CHAPTER 10
Fireheart held his breath as theTwoleg door opened. He longed for Cloudpaw to turn and run away, but part of him knew that the apprentice1 had no intention of leaving. He leaned forward on his branch, willing the Twoleg to shout and chase Cloudpaw away. Forest cats were not usually welcomed in Twolegplace. But this Twoleg bent2 down and stroked Cloudpaw, who stretched up to press his head against its hand as the Twoleg murmured something to him. By the Twoleg’s tone, it was clear they had greeted each other like this before. Disappointment as bitter as mouse bile pulsed through Fireheart’s body as Cloudpaw trotted3 happily through the door and vanished into the Twoleg nest.
Fireheart stayed clinging to the slender branch of the birch long after the Twoleg door had shut. His apprentice was being tempted4 back into the life that Fireheart had turned his back on. Perhaps Fireheart had been completely wrong about him after all. Lost in thought, he stirred only when the sun began to dip behind the trees and sent a chill through his fur. He slid lightly down to the fence and dropped onto the ground outside.
Fireheart padded back through the forest, blindly following his own scent5 trail back the way he had come. Cloudpaw’s actions felt like a terrible betrayal, yet it was hard to be angry with him. Fireheart had been so eager to prove to the Clan6 that kittypets were as good as forestborn cats, he hadn’t even considered that Cloudpaw might prefer life with the Twolegs. Fireheart loved his life in the forest, but he had chosen it for himself. Only now did it occur to him that Cloudpaw had been given to the Clan by his mother, passed along as a kit7 before he was old enough to make his own decision.
Fireheart trekked8 onward9, numb10 to the sights and scents11 of the forest, until he suddenly realized he had come to his sister’s fence. He stared at it in surprise. Had his paws brought him here on purpose? He turned away, not yet ready to share his discovery with Princess. He didn’t want to tell her what a mistake she’d made in giving Cloudpaw to the Clan. With paws as heavy as stone, he started padding toward Tallpines and the camp.
“Fireheart!” the soft voice of a she-cat cried out behind him. Princess!
Fireheart froze, his heart sinking, but he couldn’t walk away from his sister, not now that she had seen him. He turned back as Princess leaped down from her fence. Her tabby-and-white pelt13 rippled14 softly as she bounded toward him.
“I haven’t seen you for ages!” she mewed, skidding15 to a halt. Her tone was sharp with worry. “Even Cloudpaw hasn’t visited for a while. Is everything okay?”
“E-everything’s fine,” Fireheart stammered16. He felt his voice tighten17 and his shoulders tense with the effort of lying.
Princess blinked gratefully, instantly trusting his words, and touched her nose to Fireheart’s in greeting. He nuzzled her, breathing in the familiar smell that reminded him of his kithood. “I’m glad,” she purred. “I was beginning to worry. Why hasn’t Cloudpaw been to visit? I keep smelling his scent, but I haven’t seen him for days.” Fireheart couldn’t think of what to say, and felt relieved when Princess carried on chattering18. “I suppose you’re keeping him busy with his training,” she mewed. “Last time he visited he told me you were really impressed with his progress. He said he was way ahead of the other apprentices19!” Princess sounded delighted and her eyes shone with pride.
She wants Cloudpaw to become a great warrior20 as much as I do,thought Fireheart. Guiltily he mumbled22, “He shows great promise, Princess.”
“He was my firstborn,” purred Princess. “I knew he’d be special. I still miss him, even though I know how happy he is.”
“I’m sure all your kits23 are special in their own way.” Fireheart longed to tell his sister the truth, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that her sacrifice had been wasted. “I must go,” he meowed instead.
“Already?” Princess exclaimed. “Well, come back and see me soon. And bring Cloudpaw next time!”
Fireheart nodded. He didn’t want to return to the camp just yet, but this conversation was making him way too uncomfortable, as if he were confronting the impossible chasm24 between the forest and kittypet life.
