Seedscatter crept along the dusty floor of the toolshed, his yellow eyes narrowed decisively. His ears flicked left and right as he picked up the scuffling of mice, fat and lazy in their relative safety. The whole place reeked of droppings and corpses, the latter of which made annoyance prick at the tom with unwavering steadfastness. 

Today, he wasn't on a hunting patrol. No, he had needed some one-on-none time to think. Or, better yet, maybe to just let his thoughts fall away all together. The sharp smells of metal and the musky contrast of old wood gave him the scrap of clarity that he needed to even make such a simple decision.

His newfound levelheadedness was almost corporeal. It whispered to him from his shoulder, hissing to him which floor boards his broad paws should avoid. Navigating two-leg structures was a skill that all apprentices learned, and he had been exceptional at the nonsense patterns long before more pressing, more nonsense issues had dragged him by his ear fur away from the simpler things in life. He shook his head. Seedscatter was here to focus on the present, not the past (nor the future, for that matter). 

At the back of the shed, a monster loomed over the scattered twoleg junk, making the rest of the tools seem insignificant in its majesty. Though it wasn't the size of a fully grown monster, it was still huge. Its hide gleamed a dark green through layers of dust and wear. The sides of its pelt were sliced with a cold, shocking yellow. Powerful talons lay sheathed underneath one of three massive black paws. Seedscatter knew the dangers of those claws, how they could whir and slice anything in their path. Along the walls, tools that could have been useful once now rusted from their hooks down. Neither weeds nor herbs had begun their invasion of the space yet. This left the shed feeling cramped and barren. 

Despite this, the shed was safe, and soon Seedscatter was drawn away form his careful evaluation. The squeaks of rodents tempted the mind, and he could already taste fresh food on his tongue. Mouse happened to be one of his favorites. Luckily enough, the place was crawling with them.

Seedscatter crept over to one of the monster's paws, sniffing experimentally at the oddly textured surface. Little hairs crawled across each foot, and the tom inched closer to inspect them. He was drawn back, a hiss catching in his throat and his nose stinging. His ears folded back against his head, the deputy backed away to investigate elsewhere; no mouse in its right mind would nest in that.

Mouse holes were more his speed. Waiting, muscles tense, eyes blown wide with anticipation - it all brought him back to his apprentice-hood. He remembered countless training session with his old mentor, Rabbitskip, a bob-tailed she-cat who tended to be a little too unafraid of cuffing him over the ears for messing up an easy leap-and-hold or botching an important catch. She used to pit him and Goosewing against each other right in this very spot in a competition to see who could catch the most prey before sundown. Seedscatter remembered fondly how he and his sister used to try and make each other laugh to trip the other sibling up.

In his reminiscing, Seedscatter failed to notice the small brown face that peered up at him from  within the confines of its den. Upon the realization that he wasn't alone, Seedscatter slowly fell down into a hunter's crouch. Deep at the back of his throat, he trilled at the creature gently, calling to it like queens did to kits. Sure enough, the creature crept forwards a pawstep. One back, three forwards, two back, one forwards; it was unsure, but steadily progressing. There wasn't even enough time for it to squeak in alarm when Seedscatter swept his paw out and ended the mouse's life.

He sent a quick thanks up to StarClan then. He felt a purr of satisfaction rumble deep within him at his catch. The clan needed as much food as it could get, and he was glad that he was able to make this contribution.

He was in the shed for the rest of the afternoon, investigating each nook and cranny in the wood and underneath the different twoleg items. He felt a pang of remorse at leaving the place, jaws stuffed with mice, and he looked over his shoulder for longer than necessary as he left. It had been fun to get away for a bit, and the bustle of clan life would probably shock the serenity from his mortal body.

The camp clearing was quieter than normal when he got back, and Seedscatter quickly gathered that the dusk patrol had recently left. In his clanmates' place, Harestar paced the clearing. It seemed that she hadn't noticed him enter. 

