[Guess who's not working on Rebirth?

Instead, have this short little fic that has lots of time skips.

I play Untold Tales, and I got an apprentice the other day. I spent most of my time yelling at the screen "Goodness Fogpaw, that frog was THREE INCHES AWAY and you still missed it? You're hopeless!"

And so, Blueheart's persona was decided. I don't really get a chance to show her side much since the story is mostly from Fogpaw's view, so she seems like a total jerk. But she's really not. She just doesn't think weak cats should be allowed to stay in ShadowClan.]

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here for a Clan meeting!"

Rotstar's yowl echoed through camp, stirring his warriors from their half-asleep grooming. After a few moments, the small Clan congregated around their leader, who stood in the center of the clearing. The deputy, a light brown tom called Jaggedtooth, took his usual place at the front of the crowd. The medicine cat and her apprentice sat down off the the side, allowing the warriors and apprentice to sit in the middle.

"Today," Rotstar continued, "we are going to acknowledge one of our youngest Clanmates. Fogkit has reached his sixth moon, and it is time for him to become an apprentice."

There were a few hushed whispers, but Rotstar's glare quickly silenced them.

"Fogkit, come forward," the black tom commanded, motioning at the kit with his tail.

The gray tom was very small. He was the size of a four-moon-old kit, not an apprentice. Even so, Tornfeather, his adoptive mother, had insisted he become an apprentice on time. Ever since Fogkit's father had brought him to ShadowClan when the kit was three moons old, Tornfeather had become fiercely protective of him, even though she was already expecting kits in a few moons. Fogkit's mother had died during the birthing process-Fogkit and his two siblings had been born prematurely-and his father thought it best to give him to cats that could care for him. His siblings had been stillborn, and it was a wonder the little gray tom had survived at all.

"From this day forward, until he has earned his warrior name, this apprentice will be known as Fogpaw. Blueheart," Rotstar continued, nodding to the blue tabby she-cat at the front of the group. She stood and padded up to the newly-named Fogpaw, gazing down at him with contemplative eyes. "You will be Fogpaw's mentor. I trust you will pass on all the skills to your new apprentice."

While the assembled cats began to chant Fogpaw's name, Blueheart crouched slightly and Fogpaw stretched up as high as he could so he could touch his nose to hers.

Three uneventful days had passed since Fogpaw's naming ceremony. The little gray tom sat down with a huff, spitting out a scrap of moss. After hauling the stuff in and out of camp since sun up, he was exhausted. Sure, Blueheart had helped him out by showing him the best places for moss and how to gather it, but about the time they were to start replacing bedding, she'd been needed for a patrol. Which left him to change the bedding all by himself, since Rockpaw, the only other apprentice, was busy guarding the camp with his mentor, Shadefur.

It was around sunhigh now. Fogpaw twisted around to groom the moss from his fur while he waited for his mentor to return.

He managed to clean a bit of his fur before Blueheart arrived, trotting past him and dropping a thrush on the fresh-kill pile. Fogpaw jumped to his paws, ready to train. His mentor turned to him, tail twitching.

"I suppose we'll be given a chance to train now," she grumbled, clearly upset about having missed time to teach the young tom. Had she been able to help with the bedding, Fogpaw would have finished ages ago.

She headed for the camp entrance, waving her tail for Fogpaw to follow. The little tom hurried along, taking two or three steps for every one she took. "The faster we get you trained, the sooner you can stop being so useless."

He was used to those sort of comments by now. Blueheart was the same way around Rockpaw, though not as harsh, since he had a few moons of training already. She acted so disapproving so the apprentices would try harder to get her approval. But Fogpaw was beginning to think the blue tabby she-cat didn't like him in particular due to his size; she was never this harsh with Rockpaw, at least from what he could tell. She thinks I won't be a good warrior, Fogpaw realized. Well, I'll prove her wrong!

When he finally caught up to his mentor, she was talking with Eaglepelt, a big brown tom Fogpaw looked up to. He was always so cheerful and kind, and he didn't treat Fogpaw any differently from Rockpaw due to his size.

"I promised Fogpaw we'd go training. Can we eat together later?" Blueheart asked him, turning her head to the side just a bit out of embarrassment.

