Bluestar's Prophecy

“And where there are bugs there’s prey,” Stonepelt finished. The gray warrior stiffened and his ears pricked. Bluepaw followed his gaze. A small, furry shape was skittering along one of the roots.

Mouse!

The fur rippled along her spine, and she unsheathed her claws. “When do we pounce?” she hissed to Stonepelt.

“Not ye—”

Before he could finish, Snowpaw shot forward, rattling through the bush and throwing up leaves as she tore across the forest floor. She leaped for the mouse, but it had disappeared, and she sat down with a thud, her tail thrashing through the leaves, shoulders back and ears flattened in disgust.

“Mouse dung!”

She turned and stalked back to her Clanmates. Sparrowpelt was shaking his head as she appeared behind the bush. “I like your enthusiasm,” he meowed. “But your technique could use a little work.”

There was a teasing lightness in his tone that made Bluepaw’s whiskers twitch and a purr of amusement rose in her throat.

Snowpaw turned on her. “You can shut up!”

Bluepaw backed away, alarmed, then was relieved to see Snowpaw’s anger melt as soon as their gaze met.

“Sorry,” Snowpaw apologized. “I was just upset.”

“You were fast,” Bluepaw encouraged her.

“I’m afraid speed doesn’t count when it comes to mice,” Sparrowpelt meowed. “They don’t stray far from their burrows, and they move quickly. This is why it’s important to master stalking. Skill is far more important than speed.”

Stonepelt looked at Sparrowpelt. “Maybe we should save hunting for another day and practice stalking instead.”

Sparrowpelt nodded, though Snowpaw sighed.

But Bluepaw was eager to show her mentor the skills Patchpaw had already taught her. She dropped low to the ground, keeping her tail pressed against the leaves, and began to stalk forward.

“Not bad,” Stonepelt meowed. “But lift your tail a little. You don’t want it dragging through the leaves. Lower your chin, too, and flatten your ears. You need to try to disguise your shape.”

“Like this?” Snowpaw crouched beside Bluepaw, ears flat, chin swaying close to the ground like a snake.

“Good,” Sparrowpelt praised her. “Now move forward slowly. Remember, make your movements as small as you can.”

Bluepaw put one paw lightly in front of the other, pulling herself forward; she lifted her belly when she heard it drag on the leaves. She placed each paw down so gently that the leaves flattened beneath her without crunching.

“Promising,” Stonepelt purred, and Bluepaw let out a sigh of relief.

They practiced until the sun began to slide behind the trees.

“It’s time we went home,” Sparrowpelt announced.

“Just one more go,” Bluepaw pleaded. She was so close to being able to move silently through the leaves.

“You can practice more in camp, if you like.”

“But there aren’t so many leaves there,” Bluepaw complained.

Snowpaw sat up and fluffed out her fur. “Come on, Bluepaw. It’s getting cold, and I’m hungry.”

Sighing, Bluepaw straightened up. “Okay.”

She watched Sparrowpelt and Snowpaw head away through the trees.

“We can practice again tomorrow,” Stonepelt promised, bounding away to catch up with Sparrowpelt.

Bluepaw trailed a few tail-lengths behind her Clanmates, wishing she could practice now. Suddenly she heard the skitter of paws on bark. She froze. Glancing sideways, she spotted a squirrel sitting on a tree root with a nut between its paws. It was gnawing busily, absorbed in its tasty morsel.

Bluepaw dropped into a crouch. Raising her belly and lifting her tail so it just skimmed the leaves, she began creeping toward it, silent as a snake on a rock. She was trembling with excitement; her heart was pounding so hard, she thought the squirrel must hear it.

But the squirrel only carried on gnawing until Bluepaw was so close, she could hear its teeth scrape the nut. Holding her breath, she stopped and pressed her backside to the ground, tensing the muscles in her hind legs.

Now!

The squirrel had no time to move. She knocked it from the root, pinned it to the ground, and sunk her teeth into its neck. The warm tang of blood surprised her as the squirrel went limp beneath her paws.

“What’s happened?” Stonepelt leaped onto the root behind her, his pelt bristling.

Bluepaw sat up with the heavy squirrel hanging from her jaws.

Stonepelt’s eyes gleamed. “Well done!”

Sparrowpelt and Snowpaw appeared behind him. Snowpaw’s eyes grew round, and Sparrowpelt opened his mouth and stared for a moment.

“Did you catch that?”

Joy rising like a bird in her heart, Bluepaw nodded.

“It’s almost as big as you,” Snowpaw whispered.

“Give thanks to StarClan for the life this creature has given to feed the Clan,” Stonepelt meowed.

Thank you, StarClan!

Stonepelt brushed against her. “Let’s get it back to camp while it’s still warm.”

Bluepaw was relieved when he took the squirrel from her. She’d been wondering how she’d carry it home without tripping over. “Thanks.” She trotted happily past him and headed for the ravine.

“No way!” Leopardpaw stared in disbelief as Stonepelt laid the squirrel on the fresh-kill pile.