Fireheart traveled the long way back to camp, letting the familiar greenness of the forest calm him. As he emerged from the trees at the top of the ravine, he found himself thinking yet again how much he missed having Graystripe around to confide25 in.
“Hi!” Sandstorm’s voice surprised him. She was climbing out of the ravine and must have smelled his scent. “How was training? Where’s Cloudpaw?”
Fireheart looked at the she-cat’s sharp orange face. Her green eyes shone, and suddenly he knew that he could confide in her. He glanced anxiously around. “Are you alone?”
Fireheart padded to the edge of the slope and stared down at the treetops that sheltered the camp below. Sandstorm sat beside him. She didn’t speak, but pressed her flank to his sympathetically. Fireheart knew that he could even walk away now and she wouldn’t ask any more questions.
“Sandstorm,” he began hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“Do you think I made the wrong decision bringing Cloudpaw into the Clan?”
Sandstorm was silent for a few moments, and when she spoke27, her words were careful and honest. “When I looked at him today, lying outside his den12, I thought he looked more like a kittypet than a warrior. And then I remembered the day he caught his first prey28. He was just a tiny kit, but he went out into a blizzard29 to catch that vole. He looked so unafraid, so proud of what he had done. He seemed like a Clan cat then, born and bred.”
“So I made the right decision?” Fireheart meowed hopefully.
There was another heavy pause. “I think only time will tell,” Sandstorm replied at last.
Fireheart didn’t say anything. This wasn’t the reassurance30 he’d been hoping for, but he knew she was right.
“Has something happened to him?” asked Sandstorm, her eyes narrowed with concern.
“I saw him go into a Twoleg nest this afternoon,” Fireheart confessed flatly. “I think he’s been allowing them to feed him for a while now.”
Sandstorm frowned. “Does he know you saw him?”
“No.”
“You should tell him,” advised Sandstorm. “Cloudpaw needs to decide where he belongs.”
“But what if he decides to return to a kittypet life?” Fireheart protested. Today had made him realize how much he wanted Cloudpaw to stay in the Clan. Not just for his own sake, or to show the other cats that warriors31 didn’t have to be forestborn, but for Cloudpaw’s sake too. He had so much to give to the Clan, and would be repaid more than enough by their loyalty32. Fireheart felt his heart begin to pound at the thought of what Cloudpaw might be about to throw away.
“It’s his decision,” meowed Sandstorm gently.
“It’s not your fault,” Sandstorm interrupted him. “You can’t change what’s in his heart.”
“Just talk to him,” urged Sandstorm. “Find out what he wants. Let him decide for himself.” Her eyes were round with sympathy, but Fireheart still felt miserable35. “Go and find him,” she meowed. Fireheart nodded as Sandstorm stood up and padded away into the trees.
With a heavy heart he began to scramble36 down into the ravine, heading for the training hollow in the hope that Cloudpaw would return to camp the same way he’d left. He didn’t want to confront his apprentice like this; he was afraid of pushing Cloudpaw away for good. But he also knew that Sandstorm was right. Cloudpaw could not stay in ThunderClan and keep one paw in the life of a kittypet.
Fireheart sat in the hollow as the sun dropped behind the trees. The air was still warm even though long shadows stretched across the sand. It would be time for the evening meal soon. Fireheart began to wonder if Cloudpaw would return at all. Then he heard the rustle37 of bushes and the padding of small paws and knew Cloudpaw was approaching even before he smelled his scent.
The apprentice trotted into the clearing with his tail high and his ears pricked38. He was carrying a tiny shrew in his jaws39, which he dropped as soon as he saw Fireheart. “What are you doing here?” Fireheart heard reproach in the young cat’s voice. “I told you I’d be back by mealtime. Don’t you trust me?”
Fireheart shook his head. “No.”
Cloudpaw tipped his head to one side and looked hurt. “Well, I said I’d be back, and I am,” he protested.