"Of course. See you then," the brown tom replied with a smile, waving his tail in farewell as Blueheart led her apprentice out of camp.

Fogpaw was still young. He had no real interest in she-cats other than as friends. But a blind rabbit could see there was something going on between Eaglepelt and his mentor. Perhaps it'll make her less angry about being stuck as my mentor.

Fogpaw practically had to run to keep up with the tabby she-cat. It was bad enough he was so small. But of course Rotstar had to make the longest-legged cat in the Clan his mentor. The training space was empty when they arrived. Fogpaw heard his mentor mumble something about not being embarrassed about teaching him, but he ignored it. He was learning to fight like a warrior today, after all!

"Alright, Fogpaw. Let's start with the basics. You've already got a decent hunting crouch. Time to learn how to utilize it in battle."

The gray tom nodded seriously, dropping into a crouch at once. He tucked his paws in close and stretched his tail out behind him. Blueheart crouched a few fox-lengths away from him, her eyes giving away her approval for a heartbeat before she hid it. "Now, instead of clawing or biting when you hit the ground, start swiping just before you touch down, like this." Blueheart leaped forward, set to land a couple of tail-lengths away from her apprentice. She kicked her back legs down so she would land feet first before swinging a fore paw around in a powerful side swipe. Using the momentum from her landing, she was able to put more force into the downward blow with her other paw.

After the move was complete, she continued speaking. "Remember to aim for the ears on the downward slice, not the head. Now, you try," she ordered, stepping out of his way to observe him.

Fogpaw wriggled his hind quarters before pouncing, kicking his legs to land back paws first like his mentor had shown him. But he put too much of his weight into his side swipe, causing him to lose his balance. Blueheart sighed while he stood and shook out his fur.

"You had a good start, but you need to learn how to control what little weight you have. Until you learn such a simple thing, you have no place on the battle field."

"I understand. Can we practice some more?" Fogpaw asked, ignoring the negative comment from his mentor and instead focusing on the compliment she started with.

"Alright, but not for long. It's almost dinner, and we need to fatten you up fast so you can grow." At his mentor's words, Fogpaw couldn't help but smile. It wasn't very often his mentor spoke to him like that. He could detect the fondness in her voice. Before she could see his grin, he crouched low to hide his face.

Time for more battle training!

Three moons had passed since his apprentice ceremony. Fogpaw had grown some, but not much. At least he looked like a fresh 'paw instead of a tiny kit. His fur was even sleeker, more like Rockpaw's. The little gray tom looked up to his senior. Rockpaw was really fast, and treated Fogpaw like a little brother. It reminded him of his carefree days in the nursery. Back then, no one expected him to fight and hunt like a warrior. No one expected him to be able to keep up with the bigger cats. It was just him, Tornfeather, and her newborn kits. They were just starting to wonder why waited for them outside camp when he was assigned to Blueheart.

And speaking of Blueheart, she seemed to be gaining weight. Just the other day, when they were hunting, her growing belly had slowed her down and caused her to miss the frog she was after. Fogpaw cringed, remembering the hunt from the day before his mentor's slip-up.

He crouched low, flattening his ears as he observed the thrush. It had no clue he was there, just a few tail-lengths away. He took a step toward it. He could have pounced from where he was, but he wanted to be sure to catch it; Blueheart was watching, and Fogpaw wanted to impress her. His paw snapped on a twig, alerting the thrush. Fogpaw flung himself forward, trying desperately to claim his prize, but to no avail. His claws managed to steal a feather, but the bird darted away, shrieking in outrage.
Blueheart sighed in exasperation. "Fogpaw, you're so hopeless!"

It had hurt, receiving such a harsh comment from the blue tabby warrior. She was a well respected cat, after all, and did what ever she could to further ShadowClan, even if it meant purging it of weakness. And Fogpaw had begun to suspect she'd chase him away herself if he failed to become a warrior.

But today would be different! Fogpaw had overheard Jaggedtooth talking about a ThunderClan invasion; those mangy forest-dwellers claimed that a ShadowClanner had stolen their prey, and now they were coming to exact revenge.

And Fogpaw was going to get to join the patrol! Though only as a messenger, in case the warriors needed back-up. Even so, he was excited.

Tornfeather was busily licking his ears outside the nursery, voicing her worries.

