Starpaw stood at the edge of the ravine, the wind tugging at her fur. The nursery felt like a lifetime ago. Now, the weight on her shoulders wasn’t the scent of milk, but the responsibility of a Clan apprentice. “Focus, Starpaw,” their mentor’s voice broke through the rushing sound of the wind. Starpaw shifted her weight, feeling the damp moss under her claws. She wasn't just looking at the sky anymore; she was learning to read the earth. The forest was no longer a wall of scary shadows, but a map of scents and sounds. A squirrel chattered nearby, and Starpaw’s ears twitched instantly toward the noise. “Your crouch is too high,” the mentor observed, circling her. “You’re a cat, not invisible. If you stand like a stump, the prey will see you before you even smell it.” Starpaw flattened her belly against the ground, feeling the cold sting of the earth. She remembered the stars from her kithood—how they felt like they belonged to the sky. Now, she realized that to be a warrior, she had to belong to the forest floor first. With a sudden burst of energy, Starpaw lunged. She didn't catch the squirrel—it vanished into the oak roots with a flick of its tail—but Starpaw didn't feel that small this time. She felt fast. She felt sharp. She felt like the Starpaw of the Clan.
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