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Firepaw’s gaze was conflicted, though Sandpaw couldn’t make out what he was feeling. Guilt? Embarrassment? Resolve? Sandpaw almost felt self-conscious for snapping at him. Almost.
The ginger tom took a deep breath before speaking again. “This…this is my mother’s home.”
Dustpaw scoffed. “Your mother? The kittypet?”
“Of course she’s a kittypet,” Firepaw argued back, a hint of anger in his voice. “There is nothing wrong with being a kittypet.”
Sandpaw interrupted Dustpaw before he could make another scathing remark. “How do you know this is your mother’s? Have you been sneaking out to visit her?”
“Traitor!” Dustpaw snapped with a hiss.
“I am not a traitor!” Firepaw shot back, his pelt slightly bristling but he forced his fur to flatten. “I remember her scent from when I was younger. She smelled like…dew drops. And rabbit.”
“Rabbit?”
Firepaw flicked his gaze towards the wooden fence. “Her owner’s kits have rabbits. I remember seeing them in the yard couped up in a thin fence.” He took a step back towards the forest, away from the fence. “Please, let’s continue to hunt elsewhere.”
“Why?” Dustpaw challenged with a sharp frown. “Those rabbits should be easy prey, and we have a duty to feed the Clan. That should come first over Twolegs.”
“I know the rabbits mean a lot to the owner’s kits,” Firepaw argued. “And my mother will get upset if those kits are upset. We cannot hunt here.” He turned to Sandpaw, his eyes pleading. “I know you don’t trust me. I know you whisper behind my back. That you think I’m still a kittypet and I’ll never become a warrior. But we can’t steal from Twolegs.”
“You sound like you have loyalty towards them,” Sandpaw noted with narrowed eyes.
Firepaw lifted his chin defiantly. “I have loyalty towards those I care about. With every breath in my body. Is that not what being a Clan cat is about?”
She mused Firepaw’s words for a few heartbeats. There was a flash of something in Firepaw’s eyes that made her hesitate, and she saw what kind of warrior he could one day become. A warrior with fierce loyalty and honor for his Clan.
“Come on, Dustpaw,” Sandpaw remarked with a flick of her tail. “We can hunt elsewhere.”
“What?” the tabby argued loudly, but Sandpaw cut him off before he could continue.
“Do you really want to waste our hunting talents catching prey that can’t escape?” Sandpaw reasoned. “We’re better off catching squirrels elsewhere.”
As Dustpaw grumbled and disappeared into the ferns, Firepaw smiled. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Don’t make me regret it,” Sandpaw huffed. As Firepaw followed Dustpaw, Sandpaw heard the scrabble of claws on the fence behind her. A tabby-and-white kittypet was perched on top, gazing fondly at her, before she disappeared beyond the fence.