"Come on, Fireheart, let's go! We need to leave sometime before sunset, you know!" Cinderpaw meowed, bouncing up and down as much as her injured leg would allow.

"I'm coming, Cinderpaw. The forest isn't going anywhere," Fireheart replied, swallowing the last of his vole before rising to his paws and padding off after his apprentice.

Cinderpaw stopped in her bouncing. "I know," she acknowledged. "But this is the first time I've been out of camp in forever. Please, can we just get going?"

Fireheart gave a purr of amusement. "Very well," he conceded. "But don't go running off. Remember, this is just supposed to be an easy day to help strengthen your leg and get you back in shape a little."

The young apprentice nodded impatiently before half-limping, half-skipping through the gorse tunnel that led out of the camp. Fireheart followed her more slowly, nodding briefly to Runningwind as he passed by him with a hunting patrol following close behind. Runningwind returned the gesture before continuing into the camp to deposit the patrol's findings–two mice, a squirrel, and a vole–into the fresh-kill pile.

"Where are we going first?" Cinderpaw asked eagerly, her blue eyes shining. She looked as excited as the first day she'd toured the territory.

Fireheart thought for a moment. Snakerocks was obviously out of the question since if an adder attacked Cinderpaw while he wasn't looking, she wouldn't be able to get away in time. Sunningrocks would be safer, but the last thing he needed was to run into a RiverClan trespasser; namely Silverstream, probably wondering why Graystripe wasn't coming to see her anymore. Of course, his camp confinement was ending soon, so she wouldn't have long to wait.

"Fourtrees," he decided finally. That was a safe option. The terrain was relatively easy to walk, so he wouldn't have to worry about Cinderpaw tripping and injuring herself further. "And remember, if your leg starts bothering you, let me know immediately and we'll turn around and go back. I'm not a medicine cat so I can't really judge these things, but I don't want to risk aggravating your injury on the first day."

"Okay," Cinderpaw agreed, taking off in the direction of Fourtrees.

Throughout their walk, Cinderpaw–with Fireheart's encouragement–attempted to put pressure on her injured leg with varying results. The exercises Yellowfang had given her had done quite a bit of good, but that leg was still noticeably weaker than the other three. Nevertheless, Fireheart was impressed by her progress. He hadn't been expecting her to be able to walk on it at all yet, but she was doing her best.

"When do you think I'll be allowed to hunt and fight again?" the gray molly asked unexpectedly, turning to her mentor.

"Later," Fireheart replied. "We need to get you adjusted to the basics first. Get used to walking with three good legs, and then we'll deal with hunting and fighting techniques."

"How long do you think that will take?" Cinderpaw asked.

"I can't say for sure," Fireheart admitted. "Yellowfang will be better at judging that than me. But as long as you keep up with your exercises and don't overwork yourself, I expect you should be ready before you know it."

It was nearly sunset when Fireheart noticed that Cinderpaw was starting to limp much more slowly than before and decided to call it a day. For once, she didn't complain and the two cats walked back to the camp together. Despite the pain she must have been feeling, the young molly's eyes were gleaming with pride. Fireheart couldn't help sharing the same feeling. On her first day out of camp, she had managed to walk all the way to Fourtrees.

When they arrived back home, Cinderpaw bade him farewell before limping away to the medicine den to begin her exercises for the evening. Fireheart turned to join Sandstorm and Ravenflight, passing by Longtail as he walked over to his mate and best friend. The pale tabby gave him his customary sneer, which Fireheart ignored at first until he heard Longtail mutter something under his breath.

"Pardon me?" Fireheart asked, pausing and narrowing his eyes at his rival.

"I said, I don't know why you're bothering," Longtail clarified, the same ugly sneer still twisting his features.

"Explain," Fireheart meowed, his voice calm but with a dangerous undertone as though readying himself for a fight.

"I'm talking about Cinderpaw," the pale tabby meowed. "I don't know why you're bothering to train her. A crippled cat can't ever become a real warrior. She'll do nothing but hold everyone back."

"Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?" Fireheart retorted, struggling to keep the fury he could feel bubbling up inside him from overflowing. "I think she can do it and she's determined to try, so who are you to say she can't become a warrior? And Longtail, you of all cats are living proof that just because a cat has use of all four legs doesn't mean that they're going to be a real warrior, as you yourself put it."

Leaving Longtail staring after him with a stunned expression on his face, Fireheart brushed past him and continued on toward his friends. Sandstorm purred and licked his ears as he sat down next to her. The ginger tom felt a prickle of warmth as he took in the sight of his mate, her belly swollen with her kits that would be due in a moon or so. He wondered what they would end up naming them.

"How was your walk with Cinderpaw?" she asked.

"Good," Fireheart replied. "She still has a ways to go, but she's further along than I expected her to be at this point. It shouldn't be long before she can start training again."

"She's lucky to have you as a mentor," Ravenflight remarked. "I think knowing that you believe in her is part of what's helping her progress as quickly as she is."

"Maybe," Fireheart meowed awkwardly, unsure if he was deserving of such praise. "But I think it's mostly the fact that Yellowfang is a great medicine cat and does her job well. It's really the exercises that have been helping Cinderpaw."

Sandstorm rolled her eyes. "Oh, Fireheart, give yourself a little credit," she meowed, nudging him with her shoulder. "Of course, Yellowfang's exercises have been helping, but don't underestimate what knowing there's someone who believes in you can do. Honestly, if you-know-who was her mentor, I think Cinderpaw would have given up on being a warrior completely."

"She's right," Ravenflight agreed. "When we heard about Cinderpaw's accident, I don't think anyone thought she was going to be able to become a warrior. Even Yellowfang and Bluestar had their doubts. I don't think even Cinderpaw thought she had a future as a warrior anymore. But because you said you were going to help her become a warrior no matter what, she believed it could happen...and already, she's starting to walk again."

Fireheart was touched by his friends' praise, but he was sure that they were overexaggerating his contributions. He might have helped a little, granted, but it was really thanks to Yellowfang that Cinderpaw was doing as well as she was. On the other hand, Sandstorm had a point when she said that Cinderpaw would have given up completely if Graystripe had been her mentor. Perhaps he was being unnecessarily harsh.

Speaking of which, where is he anyway? Fireheart wondered, glancing around the camp. There was no sign of the gray warrior anywhere. Oh well. He's probably sleeping the day away or something.

Rising back to his paws, Fireheart meowed goodbye to his friends before making his way to the warriors' den. As he expected, Graystripe was inside, but he didn't even glance at his ex-friend as he curled up in his own nest and dozed off. There was a lot of work to be done tomorrow, and he wanted to be sharp and ready when the sun rose.