Shrikepaw witnessed Leopardpaw sneak out of camp without anyone noticing. She wished she could go whenever she pleased without being noticed, but Pigeonscreech was always watching her like a hawk. Her mother was the overbearing type, but Shrikepaw knew Pigeonscreech just wanted the best for her. And she could only be the best with her mother pushing her to be. However, she was exhausted. When she wasn’t training with Cinderflame, she was training with Pigeonscreech. Her mentor was much gentler than her mother. Pigeonscreech liked to shout and shove while Cinderflame preferred a softer method of teaching. Shrikepaw found relief at night, when she could escape her mother’s watchful gaze in the warmth of the apprentice den, but she always dreaded waking up the following day just to repeat the day before. She loved her mother, she truly did, but Pigeonscreech pushed too hard sometimes.

With a glance around camp to make sure nobody was watching her, Shrikepaw followed Leopardpaw. She didn’t want to be stuck in camp all day, either. Pigeonscreech had just left with a hunting patrol, Cloudwhisker was probably busy padding after some she-cat, and she had no clue where Cinderflame was. Since none of those three were anywhere in the clearing, Shrikepaw was confident she could sneak away without being caught. She was stopped halfway across camp by an older warrior who asked her where her mentor was. She lied about how she’d been tasked with fetching moss to change nests with and the older warrior nodded in approval before walking away. Quickly, before anyone else could stop her, Shrikepaw left camp, breathing a sigh of relief the moment she slipped out of the clearing. The last thing she’d wanted to do was chores when hunting sounded like a much better activity.

She hadn’t intended on stumbling upon Leopardpaw. It was totally unintentional. Shrikepaw had just been walking through the forest, heading for one of the better hunting spots in the territory, and the next thing she knew, Leopardpaw was glaring right at her. They must’ve been heading for the same area. As her half-sister spoke, Shrikepaw simply rolled her eyes. “Not everything’s about you, Leopardpaw. I didn’t want to run into you.” Leopardpaw continued, mentioning Pigeonscreech, and Shrikepaw replied, “Of course Pigeonscreech would appreciate my company. Mothers tend to enjoy spending time with their children. Oh, that’s right, you wouldn’t know.” With a lazy flick of her tail-tip, Shrikepaw went on, “But I don’t need to spend every second of every day with my mother. I’m my own cat. I imagine you wouldn’t know what that’s like, either, though. I’ve seen how you pad after Antlerpaw and agree with everything he says. You think you’re friends? You’re nothing more than his pawn.”

When Leopardpaw erupted into dry laughter, Shrikepaw recoiled slightly in surprise. She hadn’t expected that response, but she recovered quickly, pinning her ears back and scowling at her half-sister, eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. As Leopardpaw verbally attacked her, Shrikepaw remained silent, though she made sure her detest for the other she-cat was very clear in her expression. Despite what she’d said, it was true that she remained glued to her mother’s side, but she’d hoped Leopardpaw wouldn’t address her lie. What Leopardpaw didn’t seem to know was that Shrikepaw’s feelings for her mother were more complicated than she could comprehend. She loved her mother, as most kits do, but she also hated how Pigeonscreech was constantly dictating her every move. Why didn't she rebel against her mother? She would tell anyone who asked that there was no reason to, but deep down, she knew it was because she was scared of turning her back on everything she’s ever known, and even deeper down, she knew it was because she was afraid of Pigeonscreech. Shrikepaw’s mother was a ruthless cat.

Shrikepaw watched Leopardpaw closely as the younger molly began to stalk around her, lowered close to the ground like she was hunting prey. Her muscles tensed and the fur along Shrikepaw’s spine stood erect, unnerved by the idea that she was prey, but she continued to glare at Leopardpaw despite feeling a tad unsettled. While she prepared for a potential attack, she also listened to Leopardpaw claim her mentor didn’t care what she did. She listened to her whine about not having support from those who should have her back. And she listened as Leopardpaw insulted her, bringing up Pigeonscreech again. Shrikepaw was more focused on the torbie’s actions than her words, however. She heard what Leopardpaw was saying, but they barely registered. She was expecting an attack, so when Leopardpaw paused behind her, she knew what was coming next. Leopardpaw moved to lunge at her and Shrikepaw whirled around before dropping into a defensive position, curling her lips back in a fierce snarl.

But Leopardpaw didn’t actually lunge. Shrikepaw felt fury rush through her and she immediately stood tall again, tail lashing wildly behind her. She shoved her anger down and tried to remain somewhat calm, her tail slowing to a halt. She was the superior one here, after all, so she shouldn’t stoop down to Leopardpaw’s level. “Yeah, I should’ve known you don’t have the courage to follow through with an attack. You do what you want? No cat bosses you around? Then you shouldn’t be afraid of a fight.” Shrikepaw tilted her head slightly and adopted a look of fake pity on her face. “That is, unless you can’t do whatever you want.” She paused to chuckle before going on, “You think you’re all that? Well, you’re not. Time to grow up, Leopardpaw, and face reality. You’re nothing. Pigeonscreech doesn’t want you, Cloudwhisker doesn’t want you, and I don’t want you. We never have and never will. And if you actually think Antlerpaw cares about you, then you’re more of a fool than I thought.”

