Somehow Greystripe had come down with food poisoning, and was confined to camp. Yellowfang had been treating him for it, giving him yarrow and other herbs to soothe and purge his belly of the poison, but Whitestorm's suspicions had once again been piqued. He'd heard of no other cases of food poisoning – all other ThunderClan cats were being careful, looking for signs of contamination, tasting their prey carefully before eating just to see if it tasted funny.

Truthfully Whitestorm had already decided upon another reason: Greystripe had been eating fish from the river. Though RiverClan had been careful not to say anything at the last gathering, he'd heard rumours that the river had been tainted. On top of that, the patrols he'd seen near Sunningrocks had been scrawnier than ever, and none of the stubborn river-dwelling cats had dared to challenge from for the piece of land.

But he hadn't said anything. Whitestorm knew that it could just be a co-incidence on top of everything else going on. Something caught a fish from the river and Greystripe ended up eating that piece of prey. But he couldn't rule it out.

It had been three nights since he'd taken Brackenpaw to Owl Tree. Ever since, Greystripe had taken out Brackenpaw once with Fireheart, but again upon asking the golden-brown tabby apprentice, the warrior had been distracted. Fireheart had been pressured and the leafbare was making it difficult to train the apprentices.

"Brackenpaw!" Whitestorm called smoothly, sweeping his tail over the ground in a gesture to summon the apprentice. He was sitting beside Cinderpaw, who was talking about how Fireheart had taken her battle training.

The tabby rose, excusing himself from his sister, and padded over. Whitestorm noticed how the tom's shoulders were getting broader as he grew. He wouldn't be as broad as Tigerclaw, but he would probably end up similar to Tallstar, Whitestorm thought.

As Brackenpaw drew to a stop in front of him, dipping his head respectfully, Whitestorm stepped towards him and sat down. "Have you eaten this morning, Brackenpaw?"

The tabby looked briefly confused. "Uh, yes, Whitestorm. I had a sparrow."

Whitestorm glanced up at the sky. "Though the air grows cold and the leaves dry up, such a day should not go to waste, young one. Ever since Sandstorm became a warrior, I have too much free time on my paws. How would you feel about joining me and Bluestar at the training hollow?"

Satisfaction made his chest swell, seeing the hopeful light of the apprentice's eyes. "Really?"

Whitestorm chuckled. "Unlike some cats, I don't like to talk to hear the sound of my own voice. She's already there waiting for us. At first it'll be me and Bluestar sparring, just for old times sake. But then, once you've seen us battle, Bluestar will stand aside and I'll teach you some moves while we correct your posture and strikes."

Brackenpaw looked nervous. "She will be watching?" He asked.

Whitestorm tilted his head slightly. "All apprentices start somewhere, Brackenpaw. Even Bluestar started off without knowing any moves. Do you think she was born with the knowledge to fight?"

"Well, no," Brackenpaw shuffled his paws and stared at the ground. "But she's our leader. What if she doesn't think I'm good enough?"

"Explain."

Brackenpaw's eyes were tinged with alarm and wide. "What if I'm not good enough to fight? I mean, I don't really like fighting... I don't think I'll be very good at it."

"You don't have to attack, Brackenpaw," Whitestorm assured softly. "ThunderClan warriors are not savages. When we fight, we do so to defend ourselves, not to kill, torture or maim. When we head into battle, it is beside friends, and we protect what is rightfully ours. When we fight, we are never alone."

"But fighting," Brackenpaw looked distraught. Whitestorm couldn't explain the sense of personal shame he saw there. "Spilling blood... In battle, can we really ensure that someone won't lose their life? StarClan gave us life for a reason, and we're wasting them by fighting! Why can't we just have peace between Clans? Won't everything be easier if we just work together as one?"

Brackenpaw's words were filled with conviction that shocked even Whitestorm. His amber eyes burned with determination, and Whitestorm felt many eyes resting on him as the Clan paused to listen, as though they were expecting him to stand up and say something. Fireheart had felt the same way, he'd heard, when speaking to Lionheart and Tigerclaw as an apprentice.

And to some extent, Whitestorm knew Brackenpaw's words were true. StarClan had granted them life – or, in the case of leaders, nine lives. However Brackenpaw didn't know some truths, and it was his duty as a warrior to alleviate that weakness.

Smiling, Whitestorm curled his tail around his paws. "Your words are spoken from your heart, and I feel that in time it will make you a powerful warrior. But Brackenpaw, not all battles are fought with tooth and claw." He explained, gazing warmly at the golden-brown tom. "Not all battles are the result of Clan conflict. There are battles where you may need to use your head to outwit your opponent. There are battles that can only be fought with words, and it is up to you to decide whether or not you choose to stand with violence or through other means."

Brackenpaw's eyes flickered with uncertainty and doubt. Whitestorm continued. "StarClan gave us a life, you're correct. However, in the end, every cat in ThunderClan will leave to rejoin StarClan. There isn't really a definite answer to why we were given a life, young one. One warrior may say to learn the values of friendship or to fall in love, but another might say to defend the Clan and their honour."

Brackenpaw's ears flicked. Whitestorm's words were making sense to him. "And the Clans?"

"Just as StarClan has granted us Fourtrees and four seasons, there must be four Clans to maintain balance. Both in nature and in the Clans. You see, wars can break a cat, but they can also forge friendships so strong – so powerful – that last for an eternity. When we move on to StarClan, we will have more knowledge than the Clans combined. This life we have here, it's just one part of a journey, Brackenpaw. When we are ready, perhaps one day we will understand fully. Until then, just enjoy what you have."

His words hadn't completely sated the apprentice's curiosity, but such a thing could never be resolved. There would always be questions, always disagreements, which set cats apart.

So, as he rose to his paws and beckoned for Brackenpaw to follow him to the sandy hollow, he gazed at the cat and murmured clearly, "Know yourself."

Brackenpaw's ears perked. "What does that mean? I am myself," he meowed.

Whitestorm purred to himself. "You're still so young. Think over it, young Brackenpaw. Someday you will understand."

As the two padded away, neither noticed the proud gaze of Frostfur following them from the nursery. The queen heaved a contented sigh, then moved to take some prey to the elders.