WoundedEye's destiny - Chapter 4

WoundedEye's destiny is my very first novella, and I'm proud to share it with you guys! English isn't my native language, so please feel free to bring any english mistake to my attention so I can correct it ❤️ I'd also be glad if you guys have things to say about how I write dialogues, because I don't really know the rules to shape them in english (by that I mean where to place " ", where to use -, etc.) And of course please tell me what you think of the story ! I'll post new chapters regularly, there are 8 of them.

“What got through your mind, you mouse-brain?!”

DirtPaw flattened his ears to ClayFoot’s aggressive reaction. The brown tabby tom’s tail violently whipped the air and his lips were drawn back in a snarl.

“You worried the whole Clan!” he continued without lowering his tone. “Everyone thought something had happened to you, we where all searching for you!”

Around them, the rest of the Clan had gathered, watching the scene silently. The novice wished he could disappear. Why was his father so mad? If he had truly been worried, why wasn’t he glad to see him safe and well? Behind the male, a second tom approached, his ginger fur waving gently with the wind. MarigoldStar’s amber gaze seemed to look through DirtPaw.

“Why did you leave?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes. “And where were you?”

The kit didn’t dare responding. His mind sought for an excuse in vain: nothing plausible came, and he couldn’t find the will to admit he had spent the afternoon with a kittypet. He flinched as he felt a cat sniffing his pelt.

“He smells like Twolegs!” ElmFur exclaimed. “He also smells like cows, he must have been at the farm!”

Incredulous and outraged mews came from the crowd as accusing glances fixed the apprentice. A reddish-brown tom hissed:

“He’s been a novice for a moon, he’s useless, and now he’s enjoying his sweet time with Twolegs! MarigoldStar, you must punish him!”

Nobody contradicted the male, which deeply hurt DirtPaw’s feelings. Apparently, his whole Clan thought he was worthless. The leader looked at the kit for what seemed like an eternity, his gaze indecipherable. Finally, he flicked his tail and spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“DirtPaw will be punished, don’t worry. Now, please all get back to your work.”

It took some time for the crowd to disperse, but everyone left eventually. MarigoldStar padded past the novice, mewing to him in the process:

“Follow me in my den.”

DirtPaw swallowed hard, following the large ginger tom, unable to hide his fear. What was the leader going to tell him? What punishment would he have to endure?

The tom led him behind the promontory, where a tunnel plunged into the earth right to the leader’s den. The male penetrated inside, the apprentice at his heels. Once they were isolated from the rest of the Clan, MarigoldStar prompted the kit to sit down.

“I hope you understand you’ve made a mistake today,” he said firmly. “And that you understand why you must be punished.”

“Yes, MarigoldStar,” DirtPaw responded sadly.

“Why have you left?” the leader asked with a softer voice. “Is something bothering you?”

The almost fatherly tone the tom used surprised the kit. Feeling a bit more at ease, he tried to explain:

“It’s pretty hard,” he admitted. “MistEar was trying to teach me the hunter’s crouch, but I’m too lame.” DirtPaw looked down pitifully. “I got angry and fled. I didn’t leave our territory on purpose, I swear, I only noticed once I was already near the Twolegs nests.”

“You still chose to go to the farm,” MarigoldStar mewed with slitted eyes. “Why didn’t you come back instead?”

“I… I didn’t really want to come back,” the novice whispered. “I don’t feel like I’ll ever be a good hunter, I feel like training me is nothing more than a waste of time for MistEar and I.”

The leader kept his gaze on the kit, his amber eyes betraying no emotion. DirtPaw grew more and more uncomfortable and shifted his paws, looking at the ground to avoid his leader’s gaze. Finally, the adult spoke again:

“Your place is here, DirtPaw, don’t ever forget it.”

Before the apprentice could question him, MarigoldStar turned away and dismissed him with a flick of his tail.

“You’ll have take care of the elders’ ticks and bedding for a moon.”

Without a word, the novice nodded and exited the den, his mind boiling despite the fresh air brushing his fur. Your place is here, don’t ever forget it. DirtPaw had the uncomfortable feeling that his leader’s words meant much more than it seemed. He shuddered as he looked at the sky. Was it a warning, or even, a threat?

Days passed with no improvement in DirtPaw’s situation. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t regain some of his clanmates’ trust, especially now that rumors were spreading about him befriending a kittypet. He wasn’t even trying to deny anymore, the others weren’t dupe and had all smelled Boris’ scent on the novice’s pelt.

As he finished replacing the elders’ bedding, a sunbathing white male called him from the entrance to the den:

“When you’ll be done with that, could you come and help me? There’s a tick on my neck, I need your little paws to get it off.”

“Yes, grandpa,” DirtPaw sighed grumpily.

The elder, known as FlakeFrost and father of WoolFlower, was a very nice tom, but rummaging though his matted pelt didn’t sound like a good time. Dragging his paws, DirtPaw walked toward the medicine cats’ den to get some mouse bile. Even though this substance was disgusting, it was a wonderful way to get rid of ticks that seemed to hate it just as much as cats.

