Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Chapter Ten: Reflections

It was dawn when Vixenpaw awoke. She raised her head, blinking sleepily and yawning. The rising sun was veiled by mist, which lent a silvery hue to the morning light that streamed in through the mouth of the den. It was still dim in the apprentice's resting place, and her sleeping friends were little more than shadows in the darkness around her.

Careful not to wake anyone up, she got to her paws quietly and arched her back in a stretch. Then she tiptoed between the other apprentices' nests, making her way to the den's entrance. She peered out through the gap in the thorns.

To Vixenpaw's relief, the camp was quiet. It was almost eerily still; the morning mist that hung in the air lent an unsettling atmosphere to the usually lively site. The dawn patrol must have already set out, which meant that she would be able to sneak out alone, if she was careful.

The ginger apprentice slowly slipped out of the den, the thorns tugging at her fur as she went through. She crept low to the ground, hoping the fog would hide her. It was thick enough that she thought it probably would. As she approached the slope that led out of camp, she almost missed the white figure sitting vigil at the base. The warrior blended perfectly into the haze. Snowfall.

But the young warrior wasn't a problem. She would be easy enough to distract; all Vixenpaw needed was a good diversion. The apprentice trotted over to the walls of the camp, searching for loose rocks. When she found one of a decent size, she picked it up in her mouth and brought it back to where she had been standing before. The taste of it was rather disgusting; she spat it out at her paws as soon as she got the chance. Then she crouched beside it, took aim, and batted it as hard as she could. It sailed through the air, disappearing into the gloom.

Vixenpaw heard the pebble clatter against the ground a good distance away. The sound echoed off the walls of the ravine.

Snowfall was on her paws in an instant. Her head was raised alertly, and what Vixenpaw could see of her tail looked bushed out, though it was hard to tell in the fog. The warrior moved carefully in the direction of noise, away from the slope.

Vixenpaw waited for her to take a few more steps. Just a moment longer…

Now!

She bounded across the clearing and up the pebbly slope, wincing as her paws dislodged a few rocks and sent them clattering down the hill behind her. Ack, too noisy! She scrambled to the top as quickly as she could, hoping that she would be able to get away before Snowfall made it back to her post.

Thankfully, as she bounded away into the forest, Vixenpaw didn't hear any signs that Snowfall had seen her go. That wasn't my most stealthy escape ever, but hopefully she'll just think she was imagining those noises, or that they were only caused by some curious mouse. But knowing poor Snowfall, she'd be thoroughly spooked until someone else woke up or the dawn patrol got back. Vixenpaw felt a little guilty, but she soon managed to forget her remorse as the wonderful feeling of being in the forest took hold of her. It felt good to run along the winding paths alone, without having to worry about leaving anyone behind or getting in trouble with a patrol leader for running too far ahead. It's good to be free again.

At first she hardly knew where her paws were taking her. Then the trees thinned out and she heard the babbling of the river ahead of her, and she realized that she'd come to the RiverClan border. She opened her mouth to sniff the air, relieved to find out that the scents of the dawn patrol were fresh; that meant they'd already come this way this morning, and she'd be unlikely to be discovered here.

Vixenpaw sat down on the riverbank, inhaling the misty air. It was a little chilly for a morning in early leaf-fall, but it was refreshing, especially after all those hot days in green-leaf. The fog left little dewdrops on her fur and on her whiskers, sparkling in the hints of light that made it through the clouds and the leaves overhead. The sun had emerged over the horizon, turning everything from silver to green and gold.

She simply sat there for a moment or two, listening to the occasional bird chirp ringing through the otherwise silent air. Then she let her thoughts wander back to RiverClan's visit a few days ago. She would have liked to think it over earlier, but she'd been so busy that she hadn't gotten a chance. Unlike Flamepaw, she couldn't just stop and space out anytime she wanted. If something was important enough to be worth contemplating like this, she wanted some quiet time alone to do it.

After the patrol had guided the RiverClan cats back to their own territory, Falconstar had taken the four escorts aside to ask them for their opinions . Vixenpaw guessed he hadn't wanted to make another big scene like the fight that had happened over the issue earlier. But she'd been so curious… she'd just had to eavesdrop.

The results were mostly as expected. Rosethorn had been wary, and advised against trusting RiverClan. Featherwing had sided with her sister, Cloudfur, in supporting the alliance. Snowfall, always nervous yet compassionate, had remained undecided.

