After two sunrises, Streamheart decides it's time for a change. Over a breakfast of mice, she tells Stonetail, "Coal knows his way around the territory. We should be teaching them to fight like ShadeClan cats now."

Stonetail nearly chokes on a small rib. "Already?" she wheezes, ducking her head until the bone reappears in the grass, slick with saliva. Cringing, the grey tabby looks back at her friend. "Shouldn't we do hunting techniques first and really prove they know their way around? Coal may have the land memorized, but I can't say for sure if Clay's been paying attention." It is a fair concern; the ruddy brown tom spends most of his time chattering away whether Stonetail is listening or not. If he knows ShadeClan's landmarks, he certainly doesn't talk about them.

This doesn't dissuade Streamheart. She neatly severs her mouse's tail and casts it aside to finish the bulk of the meat. Through a full mouth, she exclaims, "We need them to be ready to fight like us, not hunt the same way we do! Didn't you hear what the patrol found by the WillowClan border?"
"No. What?"

"They found cat scent this morning!" Streamheart's blue eyes flash conspiratorially as she adds, "But it's not WillowClan at all. Pineheart said she almost missed it, but it's definitely there."

Somehow, Stonetail does not share the silver she-cat's excitement. Foreign scents rarely bode well, and it strikes her that her hunt with Coal took place near the very border in question. Suddenly the faint scent she had ignored in the heat of catching her jay causes her stomach to twist. She pushes her breakfast away.
"Let's teach them," she agrees without explanation, rising to her feet. "It's probably best."

"Meet you in the grove, then. You get Clay, I'll get Coal." Streamheart takes the scraps of Stonetail's mouse, not bothering to ask and most certainly not wasting good prey. Bobbing her head in agreement, Stonetail pads towards the elders' den where she can see Clay's thick tail twitching in the entrance. He's taken a liking to Brightface, who tells superb legends about the first Clans. The brown loner often hovers by the patchy old tom like an apprentice, listening to traditional ShadeClan lore.

Stonetail hopes Clay is as good at telling stories as he is at sitting through them. There's one tale she's eager to hear, and as she beckons him away from Brightface's nest, she asks, "What can you tell me about this murderer you're running from?"

»»««

By the time they arrive at the grove, Clay has proven himself a horrific storyteller. His order of events is jarring, sometimes repetitive or cyclical, and he has an overwhelming tendency to recall only his own point of view, however narrow, over most everything else. The only thing of value Stonetail gleans from the convoluted tangent is a description about a half-remembered scent.

"Like a ghost. Or smoke." Clay shudders, broad shoulders shaking in what would be a comical way if his tone weren't so cautious. "It doesn't smell good, but it's hard to notice. And it means he's catching up." Despite obvious efforts to remain upbeat, a thin film of fear slides over the tabby's eyes. A pang of sympathy erupts in Stonetail's chest, and she opts to keep the border patrol's discovery a secret. Disrupting Clay's focus any more than she already has before training could lead to injuries easily avoided.

Patting his side with her tail, Stonetail leads him through a cluster of beech trees that open to an oblong hollow mere tree-lengths from camp. The ground is soft, almost sandy, and a break in the canopy overhead provides bright, clear light broken only by branches that stretch across high above. Waiting in the center of this clearing, to the grey warrior's surprise, is not only Streamheart and Coal, but Redpaw, Thornpaw, and their respective mentors, Sunpelt and Darkfeather. The warriors do not seem pleased to be present, but their apprentices are tussling in the dirt as if unbothered by the prospect of training in the same place as the loners. When they spot Clay, though, they break apart and bombard him with questions.

"Where are you from?"

"Who wants to kill you?"

"Your brother doesn't talk much. Doesn't that annoy you?"

Darkfeather interrupts, giving Thornpaw a light cuff over the head. "You're here to train, not trade stories. Hush." There's a rare fond note to her voice as she addresses the golden tabby, but the cool stare she fixes Clay with does not match so closely. Clearly the loner has not yet earned her favor.

