Welcome to the second installment of my Echoing Flames series. As always, I don't own Warriors, although if we're being honest, I definitely should. Just kidding.

A cool breeze ruffled Fireheart's fur as the first light of dawn cracked the sky. He shivered slightly, his paws working the earth. Despite the chill in the air, the flame-colored tom felt nothing but unbridled pride. After moons of training, he was finally a full warrior of ThunderClan.

Silently, he reflected on the victory against ShadowClan's leadership yesterday, Brokenstar's eyes glittering, fixed on him as he disappeared into the forest after his followers. The former ShadowClan leader had reigned terror over the other Clans as well as his own, stealing kits to train as warriors even though they were much too young. Most of the time, his harsh training methods had resulted in their deaths–though Fireheart knew that it hadn't been an accident. He had even driven WindClan from their hunting grounds. Brokenstar had been a dark shadow in the forest ever since Fireheart had left Twolegplace behind to join the wild cats.

Fireheart wondered how long it would take for Brokenstar to return. Before fleeing ShadowClan's camp, he had made it clear that he intended to return one day. It was too soon now, of course. But what about in a moon or two? Only time would tell.

The rest of the camp was beginning to stir now. Fireheart watched as his Clan leader pushed her way out, her long blue-gray fur glowing almost silver in the dawn light. The ThunderClan deputy, Tigerclaw, emerged from the warriors' den moments later and met Bluestar at the edge of the clearing. He murmured something urgently to her, flicking his tail. Fireheart wondered what they were talking about, but he didn't dare ask for fear of breaking his vow of silence. Instead, he nodded respectfully as the two cats passed him. Tigerclaw walked on by without a second glance, but Bluestar paused and gave him a look as she passed. The pride in her gaze sent a tingle of warmth down Fireheart's spine, yet he couldn't suppress the familiar sense of confusion he felt whenever Bluestar treated him as if he were special or something.

Beside him, Sandstorm nudged Fireheart and pointed up with her nose. An orange glow was just visible on the horizon.

"Glad to see the dawn, you four?" Whitestorm's deep meow took Fireheart by surprise. He hadn't seen the white warrior approaching. The four new warriors nodded silently.

"It's alright, you may speak. Your vigil is over," Whitestorm meowed kindly. The great white warrior had fought side by side with them against ShadowClan, and more so, he had been one of Fireheart's closest friends ever since his arrival in ThunderClan. Fireheart sometimes wondered if Whitestorm knew more about Bluestar's behavior towards him than he let on.

"Thank you, Whitestorm," Fireheart meowed gratefully. He stood up and stretched his legs as the older warrior padded away.

Sandstorm and Graystripe pushed themselves up as well. "Brr!" the gray warrior shivered. "I thought the sun would never come up!"

"Oh, please," Sandstorm scoffed playfully. "With fur as thick as yours, I'm surprised you even feel the cold."

"Yeah, mind lending me some?" Fireheart asked jokingly.

"You need more than extra fur to keep you warm, Fireheart," Ravenflight meowed. It was true. With the poor eating habits he'd developed as a kittypet, Fireheart was much thinner than even most forest-born cats. He had gained a bit since joining the Clan, but his weight was still a concern to his friends.

A sneer sounded from the apprentices' den. "The great warriors speak!"

Fireheart turned his head to see Dustpaw crawling out from the fern bush where the apprentices slept, a look of disdain on his face as he stared at his former denmates. Out of the five apprentices, he had been the only one not to receive his warrior name the previous night. In a way, Fireheart couldn't help feeling sympathetic. He had been training longer than both Graystripe and Fireheart, yet Dustpaw was left as an apprentice while the two younger cats became warriors.

Then he shook his head, reminding himself that it was Dustpaw's own fault he was being left behind. The brown tabby had refused to accompany them on the mission to rescue Frostfur's kits, calling it a waste of time. If he had chosen to go on the mission, he would have been made a warrior along with the rest of them.

Dustpaw stalked over to the fresh-kill pile, throwing the ginger tom a look of pure hatred as he passed. Fireheart twitched his whiskers but didn't say anything, and Sandstorm rolled her eyes. Before he joined the Clan, she and Dustpaw had been close friends. They were kin, not littermates like Dustpaw and Ravenflight, but closely related. But after Fireheart's arrival, Sandstorm had taken an instant liking to him and her friendship with Dustpaw had turned sour. Fireheart might have felt guilty if Dustpaw weren't the most spoiled, insufferable cat to walk the forest.