But it was Ravenflight's input that was startling. Instead of either supporting or opposing the alliance, or even saying that he wasn't sure which course of action was best, he had said that he didn't care. His words came echoing back to her…

"The Clan is divided over this issue as it is… my words wouldn't make a difference either way. And I have no opinion to offer. Ally our Clan with RiverClan or don't; it doesn't matter to me. Do what you like, Falconstar."

It was just so frustrating. She'd always known Ravenflight was a weird, reclusive cat, but how could he completely not care? It was his Clan too!

Thinking about it made her angry, but she didn't notice how angry until she felt her claws slide out of their sheathes and sink into the moss beneath her paws. Oops, she thought, retracting them and inspecting the puncture marks they left behind. Oh, well.

To distract herself, she turned her thoughts to the conversation the apprentices had had afterward. They'd discussed the issue among themselves, offering their own views on the matter. Stormpaw thought they should help RiverClan; like his mother, he was concerned for the cats on the other side of the river. Branchpaw had agreed, but for a different reason; he thought it was worth the risk of war to ensure that ThunderClan wouldn't starve during leaf-bare.

Icepaw hadn't said anything at all. She was still angry about the way Lionvoice had treated Cloudfur, and hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the evening. Thankfully, she'd seemed in a better mood the next morning, but although it hadn't lasted, acting sullen wasn't like her. Vixenpaw was still vaguely concerned about the white apprentice.

Flamepaw had been less trusting of the RiverClan cats, and had remained undecided about what he thought Falconstar should do. Vixenpaw hadn't really expected him to make a decision; he would always weigh each side of an argument carefully when trying to come to a conclusion, and this time the options were pretty much balanced. What bothered her was the fact that Flamepaw wouldn't meet her eyes during their conversation. She had a feeling he was still angry with her for refusing to accept his belief in StarClan. Looking back on it, she realized that she was a bit harsh, but she couldn't figure out a way to apologize. Every time she got near her brother, he would find some excuse to avoid her. And even if she could get him to hear her out, her pride protested at the thought of admitting she was wrong.

Don't think about that now, Vixenpaw told herself. Think about your other problem.

This other problem was a bit more complex. She agreed with Branchpaw and Stormpaw that Falconstar should make the alliance with RiverClan. She knew the reason she should care about said alliance was because it benefitted her Clan. She knew that she should put her Clan ahead of herself…

So why couldn't she?

Vixenpaw took a deep breath, crouching and leaning forward to look at her reflection in the river. The water was a little choppy, blurring the image, but it was there.

She looked deep into the green eyes, let her gaze travel over the familiar ginger shape. You're Vixenpaw, she told herself. Future warrior of ThunderClan. Apprentice of ThunderClan's loyal deputy, Hazelclaw. You should not care about what's on the other side of the river. The forest is yours. Not what's across the river.

But it didn't matter how many times she repeated it. The cold, nagging feeling remained in her heart.

Vixenpaw raised her head to gaze across the river. The land on the other side seemed to call out to her, beckoning her to cross the stepping stones that protruded from the water.

She closed her eyes. Ever since she was a kit, Vixenpaw had always been the adventurous one. Everyone else thought she liked to sneak off into the forest because she was a natural troublemaker, but the real reason was because she was curious. Her paws had always itched to explore the woods, to find the edges of the vast expanse of trees. As a kit, that had always seemed impossible. She would never finish exploring ThunderClan's territory. There would always be more to find.

Then she had become an apprentice. Hazelclaw had showed her the borders, helped her learn the territory, taught her to be the master of the woods. Vixenpaw had been delighted when she'd finally memorized every route, every path, every remote corner of ThunderClan's land. It gave her the feeling that it was her forest. It was her duty to protect it from enemy warriors, and eventually it would be her duty to teach its ways to an apprentice of her own.

But then her curiosity had spread. The borders, which had once been the very edges of her world, were now confining lines, keeping her inside a small, limited place. Why shouldn't she explore what was beyond the forest? Her paws ached to wander again. Her mind burned with curiosity. What was out there? What was on the moor? What was in the pine forest and the marshes? What lay on the other side of the river?

Vixenpaw had been able to tame her desire after a while, accepting that the other Clans' territories were theirs, and that they were off-limits. But now, when RiverClan was offering to let her Clan hunt on its land, giving her a chance to go there, giving her dream a chance to spread its wings and fly… how was she supposed to refuse?

And how was she supposed to be happy again if Falconstar said no, if her dreams were crushed right when they had begun to live again?

