Chapter Fifty Eight

Muscles rippled beneath her pelt as Birdpaw studied the path ahead of her carefully. Her white and gray pelt blended in almost perfectly with the snow-covered forest. Birdpaw used that to her advantage while she stalked through the sparse undergrowth. Though the undergrowth had begun to dwindle away, the trees had become thicker and larger with each passing tail-length. Birdpaw knew that Birchpelt was hiding around somewhere, waiting for the perfect chance to strike.

She kept low to the ground, whiskers twitching in anticipation as she tasted the air. Her tail flicked with amusement when she finally picked up Birchpelt's scent. Though her mentor tried disguising her scent by rolling in the snow earlier, Birdpaw was still able to pick up the faint, familiar scent

Gotcha, she thought after bunching her muscles together.

Without warning, she suddenly pounced on her target. A purr escaped her throat when Birdpaw heard a mrrow of annoyance when she landed on top of her unsuspecting mentor.