“I saw you,” Fireheart meowed simply.
“Saw me where?”
“I saw you go into that Twoleg nest.” He paused.
“So?”
Fireheart was shocked almost to speechlessness by Cloudpaw’s lack of concern. Didn’t he realize what he’d done? “You were supposed to be hunting for the Clan,” he hissed40, anger burning in his belly41.
“I did hunt,” answered Cloudpaw.
Fireheart looked scornfully at the shrew that Cloudpaw had dropped on the ground. “And how many cats do you think that will feed?”
“Well, I won’t take anything for myself,” mewed Cloudpaw.
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m just visiting the Twolegs for food.” Cloudpaw sounded genuinely puzzled. “What’s the problem?”
Seething43 with frustration44, Fireheart growled45, “I can’t help wondering if your mother did the right thing in giving up her firstborn kit to be a Clan cat.”
“Well, she’s done it now,” Cloudpaw hissed back. “So you’re stuck with me!”
“I may be stuck with you as an apprentice, but I can keep you from becoming a warrior!” threatened Fireheart.
Cloudpaw’s eyes widened in surprise. “You wouldn’t! You couldn’t! I’m going to become such a great fighter that you won’t be able to stop me.” He glared defiantly46 at Fireheart.
“How many times do I have to tell you, there’s more to being a warrior than hunting and fighting. You have to know what you’re hunting and fighting for!” Fireheart fought back the fury that rose in his chest.
“I know what I’m fighting for. The same as you—survival!”
Fireheart stared at Cloudpaw in disbelief. “I fight for the Clan, not myself,” he growled.
Cloudpaw gazed steadily47 back at him. “Okay,” he mewed. “I’ll fight for the Clan, if that’s what it takes to become a warrior. It’s all the same in the end.”
Fireheart felt like clawing some sense into the mouse-brained young cat, but he took a deep breath and meowed as calmly as he could, “You can’t live with a paw in two worlds, Cloudpaw. You’re going to have to decide. You must choose whether you want to live by the warrior code as a Clan cat, or whether you want the life of a kittypet.” As he spoke, he recalled Bluestar saying exactly the same thing when Tigerclaw had spotted48 him talking to his old kittypet friend, Smudge, at the edge of the forest. The difference was that Fireheart had had no trouble recognizing where his loyalties49 lay. He had been a Clan cat from the moment he had stepped into the forest, in his own mind at least.
Cloudpaw looked taken aback. “Why must I choose? I like my life the way it is, and I’m not going to change it just to make you feel better!”
“It’s not just to make mefeel better,” Fireheart spat. “It’s for the good of the Clan! The life of a kittypet goes against everything in the warrior code.” He watched incredulously as Cloudpaw ignored him and picked up his shrew, then marched past him toward the camp. Fireheart took a long breath, resisting the urge to chase Cloudpaw out of ThunderClan territory once and for all. Let him decide for himself. He repeated Sandstorm’s words under his breath as he followed his apprentice back to the camp. After all, he told himself desperately50, Cloudpaw wasn’t doing any harm by eating kittypet food. He just hoped none of the other cats found out.
As they neared the gorse tunnel, Fireheart heard the clatter51 of dirt cascading52 down the ravine. He stopped and waited, hoping it was Sandstorm returning from her hunt, but a warm scent on the early evening air told him it was Cinderpelt.
The small gray cat jumped awkwardly down from the last rock. Her jaws were full of herbs and she was limping heavily.
“Are you okay?” Fireheart asked.
Cinderpelt dropped the herbs. “I’m fine, honestly,” she puffed53. “My leg is playing up, that’s all, and it took me longer than I thought to find the herbs.”
“No!” mewed Cinderpelt, shaking her head.
“Okay, okay,” Fireheart agreed, surprised by the strength of her refusal. “At least let me carry these herbs for you.”
