The warrior code is my life. It is my heart and my soul and every breath I take. Without the warrior code, without StarClan and my Clanmates... I am as good as dead.
"Uurgh!" Acornpaw huffed through a mouthful of fur. "Flowerpaw, grrtoff!!"
"Say 'mouse' first," she sang, giddy with triumph. Her paws held down the other cat's limbs. Her long, fluffy fur tickled him everywhere. He hated it.
"Mouse," Acornpaw spat, resentful of his defeat. "Happy, now?" Flowerpaw got off and trotted a few mouse-lengths away.
"That pretty much proves it," she chirped.
"Proves what?" Acornpaw growled, smoothing his ruffled fur.
"Raintail is a better mentor than Smallstorm." Acornpaw's head shot up.
"Is not!" He bristled, defending his mentor. Smallstorm was the greatest! "Smallstorm could beat him in a fight!"
"Could not," Flowerpaw retorted, feathery tail waving. "I bet Raintail would beat him in the first few heartbeats."
Acornpaw's hackles rose, his tail fluffed out. "That's stupid!" he spat.
"It's true. We'll just see who becomes the better warrior." Flowerpaw's eyes glinted. She turned with a sweep of her tail and trotted away towards the leader's den.
That's it. Run off to see Daddy, Acornpaw growled. You're his baby. He'll probably make you the StarClanforsaken deputy! Acornpaw shook his head.
"Acornpaw! Time to go." Smallstorm! The small gray tom was standing near the fern tunnel, his tail high. "Coming!" Acornpaw called, trying to act like an excited apprentice, off to his first fighting evaluation.
"That was some tussle," Smallstorm scoffed as they headed out of camp. Acornpaw gulped. Had he seen the fight with Flowerpaw? Great StarClan, had he heard them arguing? Smallstorm meowed, "Flowerpaw nearly squished the living daylights out of you!"
Acornpaw let out his breath. "Oh... yeah." He tried to act sheepish, but he knew that it wasn't his fault. Flowerpaw was bigger than him, older by three moons.
"Don't worry," Smallstorm assured him as they scrabbled up the ravine. "When you're both full-grown, odds are you'll be bigger than her. Toms usually are. Just be patient."
"Yes, Smallstorm," Acornpaw huffed as they reached the top.
"Until then, you and Brownpaw are a good scuffling pair. He and his mentor are waiting at the sandy hollow." Smallstorm led the way, weaving between the familiar trees.
Acornpaw knew the path well. The sandy hollow had become like a second camp to him since apprenticeship. He and his brother, Brownpaw, and their sister, Seedpaw, spent every spare moment practicing their fighting moves. They were small for their age, having been born half a moon early, so they were eager to catch up.
"Hi, Acornpaw!" Brownpaw chirped as his brother appeared out of the brush. Brownpaw's mentor, Pebblenose, was by far the best mentor in the Clan. He was really patient and encouraging, and he understood young cats, however old he was.
"Hey, Acornpaw. Grab a seat," Pebblenose called. Acornpaw settled himself on a tree root next to Brownpaw.
Pebblenose looked at Smallstorm. "What move are we doing today?"
"I was thinking a two-moon evaluation," Smallstorm shrugged. "To see what they've learned." Pebblenose nodded agreeably.
"Sounds perfect. Come here, young toms." He motioned with his tail. Acornpaw and Brownpaw shared a glance. Acornpaw saw his own excitement shining in his brother's eyes. Good luck!
The two cats, one dark brown and one reddish-brown, climbed down into the hollow, planting their paws on opposite sides of it, facing each other.
"Just to make it even play," Smallstorm said. "Brownpaw, you be RiverClan. Acornpaw, you be WindClan. Remember your lessons, follow your instinct. Trust your strengths." Pebblenose nodded. The two apprentices were to nervous to nod.
"Fight," Pebblenose whispered.
Acornpaw stiffened. Brownpaw, the RiverClan warrior, let out a screech and flung himself into the air. Acornpaw cringed, terrified at the sight of his bristling opponent. He dodged the pounce, shoving Brownpaw with both forepaws just before he hit the ground. Brownpaw tumbled away and rolled to his paws.
The tips of his claws had poken out, but he quickly sheathed them so he wouldn't hurt his brother. I'd like to see you try, growled Acornpaw, the WindClan warrior.
"Come and get me, fish-face!" Acornpaw yowled, using an insult that was reserved for RiverClan. He braced himself as Brownpaw raced toward him. Acornpaw planned to dodge again, but Brownpaw swerved at the last moment and bowled Acornpaw over, pinning a paw on his neck as he hit the sand.
"Not fast enough, flea-bitten rabbit-chaser?" Brownpaw snarled. A WindClan battle insult! Acornpaw thought with a surge of exhilaration. He felt his hind paws urging to kick, and gave in to the instinct. His paws pummeled Brownpaw's belly, then hooked under the other cat's rib cage and sent him flying backward across the clearing. Acornpaw jumped to his paws in triumph.
Brownpaw lay winded on his side, dazed. Acornpaw bounded over to pin his neck and claim victory.
But Brownpaw lay unresponsive in the sand. He lay there for a long time, eyes closed. "Brownpaw?" Acornpaw's voice cracked. Was he really hurt? StarClan, forgive me!
"Ha!" Brownpaw flung Acornpaw away with a shove from his forepaws. He was back on his feet as Acornpaw stumbled, tail waving in triumph.
Brownpaw reared up on his hind paws, forelegs churning the air as if he were batting Acornpaw's nose. Recovering quickly, Acornpaw reared up himself, discovering that he was just as tall as Brownpaw, and then it was a battle of who-gets-knocked-onto-all-fours-first. The challange was to stay on two paws and scratch and bite your opponents face and shoulders.
"And... stop," Smallstorm ordered. The two brothers fell down onto all-fours in unison. They were brothers again, faced with the judgment of their mentors after an assessment. Did we do okay? Acornpaw wondered anxiously.