I guess I'd better go see to Yellowfang, Firepaw thought reluctantly. The ShadowClan prisoner was still lying beneath the Highrock, glaring balefully at him. StarClan, help me and keep me from clawing anyone's fur off. Preferably hers or my own.

As he approached the injured queen, his trepidation increased further. She was clearly in a terrible mood, as when he approached, she hissed a warning and bared her teeth.

"Stop right there, kittypet!"

Firepaw frowned, wondering how she knew of his origins when he hadn't even spoken to her. Then he realized that she'd probably heard it in passing, either from his own Clanmates or hers, depending on how long ago she'd left ShadowClan. He groaned to himself; if this was how things were going to go, he might as well just turn around now and go share a mouse with Sandpaw.

"Call me whatever you like," he meowed tersely. "I'm just following Bluestar's orders."

"You are a kittypet though, aren't you?" Yellowfang wheezed.

She's tired too, Firepaw noted. There was less fire in her voice, though her spite was as strong as ever. Out loud, he replied, "I used to live with Twolegs when I was a kitten, yes."

"Your mother a kittypet? Your father a kittypet?"

"No, actually my father was a flying squirrel–yes, they were both kittypets," Firepaw meowed, scowling. It was bad enough that he still had to deal with side glances and snide remarks from his own Clanmates. He certainly didn't need this bedraggled hag adding onto his troubles. Unfortunately for him, Yellowfang seemed to take his silence as an invitation to go on.

"Kittypet blood ain't the same as warrior blood. Why don't you run home to your Twolegs now instead of looking after me? It's humiliating, being fussed over by a lowborn cat like you!"

Firepaw lashed his tail.

"You'd feel humiliated even if I were warrior born," he pointed out. "You'd feel ashamed whether I was a precious she-cat from your Clan or a wretched Twoleg that picked you up off the ground. It's the fact that you need to rely on any cat that you find so humiliating!"

Yellowfang stared at him, her orange eyes wide.

"Though believe me, I have no intention of fussing over you," Firepaw continued, forcing his voice, which had begun steadily rising in volume, to lower to a respectable decibel. "I'm simply here to take care of your needs until...well, until whatever Bluestar decides to do with you, so you might as well get used to it. Now, if you don't mind, just let me know whatever I need to get for you, or else being in the care of a pathetic kittypet warrior such as myself will only be the second worst thing that happens to you today!"

Yellowfang began to emit a low wheezing sound. Firepaw stared at the old gray cat in alarm. Was she having some sort of fit?

Then, he realized that she was laughing.

I'm going to hate this job.

"You have spirit, kittypet," the queen croaked out. "Now, I'm tired and my leg hurts. I need sleep and something to put on this wound. Go and find that pretty little medicine cat of yours and ask her for some herbs. I think you'll find a goldenseal poultice will help. And while you're at it, I wouldn't mind a few poppy seeds to chew on. The pain is killing me!"

Firepaw nodded and raced away. The sooner he could get away from the ill-tempered ShadowClan prisoner, the better–for both their sakes.

"I've got most of those in my den," Spottedleaf meowed when Firepaw told her what Yellowfang had requested. "Poppy seeds will help you sleep. Goldenseal is a bit like marigold. If she dresses her wound in that, it will help keep off any infection–though I suppose you know that since I used goldenseal to help treat your wounds. Wait here."

"Oh, yeah. Thanks," the flame-colored tom meowed as the tortoiseshell disappeared into her den. A few moments later, Spottedleaf reemerged with a bundle of folded leaves, which she dropped at Firepaw's feet.

"Tell Yellowfang to go easy on the poppy seeds. I don't want her to deaden the pain entirely. A little pain can be useful, as it will help me judge how well she is healing."

"I will, thanks," Firepaw meowed, picking up the bundle with his teeth. "For helping take care of me too, you know, not just for the herbs."

"Of course, young warrior," Spottedleaf purred.

Tigerclaw was sitting outside the warriors' den when Firepaw left Spottedleaf's clearing, but the ginger apprentice barely paid him any attention. He was too busy mentally preparing himself for a second verbal confrontation with Yellowfang. Fortunately for him, she seemed to have lost her fight for the moment and merely twitched her whiskers as he dropped the bundle in front of her.

"Good," she meowed. "Now, before you leave me in peace, find me something to eat. I'm starving!"

Firepaw was tempted to offer to sneak into Twolegplace and find her some of the kittypet slop he used to eat, but even he knew better than to provoke the bad-tempered warrior again. Dipping his head, he padded over to the fresh-kill pile; unfortunately, as his bad luck would have it, he happened to run into Longtail, who was picking out a small thrush.

"Well, if it isn't Bluestar's precious kittypet apprentice," the tabby warrior sneered. "I heard those RiverClan warriors tore quite a bit of your fur off, didn't they? Pity they didn't take a bit more of you. I'd have loved to see you run back to Twolegplace like the mewling kittypet you are!"

"I'm sure you would," Firepaw retorted coolly. "Sad to say for you, I plan to stay for a long time. Bluestar's a great mentor, not that a weakling like you would know."

"Excuse me?" Longtail narrowed his eyes.

"You heard what I said," the flame-colored tom meowed calmly–ironically, a direct contrast to the rage and resentment he felt burning inside him. "You're weak. Can't even beat a kittypet with no battle training. And you call yourself a warrior! Who in the name of StarClan mentored you?"

"You'd better watch yourself," Longtail blustered. "If Tigerclaw hears that–"

"Oh yes, by all means, run to Tigerclaw because you can't handle an apprentice talking back to you," Firepaw snapped, snatching up a vole and turning around to stalk back over to Yellowfang.

"That's right, kittypet, run back to the hag," the pale tabby warrior sneered. "Don't get yourself into any more trouble."

"Pray tell if it looks like I care in the least what you think right now," Firepaw spat over his shoulder.

He padded over to Yellowfang and dropped the vole off, then turned around and made his way to the apprentices' den. After getting into two arguments in the span of a single day, the only thing Firepaw wanted to do was curl up in his nest and sleep for at least three days–or four, depending on how long it took to curb his desire to claw Longtail's other ear.