Before the tension can escalate, Streamheart steps away from Coal to address Thornpaw and Redpaw. "You can ask them questions later. For now, though, we need you to do us a huge favor." The apprentices light up at Streamheart's words, immediately forgetting Darkfeather's overbearing presence.

"What is it?" Redpaw demands, ears pricked forward.

"Coal and Clay need to learn how ShadeClan cats are supposed to fight, especially when they're outnumbered, and we want you to help teach them." Stonetail realizes instantly that this is a ruse meant only to secure the apprentices' attention, and it strikes her that Streamheart has excellent foresight in recruiting the eager young cats. Alone, she and Stonetail could easily train the loners in the ShadeClan way of combat, but in the event of betrayal, it would be two against two with no guarantee that Coal and Clay could be defeated. With Sunpelt, Darkfeather, and their two apprentices, though, the numbers have become six against two. Some of the tightness leaves Stonetail's shoulders, and she takes a seat towards the edge of the clearing to watch. Shortly, instructions given, Streamheart joins her, while Sunpelt and Darkfeather sit opposite them.

"Clay first!" the silver tabby calls out, tucking her forepaws neatly below her chest. "Claws sheathed, and keep fighting until I give the word to stop. Redpaw, Thrushpaw, as you go, try teaching him what to do to block your attacks." And with that, Clay finds himself subjected to much battering from the young cats. He'll be fine, though, Stonetail knows, so she takes the opportunity to speak with her friend.

"Good thinking, getting the others," she says quietly, watching as Clay springs away from a two-pronged assault.

"Thought it was safer," Streamheart replies. She yells at Redpaw to keep her claws sheathed before adding, "But I almost couldn't get Darkfeather."

"No?"

"She didn't want to risk Thornpaw getting hurt. Got her to cave when I promised Sunpelt was already bringing Redpaw." Streamheart's whiskers quirk, and she casts a sideways glance at Stonetail. "Of course, I had to promise Sunpelt the same thing, but…" She trails off with a purr Stonetail is inclined to share. It is cut short, however, by Clay yowling in pain.

"She bit me!" he cries, withdrawing from the center of the hollow to hurriedly swipe a paw over his ear, while Redpaw mumbles something about getting carried away. Stonetail itches to scold the tortoiseshell, but with Sunpelt present, she bites her tongue. Redpaw is not hers to correct, and yet when Sunpelt says nothing to reprimand her apprentice, the pale tabby wishes she had spoken out as soon as the urge presented itself.

The time to act is past, though. Coal gives his brother's ear a quick inspection before sending Clay to face Redpaw and Thornpaw once more. At first, the tabby seems reluctant to go through this again, but something changes the moment the apprentices are upon him. Before, he was merely reacting to each attack, his counterstrikes barely delivered before the next assault came. Now, Stonetail can see that he is anticipating how the apprentices will throw themselves at him next. His heavy paws, which had appeared to be a hindrance, are beginning to meet the younger cats in midair, sending them sprawling, forcing them to reconsider their advance. Clay truly begins using his larger build to his advantage.

Eventually Streamheart calls a halt to the fight, asking Coal and Clay to trade places. "Did I do okay?" Clay pants, pawing at the scab forming on his ear. Despite this, his eyes are bright with excitement. Even when his flaws are pointed out (Streamheart informs him that he lacks the evasive technique required of ShadeClan maneuvers), his enthusiasm does not wane. He simply drops himself to Stonetail's right and purrs heartily as Coal's bout begins.

Having missed the arrival of the brothers and the scuffle that followed, Stonetail is eager to see how Coal performs. After all, it took multiple warriors to best him the first time; he could easily be capable of fending Redpaw and Thornpaw off.

And fend them off he does.

