“Well, that was an utter waste of time,” Surfpelt muttered as she stalked from the undergrowth, pulling briars out of her fur.
Lichenstep, wet and sore and with mud in her fur, couldn’t help but agree.
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Despite the warming temperatures in the forest, prey was still scarce from the long and harsh winter, and the two had gone out to hunt and to refill the clan’s dwindling prey cache; new mouths to feed would not wait for leaf-out. Surfpelt had taken the lead with Lichenstep following behind her, and together they had come to a bend in the river where an eddy in its flow had created a pocket free of ice. The only downside, was that the eddy lay at the bottom of a steep embankment cut into the rocky, gritty soil by the river’s constant pulse, and made muddy by the feeble warmth of the thin late winter sun.
Together, the pair had stood at the top of the small cliff, looking for any way down to the water. From the vantage point, Surfpelt was sure that she could see fins breaking the dark surface, and the thought of fresh fish spurred both cats on. Anything would be better than another night of half-frozen vole, caught weeks ago and stashed beneath cedar bark.
Finally, Lichenstep saw the signs of a deer trail down the cliff face; by the size of the prints, forest elk had been using the path down to the open water to drink, and had worn the path into the soft ground with their weight and the frequency of their travels. The trail was wide enough for the cats to pad down to the water below, and with some trepidation, the pair set off down the muddy track to the river.
As the pair walked, Surfpelt in front and Lichenstep behind, Lichenstep had risked a look over the edge of the elk trail. While the track ended at the eddy, the higher portions lay above a thicket of brambles and nettles that grew along the bank of the river. Slipping and falling into those would be deeply unpleasant, and she sidled away from the edge onto the still-muddy but firmer ground of the cliffward side of the track.
Although muddy, the journey down to the water had been going relatively smoothly, and both cats were planning for the hunting strategy they would employ, as the water was far too cold still to risk swimming after fish.
All seemed calm, until an ear-splitting bugle broke the silence. Lichenstep whirled to see a massive bull elk thundering down the path towards the two cats. Time seemed to slow, and seeing no room on the track to avoid the massive cervid’s crashing hooves, she grabbed Surfpelt’s tail in her mouth and dove from the path!
Together, both cats tumbled and rolled down the muddy slope as the elk stampeded over the place where the cats had been only seconds before. Lichenstep had only a moment to register this fact before she and Surfpelt crashed together into the thorns and brambles.
Dazed and reeling, Lichenstep had crawled closer to Surfpelt, checking in on her friend. Surfpelt groaned, dirty and bruised, but otherwise unhurt. They had decided to stay in the cover of the briars until the elk and whatever had startled him were long gone, and it was midday before they crawled out and scrambled back up the bank and to camp.
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“Oh hey, you’ve got something there.”
“Hmm?” Lichenstep stirred from her dazed memories as Surfpelt pulled a strand of leaves from her muddied fur.
“Well would you look at that?” the huntress laughed, waving the herb in the warrior’s face. “Despite all that, you still managed to find some catmint? No wonder Hawkstar’s been talking about making you deputy.”
For the second time that day, Lichenstep’s world slowed to an utter crawl.
Deputy? Had she heard Surfpelt correctly? But Hawkstar knew, knew how she had been expelled from her former clan. Would they really choose her, after all of that? Her confusion and shock must have shown on her face, as Surfpelt gently bumped her shoulder, shocking her out of the daze.
“Aw, come on, Lichenstep. Let’s go give the catmint to Willowmask, and get cleaned up. Maybe if we’re lucky, it won’t be raining tomorrow and we can try again,” Surfpelt offered, and led the warrior off to the healer’s and to the dry warmth of Forest’s Heart.
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The dawn was heralded with gentle shafts of light filtering in through ancient scars in the bark of Forest’s Heart, warming the cedar bark. Lichenstep woke with a stretch and a wide yawn at the touch of another cat, and she looked around blearily to see who it was.
“Lichenstep, Lichenstep! Are you up? Surfpelt said we were going to try hunting again!”
The warrior blinked, the cat in front of her slowly coming into focus… Mostly. It was Salmonpaw, her apprentice alongside Surfpelt, eager as always to explore the forest. Behind him, she could see Fogpaw sitting comparatively patiently, their lashing tail the only indicator that the other apprentice was equally as eager as their sibling.
“Yes, Salmonpaw, I’m awake,” Lichenstep replied, rolling to her feet and stretching out yesterday’s bruises. “I am assuming you are waiting on me to wake your other mentor?”
The nods from both apprentices was no surprise to the warrior, and she gave a quiet chuckle; as eager as both of the young cats were to hunt and explore, it was common knowledge that waking Surfpelt first thing in the morning was perhaps not the wisest thing for an apprentice to do without substantial reason.
And eagerness for a hunting trip was not a substantial reason.
Together, the trio of cats padded out of Forest’s Heart to sit in the sun and wait for Surfpelt to join them.
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The wait was not long, and the hunting party was soon off into the dense trees. Frost still lingered in the shade, but the morning sun had turned what of the chill it touched to soft droplets of fresh dew. With the apprentices following close behind, Surfpelt and Lichenstep led the way down towards the shoreline, and the crashing surf of the tidepools.
Although it had been dawn when the quartet had left Forest’s Heart, it was nearing midday when they all arrived at the shoreline. Before the cats broke the treeline, however, Lichenstep gestured to Surfpelt to stop, before gesturing forward for the apprentices.
“Now, before you go hurrying out into the open,” she reminded to the two young cats as they crouched in the shrubs before the beach. “Do you remember your lessons?”
“Watch the tides?” offered Fogpaw, gesturing with a paw to a tall spire of rock waiting out off the coast; if the spire had sand visible around the base, it was safe to venture out to the tide pools, but if the spire’s sand was covered with water, it was best to hunt in the shade of the trees until the tide had entirely retreated back to the wild, roaring surf.
“Oh, and watch the skies!” Salmonpaw interjected, with a pointed look around the rocky beach. While bears and the occasional coastal wolves were common hazards on the flat estuary of Silvermouth, the rocky tidepools were frequented by the giant black-backed gulls and sea eagles, which could easily take a cat unawares.
“Sounds like you two know what you’re doing, then.” Surfpelt had crawled through the brush to come up on Salmonpaw’s other side, looking over at Lichenstep. “So what do you think, Lichenstep? Are they ready?”
“Of course, Surfpelt!” Lichenstep replied with a smile. “Alright you two. We’ll be watching, but you will be hunting the northern pools on your own today.” Here she paused, smiling warmly as the realization of what she had just said filled the two apprentices.
“Do you—?” Fogpaw started, before Salmonpaw nudged them on the shoulder; he didn’t want the two older cats to revoke the permissions for the pair’s first hunts without an adult cat close at paw!
“Yes, we do. Go on, we will be at the south pools,” Surfpelt urged.
The apprentices didn’t need another moment of permission, and after another check of the skies, Salmonpaw and Fogpaw crept from the brush and out onto the rocks, before heading up the beach to the north pools. Lichenstep and Surfpelt watched them go before heading out to the south pools; yesterday’s hunt had been an abysmal failure, but perhaps today luck would shine on the group.
But before then… Lichenstep had a question for Surfpelt.
“So, yesterday,” she began, following behind the huntress. “What was it you said about Hawkstar thinking of naming me as deputy?”
Surfpelt just laughed and ran off ahead down the seaweed and moss-covered rocks, leaving Lichenstep flustered and no closer to an answer behind her. The warrior sighed and followed behind Surfpelt, calling out for the hunter cat across the rocks.
[ 1500 words ]
