Bluestar woke him with a prod. "Whitestorm. Up you get."

The tom lifted his head and blinked. "Is it time for the ceremony already?"

"Yes."

Whitestorm watched as his aunt ducked out of the den, then followed her. It had been almost a full moon since WindClan's return. Firepaw and Greypaw had been made into warriors – Fireheart and Greystripe – and it was time for his own apprentice to receive her warrior name.

Weak sunlight filtered into the camp, stealing the chill away from the soft sand beneath his paws. As the two padded across the clearing, Bluestar leaned forward towards him. Whitestorm couldn't help but feel a pang of pride that his apprentice was finally becoming a warrior.

"I was thinking about names," she whispered, glancing over at the apprentice. "How about Sandstorm?"

Whitestorm's tail lifted. "That sounds strong and swift. I think she'll like that one. And Dustpaw?"

"Well," Bluestar padded up to the base of the Highrock, her whiskers twitching with amusement. "I don't want to name him Duststripe after his mentor, so I was thinking something simpler. Maybe Dustfur?"

"Dustpelt," Whitestorm offered.

"Fur, tail and pelt seem to go with all names," Bluestar sighed. "Sometimes it's hard to decide. But there's nothing distinctive about Dustpaw's tail. It's either fur or pelt."

"What sounds better? Sandstorm and Dustfur. Sandstorm and Dustpelt."

Bluestar paused. "You're right," she decided. "I'll announce it to the Clan."

Whitestorm nodded.

The ceremony went smoothly without any hitches, and as soon as their names were announced, Whitestorm's voice boomed like thunder over the rest of his Clan's. Sandstorm moved to sit beside him, and his eyes glowed. "Well done, Sandstorm! I'm proud to have called you my apprentice."

Sandstorm's expression was filled with happiness. If a cat could die from that, Whitestorm knew that she would probably have done so ten times over. "It's all thanks to you, Whitestorm!"

"No," he shook his head. "You put in all of the effort. I just taught you what you needed to know to grow. ThunderClan needs more warriors, and with no doubt, you'll be a valuable addition."

He chuckled and lifted his head as Sandstorm nuzzled into him, relishing in the warm mantra of her Clanmate's call. After a moment, Tigerclaw pushed his way through the crowd, his amber eyes unreadable.

"Sandstorm," he meowed, nodding his approval. "With Whitestorm having trained you, I expect great things of you." The tabby warrior pressed his nose to the ginger she-cat's shoulder gently and then padded over to Dustpelt. "Serve ThunderClan well."

"Thank you, Tigerclaw," Sandstorm beamed. Her chest fur fluffed up with pride and she moved to join her brother, who had also received Tigerclaw's "blessing".

Whitestorm watched the ThunderClan deputy gathered up a patrol to leave. As the tabby passed Fireheart and his new apprentice, Cinderpaw, he leaned forward and sneered something. Fireheart stiffened, an expression of annoyance growing on his face. The ginger tom growled something and turned away, heading for the dirtplace tunnel.

Bluestar appeared at his side. "Whitestorm. I want you to take a border patrol towards ShadowClan and revive the scent markers there. Take whoever you want."

It felt good to be home again, Whitestorm thought, dipping his head respectfully to his aunt before striding over to gather up Fireheart and Longtail.

On his way there, however, he was met by Tigerclaw.

"Whitestorm," the tabby greeted, "Now that you've no apprentice, that frees up some more of your time. Care to join me for some fresh kill after you return from your patrol?"

Whitestorm's whiskers twitched with surprise. Why would Tigerclaw want to share prey with him? Glancing over towards the dirtplace tunnel, he signalled to Fireheart with a flick of his tail and then turned back to Tigerclaw. "I will join you. Is there a reason?"

Tigerclaw looked at Fireheart as the ginger tom stopped beside Whitestorm. "No. Just for old times sake." He meowed. "Mousefur, Swiftpaw and Runningwind are patrolling near the WindClan border. Where are you going?"

"I'm taking Fireheart, Cinderpaw and Longtail to the ShadowClan border to strengthen the scent markers," he replied, flexing his legs briefly before straightening out. "Is there something we should know about?"

"No," Tigerclaw muttered. His ear swivelled around as Halftail crossed the clearing toward him. "Make sure you don't scent Brokenstar or any of his allies. If you do, don't follow the trail. You should come back here and gather up a larger patrol."

"Do you believe that Brokenstar may still be around?" Whitestorm queried. I wouldn't be surprised. Brokenstar is still ambitious and will seek revenge for his exile.

But Tigerclaw didn't look worried. "Yes."

"Tigerclaw," Halftail called, his voice hoarse. "My joints are stiff. Come over here, would you?"

The deputy growled something under his breath and prowled off to join the elder.

Whitestorm turned to Fireheart. "Fetch your apprentice and let's go." He ordered. "We'll be leaving immediately."