"Are you sure you want to go? No cat would blame you for staying behind. ThunderClan warriors are huge, bigger than me even."

Fogpaw dipped his head and wiggled away, embarrassed.

"I'll be alright. I'll tell you all about the battle when I get back, okay?"

Tornfeather sighed lovingly and nodded, watching as her adopted son hurried out of camp with his mentor. The patrol had left without them.

Please be okay, little one.

She had a bad feeling about this battle, but she knew there was nothing she could say to keep her little tom in camp. She recalled Blueheart's profile, noting the other she-cat's rounded belly. She has no business fighting. Blueheart was expecting kits, and Tornfeather would bet the fattest piece of prey on the pile the litter was Eaglepelt's.

Fogpaw could see the intruders, already locked in battle with two of his Clanmates. There were only four ThunderClan cats, three warriors and an apprentice. Blueheart let out a battle yowl and surged forward, knocking one of the warriors away from a black ShadowClan tom. She sunk in her claws and rolled away with the burly forest tom, hissing and spitting her rage.

The apprentice spotted Fogpaw and charged at him, snarling visciously. The little tom started backing away, remembering his orders, but stopped. ShadowClan warriors never run away!

He dropped into a crouch and sprang, swinging his back feet down. The ginger ThunderClan apprentice darted backward to keep from being kicked. This put him in just the right place to get his cheek clawed by Fogpaw's left paw and his ear shredded by his right. Now back on all four paws, Fogpaw surged forward, unbalancing his opponent when he tried to back away. The gray tom managed to get a decent blow on the other apprentice's belly before he was thrown backward by the ThunderClanner's greater weight.

Fogpaw hurried to his paws just as an emmense weight plowed into his side and threw him almost a fox-length away. It was one of the ThunderClan warriors that had been fighting one of his Clanmates. Blueheart was running to help, yelling curses as she charged. Fogpaw could pick up 'fox-hearted coward' and 'attacking an apprentice less than half your size', and he was too preocupied by the huge white tom looming over him with teeth bared to pay attention to the insults. As the tom lunged forward, time seemed to slow down, and Fogpaw came to a terrible realization.

Blueheart wasn't going to reach him in time.

The ThunderClan tom sung his teeth into Fogpaw's neck. The ShadowClan apprentice managed a small, strangled cry, blood bubbling around the wound. Almost at once, his attacker let go and staggered backward.

"I-I didn't mean to! I swear I-" His mew of panic was cut off as Blueheart plowed into him, knocking him face first into the dirt. Blueheart, far too furious for words, let out a shreik and clawed at his spine until he was begging for mercy. But even then, she did not let go. The ThunderClan apprentice bit down hard on her tail and started tugging, but the blue tabby ignored the pain and kept on clawing the white tom until on of her own Clanmates pulled her off of him so he could flee with the rest of the ThunderClan patrol.

Fogpaw tried to get to his paws, but he found they were far too heavy. His vision was blurring, but he could make out his mentor's blue shape as she bent over him, giving his forehead a lick.

"Oh, Fogpaw..."

Her voice was begining to grow faint. He tried to raise his head, to reasure her he was going to be fine, but he was too dizzy and too tired to speak.

"I'm so sorry. You're a great apprentice, truly. No matter what I said, know that I couldn't have asked for a better..." He strained his hearing, trying to catch her words, but his ears failed him.

But it was okay, because his neck didn't hurt anymore. He wasn't dizzy either. Slowly, Fogpaw stood, face lighting up. "Blueheart, it's okay! I'm fine, honestly-" He broke off in shock when he spotted the figure lying on its side, blood pooling around its head.

It was him. He was the one lying there. And he was dead.

Blueheart really did like me. I knew it! He just hated that he had to die to find out. Maybe, had he become a warrior, he would have gotten to see her gaze at him, for once not shrouding the emotion in her eyes. Her voice wouldn't hold bitterness or disappointment. He would have gotten to hear the words he'd longed to hear from her for so long, since he first became her apprentice. The four simple words she'd never spoken once in his presence.

'I'm proud of you.'

He'd always dreamed it would be the sweetest moment of his life, even better that when Rotstar made him an apprentice on time instead of making him wait and grow.