Discovering that Cloudwhisker had approached Leopardpaw to offer her bonus training lessons was, at first, a shocking and upsetting revelation. Why hadn’t Cloudwhisker come to Shrikepaw before Leopardpaw? Sure, she usually chased him away with stinging remarks and sharp glares, but shouldn’t she still be his priority? Shouldn’t he make every effort to connect with her, no matter how often she rejected him? Just a heartbeat or two after Shrikepaw felt anger rush through her, she also realized that maybe Cloudwhisker had faith in her abilities, which would explain why he hadn’t offered to help her with her training. Her father must know she was better than Leopardpaw and didn’t need the extra help. After all, Leopardpaw spent all her free time with her friends, but Shrikepaw worked relentlessly.

Pigeonscreech worked Shrikepaw harder than any other apprentice in the valley. It was exhausting, but she knew her mother just wanted the best for her… right? After she finished a training session with Cinderflame, Pigeonscreech would usher her right back to the hollow for more lessons. Her mother had told her - not asked - that she’d become a guardian, the best guardian RidgeClan’s ever seen. But becoming the best didn’t just happen, no, Shrikepaw would have to work twice as hard to get there. Sometimes, she wished Pigeonscreech would back off and let her breathe, but she’d never dare to say the words to her mother’s face. She’d never dare to say the words to anyone’s face in fear of them getting back to her mother.

And then Leopardpaw suggested that Cloudwhisker didn’t like Shrikepaw and she tried reminding herself that her father wasn’t worth involving in her life, but deep down, she wanted her father to like her. She wanted to have a relationship with her dad, but Pigeonscreech had taught her that she shouldn’t want that, and so Shrikepaw convinced herself everyday to dislike Cloudwhisker. Before she could give her half-sister’s statement much more thought, Leopardpaw was lunging at her. Shrikepaw froze in surprise for only a moment and then she jumped to the side. As Leopardpaw landed, Shrikepaw whirled around and leapt in the other she-cat’s direction, coming down within a whisker-length or two of her. Swiftly, she reared up on her hind legs and swiped relentlessly at Leopardpaw’s face with unsheathed claws, and despite her rage, she was careful to avoid the younger she-cat’s eyes - but everywhere else was fair game.

[ athletics roll ] 22

Leopardpaw’s ear-splitting shriek brought Shrikepaw back to reality. She’d been so blinded by her fury that she hadn’t realized how severe her attack had been. She’d seen red, angered by Leopardpaw’s remarks and then by her half-sister’s attack, but as she blinked, the red refused to go away. It streamed down Leopardpaw’s face and Shrikepaw’s gaze followed the rivers of blood to the sources - claw marks that she had put there. Horror froze her in place, eyes wide and mouth agape as she struggled to comprehend what she’d done. Leopardpaw collapsed, but she seemed to fall at a reduced speed, like Shrikepaw had slowed down time. The younger apprentice’s body hit the ground hard and Shrikepaw could only continue to stare, her own body stiff with shock. As the blood began to pool around Leopardpaw’s head, she looked up at her and as much as Shrikepaw wanted to avert her eyes, she couldn’t force herself to move.

“H-how… How could you?” Leopardpaw rasped and Shrikepaw felt nothing except shame rush through her at the sound of the other she-cat’s weak voice. She should’ve known better than to pick a fight with Leopardpaw and she should’ve known better than to unsheathe her claws. Shrikepaw was training to become a guardian, after all. She was bulky and strong, a skilled fighter. Leopardpaw hadn’t stood a chance. And she’d unsheathed her claws during a fight against not only her clanmate, but her half-sister. Cinderflame had told her to never harm a clanmate. Oh no. What was Cinderflame going to say? What would Mushroomstar do? Pigeonscreech would probably praise her and she’d pretend to bask in it, but she’d feel guilty about it, because she didn’t think wounding Leopardpaw was something to celebrate. She was more afraid of Pigeonscreech than she was remorseful for what she’d done to Leopardpaw. She was sorry, of course, very sorry, but her mother’s wrath was scarier than anything else.

“I- I didn’t mean to,” Shrikepaw managed to respond. She hesitated to take a step in Leopardpaw’s direction, lightly pressing her toes against the ground before pulling her paw back when she figured the last thing her half-sister wanted was for her to approach. “I didn’t mean to,” she repeated, voice thick with emotion, silently begging Leopardpaw to understand. Shrikepaw’s legs shook beneath her and just as she became sure that they were about to give, she swiftly dropped into a crouch. She knew she didn’t deserve Leopardpaw’s forgiveness and that she’d probably never get it, but the idea of living with this regret for the rest of her life was distressing. The guilt she felt for bullying Leopardpaw since they were kits, a feeling that she’d buried deep within so Pigeonscreech could never see it, rose to the surface. I’m sorry, Leopardpaw. I’m so sorry.