As DirtPaw arrived at the smelly den, he immediately heard the voice of EmberPaw, the medicine cat apprentice, calling for him. The young black and ginger she-cat was sorting herbs and seemed more than glad to have an excuse to take a break.

“Hi, DirtPaw!” she exclaimed happily. “Are you bored too?”

The question took the novice by surprise. Even though sorting herbs didn’t seem like a fun task, he hadn’t imagined that a medicine cat could be so openly reluctant to do it. Either way, he couldn’t help feeling hot under his fur when he met the beautiful eyes of the pretty she-cat.

“Even though I can’t say I’m having fun, no, I’m not bored either,” he finally answered as he shrugged. “I still have to take care of the elders.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the young she-cat apologized. “I totally forgot about it! Do you need anything?”

“FlakeFrost has a tick on the neck, I’d need bile to get it off.”

 EmberPaw nodded and dashed into her den, disorganizing all the herbs she had sorted in little piles. She came back quickly, carrying a folded leaf in her mouth. As she padded past DirtPaw, she gestured for him to follow her as she brought her leaf to the elder who was still sunbathing peacefully. She unfolded the leaf next to the tom and asked the apprentice:

“You’ve never done that, right?”

“I saw apprentices do it, but I’ve never done it myself,” he admitted shamefully. “MistEar spends so much time trying to teach me how to hunt that she has never really had time to show me how to do that.”

“It’s very easy, you’ll see!” she said enthusiastically. “First, you have to open the gallbladder with your claw and press moss onto it so it’ll absorb the bile. Then, you can just dab the soaked moss on the tick until it lets go!”

DirtPaw wrinkled his nose from disgust as his claw pierced the membrane. The liquid’s smell was disgusting, and the apprentice almost vomited his last meal when he soaked the moss he held between his jaws. Despite this, he managed to quickly get rid of the tick, which got a relieved sigh out of FlakeFrost.

“Thank you, my boy,” he mewed warmly. “You’re the first apprentice who manages to get a tick off of me without soaking my fur in bile!”

DirtPaw shifted his paws, flattered. It was so rare for him to hear any kind of praise that he couldn’t help but feel incredibly happy to have finally done something right. Next to him, the medicine cat apprentice purred.

“You’re skilled,” she mewed as she twitched her whiskers. “Are you done taking care of the elders for today? Because if you’re free, I wouldn’t say no to some company while I try to sort these stupid herbs!”

Again, the kit did his best to hide his surprise. Was it normal for a medicine cat to call their herbs “stupid”? He had never heard LarkFeather complain about her supplies even once, she had on the contrary always been glad whenever she had lots of stock.

“He spent the whole day taking care of us,” suddenly said FlakeFrost. “He deserves a break.”

DirtPaw gave a thankful nod to his grandfather, happy to finally be able to rest a little bit. Not to mention that EmberPaw was really friendly, making the apprentice eager to spend some time with her. Following her, he settled in front of her herbs as she sighed heavily and started to sort them again. She wasn’t even trying to hide her annoyance at this task that she seemed to despise.

“It’s so boring to do,” she complained after a few moments. “And I can’t even remember half the herbs!”

“You medicine cats have got a lot of things to learn,” DirtPaw mewed compassionately. “It’s normal to struggle a bit.”

“I don’t think the other medicine cat apprentices struggle half as much as I do,” the she-cat grumbled. “It’s been more than three moons since I’m a novice, and I barely know the basics! At the last half-moon meeting, I chatted with BlackPaw, SunClan’s medicine cat apprentice. He’s younger than me, but he already knows so much more!”

DirtPaw felt a twinge of pity for his clanmate; he only knew too well how painful comparing yourself to others can be. He drew closer to EmberPaw and gently laid his tail on the young female’s shoulder, feeling his heart quicken as he touched her.

“I may have been a novice for less time than you,” he mewed softly, “but I learn things that most cats can learn easily. My siblings are training to become warriors, but they caught their first prey on their first day! On the other paw, I’m supposed to be a hunter, but I still didn’t manage to catch anything despite a full moon of training. I understand what you feel, EmberPaw, it’s hard to be unable to learn a fast as the others.”

The kit didn’t dare looking at the she-cat in the eyes. Even though his words had been spoken with the kindest of intentions, EmberPaw could easily feel insulted instead. A purr appeased his fears, however.

“Thanks, DirtPaw,” she mewed as she licked his cheek, inciting a tiny squeak from the little male. “I forgot that things aren’t easy for you either, and I’m glad we can understand each other.”

Relieved and sharing his friend’s feeling, the pale brown novice couldn’t refrain a purr. Not feeling like the only struggling apprentice warmed his heart, and for the first time in a while, he felt understood and accepted.