Vixenpaw had told her fellow apprentices that she supported the alliance, but she hadn't told them why. Somewhere deep inside, she was afraid of what they might think. Most of the time she went around telling herself that she didn't care what anyone said or thought about her, but while that was true for little things, she couldn't bear the thought of anyone scorning her most desperate wish.

And even worse, what if they thought that she was treasonous for wanting such things? Did it make her less of a ThunderClan cat that she wanted to see what the moor beneath the open sky was like, feel the mud of the marshes beneath her paws, and wander among the scattered trees and sparkling waters of the land across the river?

She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the cat approaching her from behind until he sat down beside her.

Vixenpaw jumped, feeling an odd mixture of surprise and guilt. She knew that no one be able to figure out what she was thinking, but she felt sort of bad for thinking it in the first place. But when she turned to face the newcomer, she saw that it was Branchpaw, and a wave of relief went through her. If any cat in the Clan understood her restlessness, it was her older brother.

"Hey," Branchpaw meowed. His gaze rested on her face for a moment, but then he let it wander. His eyes came to rest on the opposite bank of the stream.

"Hey," Vixenpaw replied. Her littermate clearly wasn't in any hurry to move, but neither was she. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to talk to him for a while.

A few moments passed in silence.

"So," Branchpaw said, turning to look at her again, his vivid green eyes sparking in the morning light. "Do I want to know what you're doing out in the forest alone?"

"You're one to talk," Vixenpaw retorted. "I don't see anyone with you."

"You don't see anyone," Branchpaw agreed. "But I do have company. Pineclaw and Cloudfur came with me. They're waiting on the other side of those bushes." He flicked his tail to indicate the foliage behind them.

Vixenpaw felt the fur along her spine bristle uneasily. "So, am I going to be in trouble?"

"No," her brother meowed, sounding amused. "I convinced them not to tell anyone. Our story is that the two of us wanted to go out hunting, so the warriors came with us for backup. As far as anyone else is concerned, you never came out alone."

"Really?" Vixenpaw asked, wrinkling her nose skeptically. "How'd you get them to agree to that?"

"It wasn't hard, to be honest," Branchpaw meowed. "I would like to say that I worked a miracle to help a littermate in need, but I didn't. Cloudfur was just concerned about you. She doesn't really care if you break the rules, as long as you come home perfectly safe."

"And what about Pineclaw? I doubt he wanted to come find me. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that he'd rather see me get in trouble."

"I made a deal with him," Branchpaw explained. "I now owe him a favor."

Vixenpaw couldn't stop her whiskers from twitching. "Well, that'll be interesting," she laughed. "I wonder what he'll use it for."

"Hmm," Branchpaw meowed. "Me too, I guess."

He sounded so much like Flamepaw for a moment that Vixenpaw had to take another glance, just to make sure that he hadn't suddenly morphed into the orange tabby. But he was still her older brother.

"Is there something on your mind?" he finally asked. She glanced at him, startled; she'd been about to ask him the same question.

"Yeah, I suppose," she meowed carefully. She wasn't quite ready to talk about her dream, but maybe he could help her with the Flamepaw issue. "I'm just… I'm worried Flamepaw is angry with me."

Branchpaw tilted his head to one side. "Because of the argument you had the other day?" he asked. "About StarClan?"

Sometimes she forgot how observant he could be. "Yes," she said, looking at her paws. For a couple of heartbeats, she'd forgotten why she didn't talk about her thoughts more often. Now she remembered how awkward it could be.

Branchpaw hesitated. "I don't think Flamepaw really gets angry," he admitted. "I think it's more that you hurt his feelings. Think about it this way; how would you like it if someone told you your beliefs and dreams were nonsense?"

Vixenpaw winced. She really hoped no one ever told her that. Especially since that was exactly what she was afraid of. "I… didn't really think about it that way," she confessed. "I was too busy trying to make him see reality." She hesitated, glancing at Branchpaw. She wasn't sure how much to say, especially since she barely wanted to admit this to herself. But the thought had suddenly come to her mind, and she couldn't seem to suppress it. And she knew that Branchpaw was the only cat in the world she could ever talk to about this. So she threw caution to the winds and continued on anyway. "Do you ever… do you ever think he's too much of a thinker? That he's going to get himself in trouble one day because he spends too much time with his head in the clouds and not enough time in the real world?"

Branchpaw considered it. "I don't know. Sometimes I feel a little sorry for him, because he's so shy. And sometimes it makes me so angry that he just zones out, because then I have to pay attention for him. But most of the time… most of the time I just think that's who he is."

