Sorry for the long pause between chapters! I went on a trip shortly after I finished chapter 9, and it threw me off my groove. But I'm happy to say I've found it again, and I hope you like this chapter! And don't worry, I promise things will be more exciting in the next one!


A half moon had passed since the battle between RiverClan and ThunderClan and things hadn't exactly gotten easier for Emberpaw. While Tawnypaw was forming a good, working relationship with Fireclaw, his relationship with Brokentail was getting uneasy and awkward. He just didn't seem to be all that good at anything, and Brokentail was clearly getting frustrated.

Leopardstar had been gently informing everyone that the Gathering was coming up soon, and Linnetpaw and Rainpaw were beside themselves trying to impress her. "I really want to go!" Linnetpaw kept saying. "I didn't get to go last time, but Rainpaw did, and I just have to go! She saw all the great warriors, didn't you, Rainpaw?"And then she would force quiet Rainpaw to talk about all the warriors from the other Clans she had met.

It was the dawn of the day the Gathering was to begin, and Emberpaw got up bright and early. Never mind that he hadn't slept much the night before, but he decided being up and about might impress Brokentail. He peered into the warriors' den and saw that Brokentail was still asleep. Emberpaw twitched his whiskers. "I'll do my duties around camp, then," he said quietly, and padded towards the nursery.

Nightface was casually grooming her black fur, still looking quite sleepy. "Nightface?" Emberpaw asked quietly, holding his tail up in greeting.

Nightface swiveled her head and twitched her tail pleasantly. "Oh, good morning, Emberpaw," she said. "You're up early."

He rolled his tail in the air. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I would just get up and get moving."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe you can catch a quick nap at sunhigh?"

"Ha, maybe. Can I get you anything? Some fresh-kill, or water, or new moss?"

Nightface purred. "Thank you, but I'm all right for now. My kits aren't due for about another half-moon, or so says Beechfur."

"That's good, we can always use some friendly new faces!" Emberpaw replied with a grin. "I've never seen kits younger than me before."

Nightface nodded. "That's right, you were the baby of your clutch! Well, when mine come, you're welcome to come visit when they're ready. You've got a gentle air about you." The black queen's yellow eyes glowed warmly. "Eelfoot did a good job raising you, you'll be a fine warrior."

Emberpaw licked his chest nervously, trying to hide his shyness. "Oh, um, th-thank you, Nightface." He twitched his ears.

She purred amusedly. "You're welcome. You know, Beechfur thinks my litter is going to be a big one."

Emberpaw looked up. "How does he know that?"

"Goosepaw told him she thought so when she gave me a checkup yesterday. He says she's got a natural gift for that. Why, she even predicted that Eelfoot would have just one kit."

"That's really neat! How do you think she can tell? Aren't kits really small in the belly until the last half-moon or so?"

"They are, yes. Beechfur says that she has a keener paw for it than he does since she's also a molly. She can feel the tiny differences that he might miss." Nightface swished her tail. "Personally, I think she's just got a really gifted intuition, since I can't feel them in my belly at all, and they're my kits."

Emberpaw simply nodded, unable to offer much to the conversation. "I should chat up Goosepaw more often, she sounds really brilliant."

"She is, she's quite smart. If you want to know what I think, I think Beechfur's trying too hard to protect her, and doesn't let her spread her wings. But then again, she is his sister. Littermates are always protective."

What a terrible gossip! But Emberpaw chuckled, enjoying the conversation and how relaxed Nightface was. "Goosepaw is much older than me, right?"

"Oh, goodness, she's older than I am! StarClan only knows why Beechfur hasn't given the poor cat her full name yet, it's a damn shame. If something happens to Beechfur, no one will give Goosepaw her name, and he's getting to that age where, well, anything could happen." She stopped and looked at a spot on the wall. "Well, I suppose it's not really my business. StarClan will do what it wills." Nightface cast her gaze on Emberpaw. "Anyway, darling, you should be off. I've been flapping my maw while you have important duties to attend to."

Emberpaw nodded. "I'll be back around sunhigh to check on you, if that's all right."

Nightface purred. "You are a dear. Thank you, Emberpaw."

He dipped his head respectfully and headed towards the elders' den. Tornface and Lightfur were fast asleep, but Whitewhisker was still awake. "Good morning, Emberpaw," she rasped. "Gossiping with the queens, are we?" she added with a playful expression that made him smile.

"Good morning, Whitewhisker." he said. "I was just checking on Nightface. If anything, I just listened to the gossip. I haven't really been out of the nursery long enough to contribute."

The old white cat purred, blinking her glassy green eyes. "It's good of you to chat with Nightface, she's quite lonely, being the only queen and all." She gracefully folded her paws together. "So what can I do for you?"