Cinderpelt blinked gratefully at him. “May StarClan banish55 all the fleas56 from your nest,” she purred, her eyes twinkling. “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just that Yellowfang is very busy. Willowpelt began her kitting this afternoon.”
Fireheart felt a flicker57 of anxiety. The last kitting he had seen had been Silverstream’s. “Is she okay?”
Cinderpelt glanced away. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I offered to collect herbs instead of helping58.” A shadow crossed her face. “I…I didn’t want to be there….”
Fireheart guessed that she too was thinking of Silverstream. “Come on then,” he meowed. “The sooner we find out how she’s doing, the sooner we can stop worrying.” He quickened his pace.
“Hold on!” winced59 Cinderpelt, limping after him. “You’ll be the first to know if I make a miraculous60 recovery. But for now you’ll have to slow down!”
As they entered the camp Fireheart knew instantly that Willowpelt’s kitting had been a success. One-Eye and Dappletail were padding away from the nursery, their eyes soft with affection and their purrs audible even from this side of the clearing.
Sandstorm came dashing over to greet them with the good news. “Willowpelt had two she-cats and a tom!” she announced.
“How’s Willowpelt?” asked Cinderpelt anxiously.
“She’s fine,” Sandstorm assured her. “She’s feeding them already.”
Cinderpelt broke into a loud purr. “I must go and see,” she mewed, and hobbled toward the nursery.
Fireheart spat out his mouthful of herbs and looked around. “Where’s Cloudpaw?”
Sandstorm narrowed her eyes mischievously61. “When Darkstripe saw what a measly catch he’d brought back, he sent him off to clean out the elders’ bedding.”
“Good,” Fireheart meowed, pleased for once with Darkstripe’s interference.
“Did you speak to Cloudpaw?” asked Sandstorm, her tone turning more serious.
“Yes.” Fireheart’s happiness at Willowpelt’s kitting disappeared like dew under the midday sun as he thought of his apprentice’s indifference62.
“Well?” prompted Sandstorm. “What did he say?”
To his surprise, Sandstorm didn’t seem troubled. “He’s young,” she reminded Fireheart. “Don’t be too upset. Keep remembering his first catch, and that you share the same blood.” She gave him a gentle lick on the cheek. “With any luck it’ll show in Cloudpaw one day.”
Dustpelt trotted up and interrupted them, his eyes glinting with barely disguised scorn. “You must be proud of your apprentice,” he jeered64. “Darkstripe tells me he made the smallest catch of the day.” Fireheart flinched65 as the warrior added, “You’re obviously a great mentor.”
“Go away, Dustpelt,” spat Sandstorm. “There’s no need to be spiteful. It doesn’t impress anyone, you know.”
Fireheart was surprised to see Dustpelt recoil66 as if Sandstorm had taken a swipe at him. The warrior turned and hurried away, flashing a resentful look at Fireheart over his shoulder.
“That’s a neat trick,” Fireheart meowed, impressed by Sandstorm’s ferocity. “You’ll have to teach me how you do it!”
“I’m afraid it wouldn’t work for you.” Sandstorm sighed, staring ruefully after Dustpelt. She had shared her apprenticeship67 with the tabby tom, but their friendship had faltered68 since Sandstorm had grown closer to Fireheart. “Never mind. I’ll apologize later. Why don’t we go and see the new kits?”
She led the way to the nursery, where Bluestar was just squeezing out of the entrance. The old leader’s face was relaxed and her eyes were shining. As Sandstorm slipped inside, she declared triumphantly69, “More warriors for ThunderClan!”
Fireheart purred. “We’ll have more warriors than any Clan soon!” he meowed.
The leader’s eyes clouded, and Fireheart felt a chill of unease spread across his fur. “Let’s just hope we can trust our new warriors better than our old,” Bluestar growled darkly
“Are you coming?” Sandstorm called to him from the warm shadows of the nursery. Fireheart shrugged off his fears about Bluestar and pushed his way inside.