He felt his pride die in that very moment.

Soon enough, the dappled she-cat looked up from her frantic muttering, and her eyes locked onto Seedscatter, who was already making a hasty retreat to his nest.

"Where were you?" She hissed, making her way over to her deputy with long, swift strides. Seedscatter imagined that he looked quite like a sparrow might in the talons of a hawk. Behind him, Thistleflower snickered from the prey pile and his suspicions were confirmed.

Seedscatter didn't answer for a long while. He took his time placing the fat mice at his paws, and then meowed quietly, "The toolshed."

Harestar visibly stiffened. "That place is off limits!" She cried out, and several cats looked up from what they were doing in her outburst.

Quieter, this time, she added, "You of all cats know that much!"

It was true, Seedscatter had been the one to tell the clan to stay away from his favorite spot. The shed had been unstable, and the sheer amount of cats visiting and taking prey had made the population scarce. But it had been a moon or two since he had made the proclamation, and cats were already suffering as it was. 

He was about to state his side of the story when Harestar's steely gaze stopped him in his tracks. She was a beautiful she-cat, tall and lean with thick, short fur that fanned out around her cheeks like petals around a flower. Her eyes were narrowed now, though Seedscatter could still make out the warm amber tones and, at her close vicinity, short white lashes lacing across them like the strands of a spiderweb. 

"My den. Now." The icy calm in her tone had shivers creeping up his spine.

The walk to the barn was torture. Harestar seemed to be the only cat who wouldn't look at him. His clanmates, however, saw no problem in downright staring. Stoneclaw gave him an apologetic look as he passed, but Seedscatter could not hold his friend's gaze. Embarrassment flushed in his ears, making them uncomfortably warm. His dappled companion didn't appear to have noticed the attention they had drawn; if she did, she didn't give two rat tails about it.

It was one of the reasons she had become leader, in Seedscatter's opinion. She was never deterred. In their apprenticeship together, he could not remember a single time she had even been embarrassed. Her urge to do the right thing, her skill in leadership and battle - all of these qualities had made her the best candidate for deputy. Some silently argued that it was also the way that she could keep her emotions in check. But Seedscatter had grown up alongside Harestar, and he knew her like he knew himself. She wasn't all that concrete. He just wished that their communication nowadays didn't always have to be on such unfavorable terms.

Harestar seemed to be heading towards her nest on the far side of the room, though she thought better of it and wheeled around. In the hazy lighting of the cattle stall, her eyes glowed like two golden moons.

"What were you thinking? What if something had happened?" Harestar looked him over, almost as if she expected some vital organ to give out as the words were spoken.

Seedscatter looked at his paws, which were absently brushing at a stray bit of straw. He desperately wished that they would carry him away. They refused to move.

"I wasn't thinking," he murmured back. The words felt bland in his mouth.

"No, you weren't." Harestar replied hoarsely. "Learn your lesson for once, Seedscatter. You are neglecting your duties to skip off to some adventure in forbidden territory. Now please get out of my den."

Seedscatter looked up sharply, a protest already boiling in his chest. She was treating him like a disobedient kit that had strayed too far from the nursery. The words died on his tongue, replaced by shame. He didn't feel guilty any more, not like he had outside. He was just upset that so little trust had been placed in him. He turned to leave, whiskers twitching with indignation.

"The clan is in shambles!" He cried out suddenly, stopping in his tracks. "Our cats are hardly getting enough to eat, let alone drink. The shed is practically begging to be hunted in, and mice thrive among the twoleg scraps. Cats are going to start dropping like flies if we- no, if you don't take action! There are kits to think about, and apprentices and warriors too. For StarClan's sake, Cloudleap is al-"

Uh oh.

"'Cloudleap is al-' what, might I ask?"

Harestar's expression prompted a responce, and Seedscatter knew there was no getting out of this confession. Inhaling deeply, he met her eyes with his own.

"Cloudleap already has one paw in a shallow grave."