Initially Coal hesitates to act. His spine is rigid as he stares down his opponents, but the moment Redpaw snakes forward, reaching to sweep his paws out from beneath him, he exhibits an astounding change. With a bound, he lands behind the tortoiseshell, nose to nose with Thornpaw, who has no time to react as Coal taps him over the head with one paw while hooking the other around his forelegs and pulling. The golden tabby collapses into the dirt, and moments later, Redpaw crashes onto his back with a cry, propelled there by Coal's hind legs as he rolls onto his back, exposing his belly in order to kick her along. In real combat, the move is horribly uncertain, and yet it seems like he has had practice.

"Again," Stonetail demands, eager to see more, but Darkfeather rises, shaking her broad head.

"Enough," she counters. "My apprentice was here to train, not take a beating from a cat twice his size. If you want to train your loners any further, don't ask for our help."

"This is your problem, not ours," Sunpelt adds, stalking towards the trail to camp. Redpaw is at her heels shortly, and then they are gone, only the scent of their disdain in their wake.

"I didn't want to hurt them," Coal says quickly, looking to Streamheart and Stonetail. His eyes flicker between them and the track to camp, and as if he is suddenly made aware of his shift in demeanor, he sits without further comment. His paws press together as he waits for a response that no one is eager to give.

Stonetail finds silence preferable here. Her sharp tongue is often at its worst in the face of difficulty, and if she speaks, it's all too likely that she'll condemn Darkfeather and Sunpelt for protecting their apprentices, a reasonable action. But how much of their action was in the interest of Redpaw and Thornpaw's well-being? Clay did not harm them so much as he rolled them away like they were mere kits, and Coal was curiously methodical, acting in short, swift strikes that did no more than take the apprentices' legs out from beneath them. Neither young cat sustained injury beyond their wounded pride.

"We know," the grey warrior finally answers. "But they don't like you."

"We haven't hurt anyone, though," Clay protests. "We're just…passing through." He and his brother exchange a glance, each one echoing a very different sentiment, before looking back at the she-cats. "It's safe here…"

"That's the thing: ShadeClan is safe. But you two are being hunted! You've got a murderer on your heels, and this is where he's going to come looking eventually." Stonetail dips her head towards Clay. "You're scared of him, and I don't blame you. But now the rest of the Clan is, too. We've had peace for the last few moons, but this cat might change that. For the worse, I might add."

Streamheart's fur prickles, and before Stonetail can continue, she interjects. "The Clan doesn't hate you," she tells the loners. "They're afraid of what you might have brought with you. If it isn't change for the better, they don't want to see it. At all."

Coal's hackles raise, and for the first time, so does his voice. "We didn't ask to have a killer three steps behind us, or to sleep in old badger sets every other night, or to eat crowfood while we pass through Twolegplaces. We didn't ask for any of it, but here we are! So I'm sorry if trying to stay alive is an inconvenience to your comfortable little Clan!"

"We never said it was an inconvenience," Stonetail shoots back.

"You think we don't see you dragging your feet whenever you take us into the forest? Or how tired you sound whenever you have to explain something new? It doesn't have to be said; you act like you've always got something better to do even when your leader tells you to train us," Coal spits. There's a faint flash as sunlight reflects off his unsheathed claws, and Stonetail mirrors his hostility, ears flattening against her skull.

"I lost my apprentice!" she shouts, ripping up the grass underfoot in an effort to ground herself. Maybe if she tears at the earth, maybe if her claws pick and pull at dirt, then she won't do anything mouse-brained. "I couldn't train her, and instead of getting a second chance, a real second chance, I got stuck with you two. Now I get up every morning and have to teach two fully grown cats things that kits ought to know, so I'm going to be tired. I'm going to drag my feet! I traded everything for this. This was not how it was supposed to be!"

"Stuck with us?" Clay gently intrudes. His whiskers droop pathetically, and he takes a couple ginger steps away from the ShadeClan she-cats to stand closer to his brother. However, as he opens his mouth to speak again, presumably to ask why she would say such a thing, Coal snaps.