"I hope Darkstripe has him chasing blue squirrels all day!" Graystripe hissed.

"But there aren't any blue squirrels," Fireheart pointed out, confused.

"Precisely!" Graystripe's eyes gleamed.

"You can't exactly blame him. He did begin his training before you two," Ravenflight pointed out mildly. "If he'd been in the battle yesterday, he probably would have been made a warrior with us."

"That's his problem," Sandstorm meowed nonchalantly, echoing Fireheart's thoughts. "He's the one who said he wasn't going to come."

"Well, with Darkstripe as his mentor, he'll probably never become a warrior anyway," Fireheart meowed, half-joking.

"True," Graystripe meowed in agreement. "Hey look, two mice and a chaffinch to share!"

They padded over to the fresh-kill pile and picked up their prey when Ravenflight's eyes suddenly gleamed. "I suppose we take this to the warriors' side now," he purred.

"I suppose we do," Fireheart echoed.

The four warriors took their food over to the clump of nettles where Whitestorm and the other senior warriors ate. Settling themselves down nearby, Graystripe and Ravenflight tucked into their mouses while Sandstorm sat down next to Fireheart to share the chaffinch with him. Despite not eating since the previous day, however, the flame-colored warrior didn't have much of an appetite. Nevertheless, he forced himself to swallow a few bites so as not to worry his friends.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think I could sleep for a moon," Graystripe meowed, yawning.

"I think I'll go out for a bit, actually," Fireheart replied. He was feeling awfully restless for some reason and wanted to get out of the camp to calm himself. Besides, it was the first time he'd been awake after a battle and only a sign from StarClan would convince him to spend the day sleeping.

"Suit yourself, then," Sandstorm meowed, flicking him affectionately with her tail. "Don't blame us if you fall asleep on your paws, though!"

Rolling his eyes in amusement, Fireheart turned and walked toward the gorse tunnel that led out of the camp while Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Ravenflight retired to the warriors' den. The sun was rising steadily, but it was still nowhere near its peak. If he hurried, he could get a decent hunt in, take a short nap when he arrived home, and then be ready for a sunset patrol.

A mouse was scuffling through some leaves. Quickly, Fireheart dropped into a crouch and began to creep towards it. Before it had time to sense him, he leaped forward and nipped it on the back of the neck, killing it instantly.

"Good catch."

The mouse still clutched in his jaws, Fireheart turned around to see Bluestar and Tigerclaw striding towards him. He set it down and dipped his head respectfully to his Clan leader and deputy.

"What are you doing out here?" Tigerclaw's voice, though not as unfriendly as usual, held none of the warmth that Bluestar's praise had. "Shouldn't you be sleeping with your friends?"

"I didn't feel like sleeping," Fireheart replied, feeling a prickle of resentment. Tigerclaw was behaving as if he were wasting time. "This is the first time I haven't passed out after a battle and I wanted to do something other than nap all day."

"Well, make sure you're back in camp by sunhigh and sleep then. I want you fresh and ready for either a sunset or a water patrol later," the deputy growled.

Fireheart bit back an angry retort and simply meowed, "Yes, Tigerclaw." The large tabby nodded and stalked away.

"Never mind him, Fireheart," Bluestar meowed soothingly. She had seen the annoyance in his gaze when Tigerclaw spoke to him. "You're doing fine. But please do make sure you get some sleep. It's important, you know. I don't want you making yourself sick on your first day as a warrior."

"I will, Bluestar," Fireheart promised. His former mentor nodded to him and turned to follow her deputy.

After she had gone, Fireheart buried his mouse and continued with his hunt. The prey seemed to be moving slower than usual this morning, and it didn't take long for him to rack up a respectable load. He killed a squirrel that was burrowing around for some food and glanced up at the sky. It was nearly sunhigh.

Time to get back home, Fireheart thought.

Picking up his prey, the ginger warrior carried the load back to the camp, where he deposited it in the fresh-kill pile. Suddenly aware of how tired he was, he headed for the warriors' den. His friends were still sound asleep, and Mousefur was just pushing her way out when he arrived. She nodded to him in greeting and allowed him to step inside. There was an empty nest next to Sandstorm, and the smell told Fireheart that no one had used it. Yawning, Fireheart curled up amongst the moss and allowed a wave of sleep to claim him at last.