Willowpelt lay in a nest made of soft moss70. Three kits squirmed in the curl of her body, still damp and blind as they kneaded their mother’s belly.
Fireheart saw a new softness enter Sandstorm’s expression. She leaned forward and breathed in the warm, milky71 scent of each kit in turn while Willowpelt looked on, her eyes sleepy but content.
“They’re great,” Fireheart whispered. It was good to see kits again, but he couldn’t help feeling a thorn-sharp stab of sorrow. The last newborn kits he’d seen had been Silverstream’s, and Fireheart’s mind flew instantly to Graystripe. He wondered how his old friend was—whether he was still grieving, or whether his new life in RiverClan with his kits had helped to ease his sadness.
Fireheart felt his tail bristle72 as he picked up the scent of Tigerclaw’s kit. He turned to see where it was, swallowing the distrust that rose like bile in his throat. Behind him, Goldenflower was curled in her nest, her eyes closed and the kits sleeping soundly at her side. The dark tabby kit looked as innocent as any of its nursery Clanmates, and Fireheart felt a pang73 of guilt21 at the resentment74 that ruffled75 his fur.
Fireheart awoke early the next day. Thoughts of Graystripe lay heavy at the edge of his mind like rain clouds. He missed his old friend even more now that he was so worried about Cloudpaw. Talking to Sandstorm had helped, but he longed to know what Graystripe would say. Fireheart lay in his nest for a few moments before he made up his mind: He would go to the river today to see if he could find his old friend.
He slipped out of the den and gave himself a long, satisfying stretch. The sun was only just showing on the horizon, and there was a powdery softness in the early morning sky. Dustpelt was sitting in the middle of the clearing talking with Fernpaw. Fireheart wondered grimly what the brown warrior wanted to share with Darkstripe’s gentle apprentice. Was Dustpelt poisoning her mind with malicious76 gossip? But Dustpelt’s fur lay smoothly77 on his broad shoulders, and Fireheart detected none of the usual arrogance78 in his tone, even though he couldn’t hear what he was saying. In fact the warrior was talking to Fernpaw in a voice as soft as a wood pigeon.
Fireheart approached the pair. When Dustpelt saw him coming, his eyes hardened.
“Dustpelt,” Fireheart greeted him, “will you take the sunhigh patrol?”
Fernpaw’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Can I go too?”
“I don’t know,” Fireheart admitted. “I haven’t spoken with Darkstripe about your progress yet.”
“Darkstripe says she’s doing well,” meowed Dustpelt.
“Then perhaps you could speak to him about it,” Fireheart suggested. He didn’t want to provoke a scornful response, but this could be a chance to smooth out some of the hostility79 Dustpelt usually showed toward him. “But take Ashpaw and another warrior too.”
“Don’t worry,” Dustpelt assured him. His eyes were filled with uncharacteristic concern. “I’ll make sure Fernpaw’s safe.”
“Er…good,” meowed Fireheart, padding away. He couldn’t believe that he’d had a whole conversation with Dustpelt without the warrior uttering a single barbed jibe80.
Once he was out of the ravine, Fireheart raced toward Sunningrocks. The ground was so dry that his paws threw up small clouds of dust where they pounded over the forest floor. When he reached the great stone slabs81, he noticed that the plants growing between the cracks had shriveled and died, and it dawned on him with a shock that it had been almost two moons since it had rained.
He skirted the bottom edge of the rocks and headed for the scent markers at the edge of RiverClan territory. The forest thinned out and sloped down to the river here. The air was filled with birdsong and the whispering of wind-stirred leaves, and in the background Fireheart could hear the steady lap of water. He stopped and sniffed82 the air. There was no scent of Graystripe. If he was going to see his friend, Fireheart would have to venture into RiverClan territory. Determination made him more willing than usual to take the risk. Their dawn patrol would be out, but with any luck they would be patrolling the other borders now.
