"Sure you did," Jake grunted. He stood and stretched out all four limbs before turning his back on the kit. "Well, I'm going to catch myself some breakfast... See you later, shrimp."

Flowerkit watched as Jake padded away, a plan already starting to form in his mind. The rogue had decided he wouldn't teach the clan kit, but that didn't mean Flowerkit couldn't learn from him... The black tom waited until Jake was well out of sight, then quietly started to follow. He slunk, shadow-like, through the forest, keeping Jake's scent fresh in his nose but staying far enough back that Jake couldn't see him.

Soon Flowerkit had to stumble back when he peered out from around a tree to see that the rogue had stopped and was staring intently at a clump of dead leaves on the ground, his ears pricked and alert. A chill breeze weaved over the earth and the leaves shivered. Flowerkit inhaled the mouth-watering scent of mouse. He watched as Jake lowered his body to the ground, his underfur just shy of brushing the dirt. His tail was held steady and level behind him. The rogue took two slow paces forward, moving silently, closing the distance between himself and the clump of leaves. Flowerkit noticed that the older tom's paws made no sound when coming into contact with the ground. Finally Jake sunk even lower into his crouch, letting his belly touch the earth. His tail twitched madly, and he rocked back onto his haunches - suddenly the rogue was in the air, his forepaws outstretched and his claws glinting as they squarely hit the dead leaves. A pained squeaking filled the air, and Jake bent his head to recover his prize. He straightened to show a limp mouse dangling from his jaws.

Flowerkit looked on in awe. For all of his nonexistant teaching skills, Jake was, in fact, an excellent hunter. At that moment the rogue looked his way - and, seeing the kit crouching half-hidden behind a tree, narrowed his yellow eye and stalked away, leaving Flowerkit with quite a bit to think about.

The black-furred tom mulled over what he had seen and absently licked his shoulder. He tried to recreate Jake's crouch in his mind, and how each individual step was soft and silent. Flowerkit moved himself into a similar position. He placed one paw down in front of him, but this time he spread his toes and focused on letting the fur around his pads cushion his paw. Something was still off, though, as he tried to take another step. His weight was wrong, so he shifted it into his back paws, but then he couldn't make those paws silent, so he shifted his weight back into his front paws. The result was somewhat similar to a caterpillar's crawl and extremely awkward. Flowerkit restarted and tried again, this time letting his weight rest somewhere in the middle. He let his belly grow heavy and his limbs become light. It worked better - this time he took three absolutely soundless pawsteps before he lost his balance and toppled over. The kit tried one more time, and on this attempt, his weight settled a bit more naturally into his haunches. He had to concentrate to keep it there, but he found he could maneuver much more easily and did a few practice runs with his new hunting crouch.

Soon he felt ready to try it on real prey. Flowerkit snuffled around the area where Jake had caught his mouse, but he couldn't distinguish any other prey scents, so he wandered until a fresh, strong scent hit his nose: a shrew!

Flowerkit glanced about for the source of the scent, and spotted it rooting through the undergrowth. With a sly grin the rogue kitten sunk into his crouch, letting his weight rest in his haunches and forcing his tail to be still. He took four light steps and sprung on the unsuspecting creature.

His claws curled around the warm body of the shrew, pinning it to his paws. Flowerkit stood, elation filling him as he looked at the prey squirming in his claws. He almost let it escape before quickly remembering to actually kill it, and he bent his head to take its life with a gentle bite to the neck.

It took all of Flowerkit's willpower not to gobble up his first ever catch immediately. Only his pride kept him from taking a huge bite. He wanted to show off his first prey to a certain disbelieving rogue who thought Flowerkit couldn't take care of himself.

Back at their makeshift camp, Jake was already there, lazily chewing on his own catch. Flowerkit could feel Jake's gaze on him as he walked into sight proudly carrying his shrew, but the kit purposefully didn't look at him. He just silently strode over to his spot and then happily started eating up his prey. When he snuck a glance over at the older rogue, he saw that Jake was ignoring him too. Flowerkit couldn't help a surge of pride that he had proved Jake wrong. He really could hunt. And now he wouldn't ever have to rely on anyone else to feed him ever again.

When Flowerkit had finished eating, he stood and strutted over to Jake, who was sitting and drawing a paw along his whiskers. It was pretty much the only part of him the rogue would wash. Flowerkit cleared his throat, but Jake didn't look up, forcing Flowerkit to be the first one to speak.

"So I can hunt now," Flowerkit meowed.

Jake grunted, not pausing in his grooming.

"Will you teach me to fight?"