But maybe his leader should have waited. If he had, Fogpaw might have been big enough to hold off that white tom until Blueheart could reach him. He might still be alive...

He watched, invisible to his Clanmates, as his mentor pressed her nose to his fur and gently closed his eyes. He could sense their greif as the picked up his body. Would there be a vigil held for him, even though he wasn't a warrior? Even though he was so small? So often over-looked? The Clan always payed attention to the senior apprentice. Rockpaw went to almost every Gathering. Few cats even looked his way when Rockpaw was around.

"There's no reason for me to be bitter now," he mewed, following the patrol. To his surprise, he found he could walk at a leisurely pace and keep up with them. Sure, they were walking slowly as the borne him body home, but he still would have had to jog every so often to keep up. If I was alive.

"You are not bound to the earth anymore, Fogpaw."

The voice startled him, but for some reason, it was familar. He'd never heard it before, and yet... He had. At least it felt that way. A voice on the wind, maybe.

"I am called Foxheart." Fogpaw kept walking, but glanced over his shoulder, eyes following the ginger she-cat as she fell into step beside him. "I was once a ShadowClan warrior, seasons and seasons ago."

Fogpaw smiled sadly. "Then... Are you here to lead me to StarClan?"

Foxheart nodded, just once. "After your vigil starts, we will go," she replied, her voice tinged with sorrow.

They receached the camp far quicker than it usually took Fogpaw. Around him, the Clan was yowling in distress as Blueheart gently lowered his body to the ground. Tornfeather moaned her pain, long and low, and burried her nose into his fast-cooling fur.

"Oh, my son, my brave, brave son," she whispered, closing her eyes and shaking.

As the Clan gathered to pay their respects, Blueheart shared the events of the battle. He tuned it out for the most part; why listen to a story when you already know the ending?

"-fought that apprentice like a warrior. The apprentice threw him off... And that's when the white tom struck. A ThunderClan warrior murdered Fogpaw."

The gasps of outrage and the lacrymose expressions showed him his Clanmates cared for him far more than he'd thought.

Crowfang, the black tom that had stopped Blueheart from tearing the ThunderClanner to shreds, added, "And I bet he bears the scars Blueheart gave him for the rest of his life."

Fogpaw could see the unspoken response on his mentor's face.

I should have killed him. You shouldn't have stopped me.

Rotstar quieted his Clan with a wave of his tail. It was time to light Fogpaw's path so he could go to StarClan.

"StarClan, I ask that you protect this apprentice. He is joining you far to soon. I pray Fogpaw finds good hunting, swift running, and shelter where he sleeps."

After the words were spoken, Rotstar touched his nose the the fallen apprentice's head. A wave of peace washed over Fogpaw.

As Tornfeather, Rockpaw, and Blueheart settled around his body, he sat down with them, smiling softly.

"We... We were going to hunt together tomorrow. It was a group assessment," Rockpaw murmured, ears flat.

I'll be cheering you on, Rockpaw!

"I couldn't have loved him more if he was my blood son," Tornfeather cried. Rockpaw brushed her shoulder with his tail to comfort her.

And I couldn't have loved you more if you were my blood mother.

Fogpaw stole a glance at his mentor. Blueheart's head was bowed. Slowly, he looked to his body, opened her mouth, and spoke the words he thought he'd never hear.

"Fogpaw, you were never hopeless. Never useless. I... I was so proud of you. You always tried your best to prove you were just as good as any other cat. I'll always be proud of you."

Joy blossomed in his heart. Foxheart smiled warmly at him. "It's time to go, dear one," she murmured, looking to the darkening sky. The first stars of Silverpelt were appearing.

Fogpaw nodded and turned back to his grieving Clanmates. He brushed against each one, letting them know he heard their words. Each cat seemed to shiver when they picked up his scent.

"Thank you. For everything," he meowed, his voice sounding like a sigh of wind. The three cats looked up in shock. But he didn't stick around to see their reaction.

He was busy climbing the stars beside Foxheart, leaving his Clan behind as he ascended to the stars, where he would watch over them until the end of days. He would be there when Thornkit and Duskkit became apprentices. He would be the first to cheer Rockpaw's warrior name.

And he would be the stern voice to drive Blueheart to run faster and strike harder from now on.