As Dieselpaw scrambled through the brush he opened his jaws to scent the area. Spring! Attacked again? "Ow!" He grumbled before he pounced on his attacker. "Dieselpaw, you furball! It's me!" said a scruffy mocha-colored pup. "Scruffpaw?" said Dieselpaw dumbly "Dag nab it! I've been side-pounced twice today!" he huffed. "Already?" said Scruffpaw. "Already." replied Dieselpaw moping. "It's all right Dieselpaw! You'll be a great warrior, you'll see!" Scruffpaw said encouragingly "Yeah, yeah, I know." Dieselpaw agreed. "How are Tabbyflower's kits?" asked Scruffpaw, who had a soft spot for the mewling balls of fur. "Annoying and noisy, the usual." said Dieselpaw playfully. Scruffpaw laughed. "It's her first litter, right?" he asked "It's her second, Stormypaw was in her first. He's almost a warrior! Isn't that the coolest?" Dieselpaw asked "Yeah, the coolest!" Scruffpaw replied. Dieselpaw was more hostile to the canines than other cats. And, though he would not easily admit it, Scruffpaw was his best friend. The pup had a big heart and was different from the other dogs. He refused to eat fresh kill in leaf-bare until every other cat or dog was fed. He would spend his free time with the pups, telling them stories and gently romping with them, rather than sharing tongues with the other apprentices. Dieselpaw admired the kindness and loyalty that hung about Scruffpaw. Could he ever live up to be the warrior that Scruffpaw was destined to be? Or would he be the clan clown, like he was now? He pushed the thoughts away. "Come on Scruffpaw" said Dieselpaw "we may as well bring some fresh-kill back to our camps while we're out here." And off they went.