"Hey Flamefeather, do you want to try and train our apprentices together?" asked Vineheart to her brother.
"Sure! I bet that Beechpaw and Snailpaw would love to train together," responded the ginger tom. He muzzled her fur affectionately, then went to wake his apprentice, Snailpaw. The mottled gray she-cat walked over to the mouth of the medicine cat den, where her apprentice was talking to Longsky (the Clan's medicine cat) about a bellyache. The brown tabby tom gave Beechpaw a few herbs, he quickly lapped them up, and joined Vineheart at the front of the den.
"Hi, Vineheart. What will we be doing today?" asked the cream tom.
"Me and Flamefeather were thinking of doing a battle training session together," Vineheart answered.
Beechpaw's eyes lit up at the prospect of training with his brother. "Great! Let's go!"
They soon reached the training hollow. After teaching the two toms a few new battle moves, they decided to let the two have a 'fight'. The winner, best of three, would earn first pick of the prey pile- after the queens, elders, and warriors, of course.
"Remember, claws unsheathed and no biting the other cat. No serious injury. If one of you has to go to the medicine cat's den because of this, then the other one will be disqualified or worse. If you can pin the other cat down for ten second, you win the round," Vineheart reminded the two. "Three, two, one, start!"
The first round was over when Snailpaw pinned down Beechpaw for about seven seconds, but didn't quite win. Beechpaw rolled over and was able to keep Snailpaw down for the full ten seconds. The next round, Snailpaw won. The final round took longer than the other two, but Beechpaw ended up winning.
"Good job, both of you," Flamefeather praised. "You're turning into fine warriors. Let's head back to camp, shall we?"
"Oh, you're finally back," exclaimed the deputy, Swiftfall. "Let's see, Vineheart and Beechpaw, you can go out hunting with Adderstorm," he adressed, nodding to the brown tabby tom. "And Flamefeather, take Beechpaw, Yewface, and Larknose on a patrol along the border with Twolegplace. Make sure that those kittypets don't keep messing in Clan territory." The grey-brown apprentice was already be Flamefeather's side, but the ginger tom padded over to the warriors' den. Out appeared a brown spotted tom and a brown tabby she-cat. Vineheart thought it was wise for Larknose to come with; she was probably the most gifted scent tracker in the Clan. However, the Clan also needed to be fed. Gathering up her patrol, they headed out. Soon, Vineheart spotted a mouse and dropped into the hunters' crouch, pouncing, and deftly killing it. She was able to do the same with a squirrel. Beechpaw caught two mice and a rabbit (near WindClan's border), which was the most of anyone.
"Well done, Beechpaw. You have amazing talent," praised Vineheart. "Now, let's get back to camp. We don't want to keep the Clan hungry!"
The patrol trekked back to camp, dragging their prey behind them. Like Vineheart, all of the cats in ThunderClan were impressed with Beechpaw's skills.
"I think you two might be ready for your warrior assessments soon. Vineheart, Flamefeather, could you two address that tomorrow?" Cypressstar asked. Both Beechpaw and Snailpaw's eyes widened in excitement.
"Is he joking?" Beechpaw asked. But the reddish-brown tom was as serious as he ever was.
"You deserve it," he responded.
The next day
"Beechfang! Snailclaw! Beechfang! Snailclaw!" the Clan cheered. Vineheart couldn't stop herself from smiling as her former apprentice's eyes shone with pride. He had excelled in his assessment, and truly deserved to become a warrior.
"As per Clan tradition, you two will sit vigil tonight. We welcome you as full warriors of ThunderClan!" reminded Cypressstar.
Vineheart padded into the warrior den and curled up in her bed of moss and dry bracken. Her brother, Flamefeather, was curled up next to him, and soon- from exhaustion more than anything else- she soon fell asleep.
In the morning, she walked over to the fresh-kill pile. Picking out a thrush, she went into the warriors den to see if she could share with her brother, but the ginger tom wasn't in there. She padded to the clearing of the camp, and began to eat the thrush. However, after eating abut half, she pushed it away. She was nervous about her brother. He hated early patrols. Vineheart spotted Swiftfall and rushed over to him.
"Have you seen Flamefeather?" she questioned.
The mottled, dark brown tom looked sympathetic. "Sorry, no. I didn't send him on patrol. I'll keep an eye out for him, though. In the meantime, would you like to go on patrol? Take the two new warriors and Beeface to the WindClan border."
"Sure," responded Vineheart. She summoned the two new warriors, and then Beeface, a golden tabby with a white splash on his face. They patrolled the border, set new scent marks, and ran into a WindClan patrol; but there was no trouble. When they returned to camp, Vineheart expected her brother to be there waiting for her. But there was no sign of Flamefeather, and Swiftfall said he hadn't seen him.
He wasn't there by sunfall, either. Vineheart was getting quite worried if he would even come back at all. What happened to him? Where did he even go?
She didn't realize how worried she was acting until she noticed that her pelt was fluffed out. Sleetfoot, a gray tabby tom, pressed his nose to her fur. "Wherever he is, he'll be okay. You know how good of a warrior Flamefeather is. He would be fine," he tried to reassure her.
But that doesn't explain why he left! she wanted to yowl. But maybe... maybe Sleetfoot was right. She would long for her brother for a while, but after a bit she would have to be a worthy warrior again.
One more day, Vineheart resolved. I'll wait one more day, and then after that I'll have to go back to being a warrior.
Two days later
"Vineheart, you might want to see something. Just please don't get to upset," begged Beechfang after coming back from patrol.
"Very well then," Vineheart responded, rising up from the den. "What is it?"
They padded through the forest. "Um... well, it's sad. Terrible, really, but-"
Beechfang was cut off by a yowl from Vineheart, shocked at what lay in front of her. A ginger tom lay, with blood welling up in his neck. Even though it was about seven fox-lengths in from the WindClan border, there was a strong WindClan scent on the body, with claw marks near the neck and dusky brown hairs. There was only one cat in WindClan who had hairs like that.
"Duskcloud," she muttered underneath her breath, so that Beechfang couldn't hear the accusation. Duskcloud, a dusky brown tom. Not many cats knew that Duskcloud hated Flamefeather, but Vineheart did. And, when she saw those hairs on her brother's pelt, she knew who it was. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize she was alone.
"Duskcloud. You killed my brother. I will get you for this, Duskcloud. I will."
And then she picked up her brother's body and brought it back to camp for vigil.
Word count: 1,253