"I was about to come ask you that," the apprentice replied, gently shaking his ginger and black fur. "Do you need anything?"

"New bones," Whitewhisker said, stretching and cracking her back legs with a grunt.

"Aha, I can't really help with that."

"What good are you, then?" She gave him a light tap on the foot with her paw, and he chuckled. "A piece of fresh-kill would be lovely. A mouse, if we've got any. I'm only a little peckish."

He nodded, then looked towards the back of the den. "How are Lightfur and Tornface treating you? I hope they're not being cruel to you, Whitewhisker. I'll clobber them if they are."

"Oh, Tornface is a bother, but he's a kind-hearted fellow. Lightfur's also a good cat. Such a shame that he's got that illness, though. Poor thing had to be in the elders' den before he even had his ceremony."

Emberpaw nodded. Lightfur had a sickness that made him catch other illnesses, and so he couldn't go out and perform his warrior duties for a long time. He didn't appear to harm other cats, so he was placed in the elders' den for a while, at Whitewhisker's recommendation. And, since she was the former medicine cat of ThunderClan, Beechfur couldn't really argue with her like he would with Goosepaw. Age and treachery would always overcome youth and enthusiasm, or so Whitewhisker had said.

"So, how have things been with you?" the old molly said, laying on her side.

Emberpaw twitched his tail. "Well, they've been all right. Sometimes I feel like I don't know what I'm doing, though."

"You're an apprentice," Whitewhisker replied gently. "You're not supposed to know just yet. That's what being an apprentice is about. Do you think I knew everything about being a medicine cat when I became Bluetail's apprentice?"

Emberpaw shook his head.

"Exactly. There were plenty of times I thought to myself, 'Oh, Whitepaw, what have you done to yourself?' It would have been easy to back out and quit, we had another apprentice at the time, but he quit. So StarClan was trying to tell me that this truly was my path, that I am sure of." She blinked slowly. "You'll find your way. You've always been bright."

Emberpaw's ears fell back. "I don't know why everyone says that, really. I haven't got a lick of common sense."

"Who told you that?"

He shuffled his paws, taking a quick glance at the warriors' den. The green shrub was still, not even the dawn patrol was rising just yet. "Brokentail," he admitted after a pause. "I don't think he likes me."

"Why? What's happened?" Whitewhisker asked, concern etched in her features.

"Well... All right, so I was trying to catch mice for the past few days, and I just couldn't get the crouch right. And that's a basic skill, you know? Tawnypaw got it in two days. So I tried for what must have been the number of leaves on two trees' times, and Brokentail saw my crouch and said to me, 'I told you to crouch like a hunter, not like a molly in heat, you useless furball!'" Emberpaw flinched as he said the words, curling up on himself and digging his claws in the ground. "I... I asked him what was wrong with being a molly, and he said, 'I don't know, maybe you can tell me when you figure out what's wrong with you.' And then he told me to fetch moss."

Whitewhisker had a sour expression on her face as he finished. "That idiot. I should claw him for speaking like that." She sighed and touched her nose to his chest, groaning as she rose slightly to touch him. "Try not to let him get to you, Emberpaw. He's been out of the mentoring business for a while, and he's afraid that he's lost his touch." She shook her fur. "That doesn't excuse bad behavior, but try to be understanding that it might not be all about you, all right? You'll make it though."

Emberpaw's ears swiveled behind him as he heard the dawn patrol rise and get ready to leave. "Thank you, Whitewhisker, really." He swished his tail. "I'll go fetch you that mouse now."

She blinked her eyes warmly. "Thank you. Take care today."

"You too," he said. As he walked away, he began to question why he had even bothered talking to Whitewhisker about the whole thing. She was an elder, she couldn't do anything about it. Besides, he was an apprentice, he was supposed to learn how to be a good warrior. It was all his fault if he couldn't learn, right?

As Emberpaw looked at the last mouse on the pile, a scrawny, brown creature with lifeless eyes and a tiny jaw that dangled open gracelessly, he wondered how it could be so hard to catch them. They were just so small.

"I'll catch you next time," he whispered to himself, taking the fresh-kill to the elders' den. He could see Tornface yawning loudly and with great gusto behind Whitewhisker, and he could have sworn he heard her say, "You idiot, your mother should have eaten you while she had the chance!"


In case anyone is confused by that last line: In high-stress environments, feline mothers will eat their own kittens. It happens in Clan life, and usually happens under extreme circumstances, so the mother is never shamed for it. The elders tend to tell nasty jokes since they're usually pretty close to dying anyway. Depressing fellows, really.