Otter Harbour

Creekfeather had no intention on the young apprentice being part of his ambitions. Ha, this child thought that he'd make him deputy? Maybe for a day, then he'd slaughter the threat with his own claws. But where did the mottled tom get the inference that he was planning to kill his mother? And why was he putting ambitions before his family? Maybe the young cat was a bit like him, but he didn't want him spreading rumors.

"Don't you talk like that!" The oriental turned to the apprentice, acting superbly, "How dare you question my loyalty to Lilystar!" His tail flicked back and forth. "One more word about any traitor in this Clan and you'll be cleaning all the dens in camp and checking every cat for ticks!"

The gray tabby's teeth were barred in a snarl, he wanted to make sure Oakpaw had no thought that he was to kill Lilystar and take the reins of OceanClan. He wouldn't be surprised if the apprentice shrunk under his scolding, it would be odd if he didn't. The scarred left eye of the tom made him even more gruesome to look at. "Now watch closely." His words were cold.

Creekfeather crawled silently into the salty water, and waded calmly to a jagged rock only a few feet away from where Oakpaw should be standing. His fur was now sleek and glossy, his ears laid back as he crouched low. The silvery, gray stone matched the tom's pelt color, blending him in.

Before you could say "mouse", an otter swam to the surface with a shell in its paws. It turned over on its back, exposing precious belly flesh as it cracked open the clam. Creekfeather's legs tensed and he leapt foward, landing on the otter and pushing it beneath the surface. A tussle of spashes and fur was all that was visible until the warrior's head bobbed up with a big, limp brown body in his jaws. As he reached the bank, he pushed his legs harder until he was onto the wooden beams next to Oakpaw. The oriental dropped his prize and nodded to the large otter, "Try it."

Creekfeather had already been frustrated enough, and to see a first day apprentice succeed in catching an otter when he only meant taste the one he'd caught, made him even more mad. When the oriental looked over to his apprentice, and saw the glare Oakpaw was giving him, he snarled, "Go back to camp. No training out here in the territory until you can learn some respect." His one blue eye watched the apprentice, waiting until he left.