Fireheart crept cautiously across the scentline and pushed his way through the ferns to the edge of the water, feeling exposed and vulnerable. There was still no sign of Graystripe. Did he dare cross the river and try his luck deeper in RiverClan territory? It would be easy enough—the water was shallow now, so he could wade83 most of the way, apart from the deep channel in the middle, where the current was slow enough to swim without too much difficulty. After all, he’d grown more used to water than most ThunderClan cats during the terrible floods of newleaf.
An unexpected scent drifting into his half-open mouth made Fireheart stiffen84 in surprise. It was the stench of ShadowClan! What were ShadowClan cats doing so far from home? The whole of ThunderClan’s territory lay between their land and the river.
Alarmed, Fireheart backed into the ferns. He inhaled85 deeply, trying to pinpoint86 where the smell came from. With a sickening feeling, he recognized more than the scent of ShadowClan. There was a rancid tang of illness to it that he had smelled recently, and it was coming from farther upriver.
Fireheart began to creep slowly through the ferns, their browning tips whispering against his fur. He could see the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak tree ahead of him, just inside the ThunderClan border. Its twisted roots stuck out of the forest floor, the earth under which they had once been buried long since eroded87 by wind and rain. Now there was a space underneath88, a small cave walled by roots. Fireheart sniffed again. The smell was definitely coming from there, tainted89 by the unmistakeable stench of sickness.
Fear and the desire to protect his Clan made Fireheart instinctively90 unsheathe his claws. Whatever foulness91 was in that cave must be driven out of ThunderClan territory. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, Fireheart raced from the ferns. He arched his back and stood threateningly in the mouth of the root cave, ready for a fight. But he was met by a heavy silence, broken with shallow, rasping breaths.
He stared into the gloom, his hackles raised. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, he blinked in surprise. The last time he’d seen these cats, they’d been disappearing under the Thunderpath, back to their own territory. It was the two ShadowClan warriors who had sought help from ThunderClan—Littlecloud and Whitethroat.
“Why have you come back?” Fireheart spat. “Go home, before you infect every Clan in the forest!” He drew back his lips, baring his teeth, when a familiar voice sounded behind him.
“Fireheart, stop! Leave them alone!”
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apprentice
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| n.学徒，徒弟 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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trekked
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| v.艰苦跋涉，徒步旅行( trek的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指在山中）远足，徒步旅行，游山玩水 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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pelt
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| v.投掷，剥皮，抨击，开火 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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skidding
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| n.曳出，集材v.（通常指车辆） 侧滑( skid的现在分词 )；打滑；滑行；（住在）贫民区 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tighten
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| v.(使)变紧；(使)绷紧 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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apprentices
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| 学徒，徒弟( apprentice的名词复数 ) | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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kits
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| 衣物和装备( kit的名词复数 )； 成套用品； 配套元件 | |
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chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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blizzard
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| n.暴风雪 | |
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reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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mentor
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| n.指导者，良师益友；v.指导 | |
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34
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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43
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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loyalties
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| n.忠诚( loyalty的名词复数 )；忠心；忠于…感情；要忠于…的强烈感情 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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cascading
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| 流注( cascade的现在分词 )； 大量落下； 大量垂悬； 梯流 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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overdoing
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| v.做得过分( overdo的现在分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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fleas
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| n.跳蚤( flea的名词复数 )；爱财如命；没好气地（拒绝某人的要求） | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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bleakly
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| 无望地，阴郁地，苍凉地 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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apprenticeship
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| n.学徒身份；学徒期 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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milky
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| adj.牛奶的，多奶的；乳白色的 | |
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bristle
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| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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75
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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jibe
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| v.嘲笑，与...一致，使转向；n.嘲笑，嘲弄 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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82
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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83
wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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84
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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85
inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
pinpoint
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| vt.准确地确定；用针标出…的精确位置 | |
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87
eroded
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| adj. 被侵蚀的，有蚀痕的 动词erode的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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88
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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89
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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90
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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91
foulness
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| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
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