Aki190101

The tender meat filled Weaselpaw’s taste buds as he chewed his meal. He was bored. Bored and only slightly lonely. Here he lay, all on his own, in one corner of camp, watching his clanmates busily go about their day or share tongues. The tom sighed and put his rabbit down, staring at it. It didn’t seem very appetizing all of a sudden. It was a huge rabbit, and he’d caught it all on his own, but the victory seemed hollow now. Where was Sparrowpaw? Weaselpaw had seen his brother less than usual lately, but they still always ate together anyway. He hadn’t seen his littermate since the early morning hunt, and the sun was w

"Okay, you go on that side. I'll stay here. Keep low." ordered Sparrowpaw. Weaselpaw nodded silently, and sprinted in a circle away from his brother, keeping the radius between him and the rabbit's nest big. Once he was on the far side the hill, facing the grey-brown tom, he crouched, readying his long legs for the hunt. The ginger and white tabby had grown accustomed to his legs by now. The rest of his body had grown, and he was no longer clumsy. In fact, he mostly returned from hunts with more than one rabbit. His pelt was standing on edge, and his tail was lashing with anticipation. The critter would come out of its hiding any time now,

“What do you smell?” Badgerstripe asked his apprentice. Sparrowpaw looked at him in admiration, before sticking his head up, closing his eyes and sniffing.
“You can observe him, Weaselpaw.” Aspenfur whispered. Weaselpaw nodded, looking at his brother. “I can smell…I can smell…hmm…” Sparrowpaw seemed to be thinking deeply. His grey-brown forehead was wrinkly. “I can smell cats?” he spoke hesitantly, looking at his mentor for approval. Badgerstripe purred with amusement. “Indeed” he answered. “How old is the smell?” “How old?” echoed Sp

Weaselpaw awoke in his den. He stretched and yawned. That’s right, he thought. He was Weaselpaw now. Not Weaselkit. He was an apprentice. An apprentice for two straight days, yet he still hadn’t been outside camp as of yet. Maybe today was the day? He looked to his side. Sparrowpaw wasn’t next to him. He probably woke up first, as usual. The ginger and white tabby walked out of the apprentice den on shaky legs. They were too long for his smaller body. He had to focus his attention on his tail to keep balance. The sun stung his blue eyes. He blinked hard and looked down. The ground was warm beneath his paws. Starclan had been

Weaselfoot waited till the dusk had settled over Windclan-camp. He waited until he could hear the snoring of Sparrowclaw at the opposite side of the den, indicating that his brother was fast asleep. He snook out of the den, looked to both sides, and concluded that no cat saw him. He slowly padded through the shadows, with his sights on the exit of camp. Just as he approached it, a familiar voice sounded behind him. 
«Weaselfoot?» said the voice. Weaselfoot spun around, and saw Dawnwing right behind him, giving him a worried look. Weaselfoot stuttered, not knowing where to place his paws. «Are you sneaking out?» the