The black tom launches himself at Stonetail, claws outstretched, and the pale she-cat's training responds before the rest of her can catch up. One moment, her claws are sunk into the dry earth, and the next, she is sailing through the air to counter Coal's advance. They meet on the edge of the clearing and fall to the ground, sending up a great cloud of dust. Streamheart's surprised screech is distant past the blood roaring through Stonetail's ears, and somewhere beyond the scuffle, Clay cries out. But then there's nothing but the heat of the fight, the tightness in her gut, the insatiable need to win. Without thinking, Stonetail sinks her claws into Coal's shoulders and rolls, taking his lithe form with her through the dirt. When she intends to stop, leaving her safely on top, though, he returns the favor, digging his own claws into her forelegs and making use of her momentum to reverse the situation. Once he has the advantage, he springs away to let her up, at which point he aims a sharp blow towards the side of her head. She ducks just in time, letting his claws whistle past her ears, but the top of his head surges up beneath her chin, colliding with what feels like the full force of StarClan behind it. Her vision turns spotty for mere seconds, and in that time, Coal is beneath her, tossing his shoulders to send her sprawling through the dirt.

"Coal, don't!" Clay shouts, but neither combatant seems interested in the ruddy tabby's suggestion. The black tom ignores his brother, instead rearing up over Stonetail, front paws poised to slam down onto her spine. He hesitates for a fraction of a second, though, and that is enough time for the grey tabby to risk rolling onto her back just as the loner did to Redpaw. Her hind paws catch Coal into the gut, driving an "oomph!" from him before flinging him towards the trail to camp. She follows him, and just as her claws are at the tip of his tail, a solid force crashes into her side, pinning her to the ground. Spitting the dirt from her mouth, she finds that the heavy paws on her back belong to Streamheart, and that Coal has been similarly trapped by his brother.

"Enough!" Streamheart snarls, cuffing Stonetail over the head. Her paws are not small, and the blow seems to rattle Stonetail's fangs in her mouth. "We're all sorry Thrushpaw decided to become a medicine cat and that this is the first thing Greystar asked you to do after that, but you're forgetting I'm doing the same thing you are. You aren't alone, so quit acting like it.

"As for you," the silver tabby hisses, blue eyes focusing on Coal. The lean tom shakes Clay off and licks his shoulders as if ignoring her, but his ears swivel her way after a moment. "You say you don't want to hurt anyone, but that didn't look like play fighting. It looked bitter and angry, and I'm not impressed. By either of you."

With that, she removes her paws from Stonetail's back and lowers her voice so only her fellow warrior can hear. "Go cool off. Hunt, check the borders, anything. Make yourself useful, and don't come back until you can look them in the eye without wanting to take their noses off. Understand?"

And she does. Though she can't bring herself to say it, Stonetail understands Streamheart much more clearly than she would like to. "As long as you handle them," she mutters before turning to slip into the cool forest. As she goes, though, she catches Clay watching her with his wide green eyes, following her movements until she's gone from view.

The silence of the forest, with its dappled sunlight and faint breeze, leaves Stonetail with nothing but her own thoughts for company. Slinking along the creek that leads to the WillowClan border, she allows herself a moment to reflect. She's disappointed herself, that much is painfully clear. She should have never retaliated against Coal's attack like a typical apprentice might be wont to do. But it occurs to her as she passes through the stream that if StarClan put her under oath and asked what the worst part of the failed training session was, there would be a far worse answer.

"I'm a mouse-brain," she mutters, shaking droplets of water from her paws before picking up her pace. She's disappointed Streamheart, not to mention Coal and Clay, and failing to meet their standards stings worse than failing to meet her own.

True to Streamheart's orders, Stonetail does not return to camp until the hot rush in her veins has subsided. The moon, almost full, hovers overhead as she nods on her way past the night watch. Her jaws are full of feathers, sleeping robins snared from their nests, and before she returns to her own nest for the night, she deposits the plump bodies at the mouth of the loners' den, tucking them just inside where an owl would not risk swooping down to steal them.

Come morning, one black paw sweeps them inside.