Jaypaw scowled, it was so unfair, all the other cats treated him differently, as if he was still a helpless kit. But he wasn't helpless – he was an apprentice!

He snorted at the thought, as if. No, he was a medicine cat apprentice, and he had to convince everyone it was the best thing this side of Starclan, and he enjoyed it. But he couldn't even convince himself that, it was total and utter fox dung.

All he did was stay in camp, sorting leaves and berries, he had to look after the elders and act oh-so kindly towards the clan. Well they could go choke on crowfood for all he cared; he hated being a medicine cat, being blind and having to talk to his stupid warrior ancestors.

He stared grumpily into a pool of water on the ground, seeing his reflection staring back at him, with cloudy blue eyes and scrawny black shoulders – ugh!

A familiar scent shrouded him, putting him in a worse mood, "Go away, Spottedleaf, I hate you, and all of Starclan," he mewed, keeping his gaze down.

"Jaypaw," her voice stung his ears, even though it was a tuneful as a birds, "You are a medicine cat! Stop this behaviour, or we will have to stop it for you."

Jaypaw smirked at the threat, "Just try!"

As the forest around him faded into darkness, he felt a light drizzle splatter on his pelt, so he was back then.

As he went about his normal medicine cat tasks, loathing every minute, he began to wonder exactly what Spottedleaf had meant, how could a bunch of dead cats make him respect them?

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The camp was wet with the drizzle, unusual for this time of the year, as Poppypaw padded out of the apprentice den. The wind ruffled her fur, but the edge had gone from it and it was only a warm breeze now.

The apprentice gave a big stretch and checked the sun – sunhigh. She winced, feeling slightly guilty that she had slept so late, but Thornclaw would have woken her if she were needed.

Poppypaw padded over to the fresh-kill pile, sniffing at the prey. She chose a mouse and settled down to eat it, hungrily swallowing it in a few bites. After eating, she felt more awake, and decided to see what the other apprentices were doing.

Padding back into the den, she saw her sister, Honeypaw curled up, tail over her nose. Poppypaw prodded her with a foot, trying to wake her.

"No, Sandstorm, not more hunting! Nooooooo!"

"Shhh," mewed Poppypaw, "It's me, not Sandstorm, you daft furball!"

Honeypaw blinked her eyes open, "Oh, what do you want?" she mewed.

"Where are the other apprentices?" asked Poppypaw, checking there were no more cats sleeping in the den.

"No idea," Honeypaw mewed, yawning, "Is that all? I need more sleep."

The light brown cat rolled over, proving her point as her breathing evened out.

Poppypaw licked her shoulder, then reversed back out of the den, blinking in the sunlight.

Glancing round the camp, she couldn't see any of the apprentices, or smell them. There might be some in the elders den, she thought, and padded over.

Mousefur and Longtail looked up at her then lowered their gaze disinterestedly.

Poppypaw looked around, seeing if any of the others were lurking in the shadows, but she couldn't see any.

"Have you seen that Jaypaw?" rasped Mousefur, irritated, "he said he'd do our ticks, but he isn't here!" she sighed as Poppypaw shook her head, "Well, go tell him to come!" mewed the old brown she-cat, "and hop to it, I've got one just where I can't reach it."

Poppypaw hurried out and over to the medicine cat's den.

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Jaypaw scuffed up the dirt with his paw, he could tell by the sun's warmth that it was sunhigh already and he still hadn't done the elders' ticks.

Groaning inwardly he started to sniff out the mouse-bile, when he caught Poppypaw's scent, and a few heartbeats later heard her pawsteps approaching.

"Jaypaw," she mewed, her voice like grass in a greenleaf breeze, "The elders wanted to know if you were ready to see to their ticks?"

Jaypaw's thoughts blackened, "Tell them to do it their self, those mangy cats, always fussing, do my ticks, Jaypaw, I'm cold, Jaypaw, What about my bedding, Jaypaw? Jaypaw, Jaypaw, Jaypaw! Well, I'm sick of it, you do it!"

He heard a gasp from Poppypaw, but he didn't care, why did he have to look after the elders like a normal apprentice? He was the medicine cat apprentice! Not by choice, either. He'd give anything to see, to be able to race through the forest without fear of trees, to stalk prey without worry. I hate my life! He shrieked inwardly.

"Go on, take it yourself!" he spat.

He felt Poppypaw's warm gaze harden, "Fine," she sniffed, an edge to her voice, "Good luck when Leafpool finds out."

Jaypaw glared at her retreating figure, until he couldn't hear her anymore, then curled up, feeling wretched.

A scent filled his nostrils, and he shook his head angrily to clear it, "You can't visit me when I'm awake, you mangy furball," he hissed, knowing it was Spottedleaf, "Come back at night."

He heard fur swish as the tabby cat's head shook from side to side, "Jaypaw, maybe life is unfair, but it is your duty to care for all the clan as if they're your kits."

Jaypaw snorted. Kits? Toms didn't have kits! "I'm a tom!" he spat indignantly.

"Yes, and Tom's still have kits, they just don't give birth to them," Spottedleaf snapped, gentle tone gone, "Now, I know you are blind, but that does not mean you didn't have to be a warrior…"

Jaypaw cut her off with a hiss, "Yes, it does, you said so yourself!" he mewed, "Now leave."

With that, he stuck his paws into his ears to keep out the voice of the infuriating cat.