"I know," Vixenpaw meowed, half-choking on her words as guilt twisted in her chest. "But is it really okay for him to be that way? I love Flamepaw; you know that. But wouldn't you change him if you could? He just doesn't seem to fit in the way he is. Sometimes I don't think he's cut out to be a Clan cat."

Branchpaw looked surprised. "Change him?" he echoed. He was silent for a long time before he spoke again. "I… I don't think so. Sure, he's totally different than everyone else, and he should probably come out of his shell a bit more… but I wouldn't make him change. That's something he has to learn to do on his own. Besides, he has a few small problems, but there's nothing wrong with him. If anything, he just has to grow a little."

"But that's the problem," Vixenpaw argued. "He's not growing at all. I always have to push him to get him to do anything. And both of us constantly have to watch out for him. Not that I mind doing that most of the time, but that's not the point. The point is, we won't always be there for him. One day he's going to be stuck in a situation where he's forced to take care of himself. And he has to be able to." She could hear her frustration flaring in her own voice, but she couldn't seem to suppress it.

"I don't think you're giving him enough credit," Branchpaw meowed. "It's true that he's always off in his own world when other cats are speaking, but have you ever seen him alone in the forest? He's aware of it like nothing else. True, he isn't the best hunter, and he isn't a great fighter either, but he knows what's going on there. He hears and smells and sees everything before I do. It's like…" The brown apprentice paused, searching for the right words. "It's like the forest has its own voice, and it speaks to everyone, but it's so quiet that only he really hears it. Because he's the only one who stops to listen."

Vixenpaw opened her mouth to tell him how ridiculous he sounded… then closed it.

Was I really about to make the same mistake twice? she realized. She'd almost dismissed Branchpaw's words as nonsense, when she'd just gotten into a fight with Flamepaw over the very same thing. And now that she paused to think it over, she realized there was some truth to Branchpaw's statement. Even if he phrased it in a whimsical sort of way, it undeniably described Flamepaw. The quiet, dreamy apprentice who heard everything except for what he was supposed to hear.

"So, I think you should try listening to him a little more," Branchpaw continued. "Even if his skills are a bit different than ours, he's not completely helpless. And when he speaks, what he always has something interesting to say."

Her littermate sounded like he was thinking of something in particular. "Like what?" she prompted.

"Like what he said about Nightwatcher the other day," Branchpaw meowed. "When Nightwatcher yelled at us for bothering Blackpaw, I thought he was just annoyed because we were getting in his way. But Flamepaw said that he seemed afraid, and that he was actually worried about Blackpaw. And… I think Flamepaw was right. I never would have noticed that if he hadn't pointed it out. I think sometimes our brother is more observant than either of us."

Vixenpaw thought about it. She barely even remembered him saying that, though it sounded familiar now that Branchpaw mentioned it. But she definitely hadn't given it as much thought as her littermate had.

"So maybe that would help," Branchpaw finished. "You can go apologize to him, and even if you still think what he was saying about StarClan is stupid, you should promise to make more of an effort to listen to him. If he really is angry, I think that's what it's about. He definitely seemed convinced that you don't understand him."

Maybe I don't really understand him, Vixenpaw thought, feeling guiltier than ever. Maybe, for once, Flamepaw is right, and I'm the one who's wrong.

"Did that help at all?" Branchpaw asked, finally looking directly at her.

"Yes, it did, actually," the ginger apprentice mewed. She got to her paws, lifting each one individually and shaking it to dislodge any scraps of moss still clinging to her claws. "Now I know who to blame if he gets even angrier at me."

Branchpaw's eyes glimmered briefly with amusement, but then he was serious again. "Come on, Vixenpaw, be honest," he insisted.

"Yes," she admitted after a few moments. "It does help. I'll try to do what you suggested." She hesitated, then added, "Thank you, Branchpaw."

"No problem," he replied, getting to his paws. "That's what siblings are for."

He turned and set off for camp, disappearing into the foliage. Vixenpaw started to follow him, then hesitated. She knew she should get going, too. But something held her back.

She risked one last glance over her shoulder. The shifting, sparkling waters of the river still seemed to call out to her. She felt the same irresistible tug in her paws that had spawned all of her adventures, and gotten her into trouble countless times.

"Aren't you coming?" Branchpaw called from the other side of the bushes.

"Yes!" she yowled back. "Keep your fur on!"

Vixenpaw gave the river one last longing glance, then forced herself to turn around and race away after her brother.