DirtPaw crawled to the ground, his legs and tail well-positioned as he creeped slowly toward a plump vole that didn’t seem to notice the approaching predator. As he reminded himself of MistEar’s advice, the kit silently brought his legs under his body and braced himself to leap. When he considered the time to be right, he jumped out of the tall grass he was hiding in and landed right on his prey to which he gave an immediate killing bite.

The novice remained still above the tiny warm body, gaping. Suddenly, he yelled, chest puffed out and head jerked toward the sky.

“I did it, I did it! Look, StarClan, I did it!”

MistEar left the tall grass too and pressed herself against her apprentice.

“Congratulations, DirtPaw!” she exclaimed joyfully. “I told you you were going to make it. And it’s a nice piece you got, it’ll largely fill a stomach!”

The pale brown kit looked at his prey, evaluating his size with satisfaction. It was indeed a great catch, anyone who would eat it would be full until the next day. He grabbed the rodent between his jaws and brought it proudly to camp without even waiting for his mentor’s approval. The she-cat simply purred to that: she knew how much her novice had waited for this moment, she couldn’t blame him for wanting to show his prey to the whole Clan.

When DirtPaw entered the camp, he tried his best to keep a straight posture, setting his prey to the ground for everyone to see as he waited impatiently for his clanmates’ reaction. Unfortunately for him, the first comment he got wasn’t of the kind he had hoped for.

“That’s a nice piece of prey you got there, thanks for that, MistEar!”

The kit looked at the light brown elder who had talked. Apparently, the she-cat thought that, as usual, DirtPaw was only bringing back what his mentor had caught. Lifting his tail, he corrected the female:

“MistEar didn’t catch it, I did! It’s my first prey!”

“It’s about time!” ClayFoot growled as he approached his son. “I was starting to wonder if my son would remain a disgrace to us his whole life!”

His father’s tone and icy gaze took away all DirtPaw’s enthusiasm. The brown tabby tom didn’t seem proud of the novice at all.

“S-sorry,” he stammered. “But I finally did it! You… Are you not proud of me?”

“Proud?” ClayFoot paused, licking his chest pensively. “I must admit I’m having trouble being proud of a cat that doesn’t know how to hunt,” he finally muttered. “I wouldn’t be surprised you just got lucky.”

The kitten’s heart broke in two. He tried to reply, but words were stuck in his throat and couldn’t get out. To add to his misery, another cat appeared and commented on the apprentices’ catch mockingly.

“Voles are always clumsy, but this one is so fat that it probably couldn’t move much anymore,” ShadowPaw mewed. “It’s no surprise someone like you was able to catch it, even a newborn could’ve got it!”

Around them, as other cats gathered, DirtPaw could hear chuckling. Even though some showed a warm and compassionate expression, many seemed to find risible that the kit was so proud of his first prey. I’m probably the oldest cat in all Clans to catch something for the first time, he thought with a twinge of shame. There’s nothing to be proud of.

“It’s wonderful, sweetie,” WoolFlower said enthusiastically as she pressed herself against her son. “Even though I wish you had done that earlier, I’m glad to see my kit becoming a grown-up.”

His mother’s words did little to ease DirtPaw’s pain. He had been so proud only a few moments earlier, and now he felt totally devastated and wished he could disappear from his clanmates’ sight. From the corner of his eye, he saw RabbitPaw and ShrewPaw approaching his vole and exchanging a perplexed glance. With a slight growl, WoolFlower caught their attention and gestured for them to come and congratulate their brother.

“It’s, uh… it’s great you finally did it!” RabbitPaw hesitated. “It’s… it’s a nice vole.”

“Perhaps with some training you’ll be able to catch swifter things,” ShrewPaw mewed without tact. “Because voles are really slow.”

WoolFlower whipped her daughter’s nose with her tail to shut her up, but the harm had already been done. DirtPaw recoiled, refusing to hear any other word. Mom is happy for me, but sad it didn’t happen earlier, he thought. My siblings and ShadowPaw think my prey was too easy to catch, and dad is ashamed of me. What kind of Clan cat am I?

To everyone’s surprise, DirtPaw turned around and leaped toward the camp’s exit, running so fast that nobody had time to react and stop him. The kit ran recklessly, only one thought in head: the fact he wasn’t worthy of being a wild cat, even less a Clan cat.

Before DirtPaw could realize it, his paws had led him to the Twolegs farm once again. Winded, he stopped next to the barn, taking time to regain his senses and breath. As his thoughts were organizing again in his mind, he wailed from pain and despair. His sorrow was so strong that he could’ve sworn his heart was being torn apart in pieces.

“DirtPaw, you’re back! Is everything okay?”

The familiar and kind voice of Boris distracted the kit from his pain for a heartbeat. Lifting his gaze to the plump tom, his heart lightened. Suddenly, he felt like he had the perfect solution to all his issues.

“I’m okay,” he finally mewed. “But I took an important decision. I’d like to stay live with you.”