Finally Jake looked at him, his one yellow eye narrowed as he stared down at the kit. There was a long heartbeat of silence.

"I suppose so. Couldn't hurt," Jake huffed, shuffling to his paws. He leered, and the scars on his face threw strange shadows over his expression. "We wouldn't want the shrimp to be too useless in a fight, now do we?"

Flowerkit bristled, but Jake waved him off with his tail. "Alright, alright. I'll teach ya. Right here, right now, kitten. Let's see what you got." When Flowerkit just stood there, waiting, Jake growled. "Well, what are you waitin' for? Attack me."

Flowerkit blinked, then bundled himself up into a crouch. He thrust with his hind legs and sprung into the air, claws outstretched... and promptly got swatted to the side by one of Jake's huge paws. The rogue snorted.

"You really are useless. Look, kit, you're so tiny it's not a problem for any cat to fend you off when you're so obvious with your attacks. You've got to get in close, attack as fast as possible and inflict as much damage as you can onto your opponent before getting out of range of their counter attack. That's the only way you'll win. Try again."

Flowerkit readied himself for a second attempt, keeping all of Jake's words firmly in his head. This time he faked a run for Jake's side, and as the larger tom moved to defend himself, Flowerkit leapt towards his opposite, exposed side and ran his claws through Jake's fur. The rogue's mats and tangles caught Flowerkit's claws, but he retracted them and ducked underneath Jake to bite at his hind leg instead. His jaws clamped harmlessly over Jake's limb and then Flowerkit scrambled back, out of the way before his opponent could turn to bat him aside again.

Jake appraised the crouched kit with his single yellow eye, considering. "Not bad, I suppose," he grunted. "I didn't even have to teach you to feint, so good job. However," he continued, "your enemies won't be deterred by a little scratch on the side and a sore leg. Nor will they stop to tell you what you did wrong. They're going to keep coming after you, again and again, and they're not going to let you stop and rest. So whatever you do, shrimp, don't let yourself get pinned, because you'll be dead. Got it?"

"Got it," Flowerkit muttered, hoping he could remember all that.

"Now attack again, and this time I won't stop to give you space."

Flowerkit threw himself at Jake, feinting to both sides before diving under his belly and twisting to rake his claws over the soft underside. He could hear Jake growl and sensed the rogue about to flatten him, but Flowerkit rolled out from under the bigger cat, tripping up Jake's hind legs in the process and sending Jake sprawling. But that didn't keep him down long; Jake was up and fighting again before Flowerkit could catch his breath. The small tom dodged Jake's swiping paws, continuously moving backwards, and looked for an opening to attack, but the rogue didn't give him one. Then Flowerkit was sent flying when Jake managed to hit him with a powerful side swipe. As Flowerkit struggled to regain his paws, Jake forced him back to the ground and held him down.

"You really aren't too bad at this, shrimp. If your claws had really gotten my belly, I might actually be hurt right now. But you're still too slow to recover." Jake let Flowerkit up and nudged him to his feet. "Again."

They continued sparring in a similar manner, Flowerkit attacking his mentor and then defending himself from Jake's attacks. He found that battling came naturally to him, and he was quick to target all of Jake's vulnerable spots. After Jake was sporting a new scratch on his cheek and Flowerkit was bleeding from the side, they outlawed claws, but Flowerkit still fought full-out.

Finally the sun hung too low on the horizon for them to train any longer; it kept glaring in their eyes whenever they turned their heads west. Plus Flowerkit was exhausted. He didn't even bother trying to hunt before he retired for the day, he simply curled up in his nest and had passed out the same heartbeat his eyes slid closed.

The next few days passed much the same. Flowerkit would wake up to hunt, some days faring prosperously, while other days he would go to sleep hungry, unable to catch any prey. It wasn't easy for Flowerkit, but it was manageable. In the afternoons, he and Jake would practice battling until Flowerkit got either too tired or too hungry and made another attempt at hunting. And in any spare time he had, the pure black kitten would be napping. Each day got a little colder, and the leaves on the trees turned color, setting the scenes for Jake and Flowerkit's practice battles with vibrant reds and golds.

Jake actually seemed impressed with Flowerkit's fighting skills. His mocking behaviour and derogative remarks became less common and Flowerkit even got the impression that the dirty-furred rogue enjoyed sparring with him.

After all, Flowerkit had incentive enough to improve his fighting skills. Every time Jake's paw landed on his chest, or he snapped out a cruel comment, thoughts of Mosskit and the other ThunderClan bullies would fill his mind, and the anger that came with it would push him to fight harder every time.