Vol. 1/6 ✅️
"Your future - it is a path entwined with thorns. They try to grab you, to pull you into the deepest thicket - and they will succeed. You don't have the power to change your destiny completely, Larkpaw. The only thing you can do is not t...
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Fernpool's and Sootfeather's plan for the first day was that they would lay a trail through the territory for their apprentices, which they were to follow as quickly and efficiently as possible.
The fact that they hadn't decided on a territory tour had confused Larkpaw. The thought alone had made her feel queasy and she had wondered if this was a common custom in RoseClan or if the two warriors had come up with that idea on their own.
Now the sun was almost at the highest point of the sky; time for Larkpaw and Amberpaw to set off. They climbed up the Birchtunnel and found themselves in the forest.
"I almost forgot what it looks like here." Larkpaw spun round once on her own axis.
"We haven't been out here a second time since we arrived," Amberpaw added, checking the air with her mouth open. "Sootfeather's scent leads this way."
Larkpaw looked in the direction Amberpaw was pointing. "That's where the ravine is, isn't it?" She reluctantly remembered the sight of the swift river between the narrow rock walls.
Amberpaw's fur bristled. "Oh no," she whispered in a hoarse voice. "I hope I don't have to cross it."
"I'm sure it won't be like that," Larkpaw meowed. "Sootfeather certainly wouldn't put you in danger on your first day."
Amberpaw raised her head timidly. "I guess you're right."
I hope so too. "We'd better get going," Larkpaw urged. "We don't know how long the trail will be." The apprentice sniffed her surroundings. "It looks like Fernpool went in a different direction. I guess that means we'll have to split up."
"Good luck!" Amberpaw called after her quietly before Larkpaw disappeared into the thicket.
All right, always follow Fernpool's scent trail. It can't be that difficult.
The path seemed easy for a while. Apart from a few small detours to avoid obstacles such as bushes or tree stumps, the trail led relatively straight ahead.
Again and again, Larkpaw allowed herself to look around and memorise the surroundings. In this part of the forest, where she was currently staying, there was less ground cover than further down and the ground, which usually rose most of the time, was flat.
A patrol trotted in the distance. Larkpaw thought she could recognise Mothspark, Mottlepaw's mentor, with his white pelt.
Fernpool's scent trail led straight to a large, unusually silvery rock that protruded lonesomely from a hollow.
