"Reedkit, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect it with your life?"
"I do."
"From this day forward, until he has earned his warrior name, this apprentice will be called Reedpaw."
Silverstar's dark blue eyes grazed Reedpaw.
"Whitepetal, you have proved yourself loyal and strong. You will mentor Reedpaw."
The newly named silver apprentice looked up at the white tabby warrior. Whitepetal's hazel eyes were bright as she leaned forward to touch her nose with his.
"Reedpaw! Reedpaw!"
Reedpaw could see Creampaw and Honeypaw cheering, with Lynxfoot. He swallowed. He was a real apprentice now.
He met Mistykit's eye. The dark cream she-cat's wide pale blue eyes and her shivering form made him remember his days in the nursery. Lovely days. But now he'd train.
Rainingkit was swishing her tail over Mistykit's flank, as if to comfort her. Reedpaw never fully realized the reason for Mistykit's uneasiness around him. He still didn't, and, whatever it was, he hoped Mistykit would be comforted by Stormkit.
"Hi, Reedpaw," meowed a voice by Reedpaw's ear.
It was Whitepetal. Her hazel eyes were glowing with pride and pleasure.
Reedpaw dipped his head politely, but his eyes darted around the clearing. It wasn't that he didn't like Whitepetal. It was true she was a loyal, dedicated warrior. But he wanted to see Mistshade and Tawnyclaw. They should show approval.
But Mistshade was nowhere to be in sight, and Tawnyclaw was calmly licking his paw, talking with Tansyflight.
Feeling disoriented about his parents' lack of interest, Reedpaw looked back at Whitepetal. "Is something the matter?" she mewed.
"No," Reedpaw replied.
Whitepetal hesitated. "Very well." She led Reedpaw out of camp, and Reedpaw quietly followed. "We'll explore the territory today," she meowed.
"Okay."
Whitepetal led Reedpaw along the borders, and once, Reedpaw saw Eagleshade and Lynxfoot. They were patrolling the ShadowClan border together.
"So, this is it," meowed Whitepetal. "Did you like it?"
"Yeah." Reedpaw tried to look enthusiastic. "It was amazing."
Whitepetal snorted. "Of course." She lowered her voice. "I know you're think of Mistshade."
"Eh?"
"Yes, I know. You couldn't be any clearer." Whitepetal gazed at Reedpaw. "It's not that Mistshade doesn't care for you," she started slowly."
"What?" Reedpaw honestly didn't know what to say.
"My mother died when I was young," started Whitepetal.
Reedpaw patiently blinked at his mentor.
"She was an old queen when she died. When Minnownose went to StarClan, I was left. Alone. My father had died about two, or three moons after I was born, and I was left in the nursery.
"I know how it is to feel like no one cares about you. But mother aren't the only cats who can love you, Reedpaw. Silverbrook – Silverstar – cared for me, and I thought of her as a sister." Whitepetal fixed Reedpaw with a stern stare.
Reedpaw stared at his white paws. "Okay."
Whitepetal nodded. Her creamy, thick pelt was ruffled. "It's dark," she meowed, although the sun was still high and shining. "We should get back. Eagleshade's patrol must have returned. Do you fancy shrews? They're my favorite."
"No, not really."
"Then you must try a fish," Whitepetal responded. "Your tongue must be adapted to fish already."
Reedpaw managed a purr.
Rosepaw, who was slightly older than Creampaw and Honeypaw, had caught a minnow. "Hi," she meowed, her dark ginger pelt smooth and sleek. She must've given it a good grooming. "I caught a minnow. Would you like to share it?" Her eyes gleamed with friendliness.
"Sure," muttered Reedpaw, surprised by her hospitality.
He sat down, and took a bite of the minnow. The cool, fishy scent rang his ears, and he loved the fresh taste. "Wow," he murmured.
"You've been missing out on great things, right?" asked Rosepaw, her eyes glittering.
"Yeah."
"Honestly, minnows are my favorite." Rosepaw took a big bite. "Yum."
Reedpaw nodded. "They are delicious."
"Yup!"
"Who's your mentor?"
Rosepaw purred. "Leafsplash," she mewed.
"Really? But she was only recently made warrior."
"Yes, but Silverstar said Leafsplash would be a good fit for me," Rosepaw answered.
"Yeah, you do talk much."
Rosepaw rolled her eyes. "I'm finishing the minnow," she declared, and chomped the rest.
"Aw!"
"Don't worry. Lynxfoot has a trout. Maybe she'll share it."
"Nah. I'm going to catch one tomorrow."
Rosepaw's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Let's see if you will," she mewed simply, but Reedpaw didn't miss the look of amusement in the older apprentice's eyes.
The next day, Whitepetal took Reedpaw out for hunting, but not fishing.
"You'll master land-hunting first," Whitepetal meowed. "The streams might get polluted anytime, so the other mentors and I decided we'd teach you apprentices land-hunting. We have some woodland territory, too. We could start with that. I'll show you."
The white tabby she-cat clumsily crouched. Her crouch was clumsier at first, but her eyes focused, and her muscles tensed. She leapt and sprang, unsheathing her claws and spiking them in the green grass.
She was silent. A moment later, she submerged, her claw hooking a small shrew. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "You try it."
Reedpaw blinked. "Okay."
He scouted the area for some shrews. "I can't find any prey," he confessed.
Whitepetal didn't reply; she simply looked around. "There," she hissed. "By the broken bark. You see that? It's trying to eat something. Maybe a seed. Go. Do what I did."
Silently nodding, Reedpaw set one paw on the grass. The grass rustled, and Reedpaw wanted to smack himself.
Remembering kithood, when he would follow Tawnyclaw, trying to make no sound, Reedpaw set the other paw on the ferns. The ferns didn't whisper anything, and the shrew stayed, nibbling on a pale brown seed.
Swallowing nervously, the silver apprentice took a running leap. He could practically see the shrew's black eyes popping, and its tiny paws raised, and its hind legs pumping.
Reedpaw sensed he was going too far. Pulling himself back, he aimed his claws a bit further than where the shrew was.
When he landed, he felt a strange sensation at his claws. He wouldn't exactly call it pleasant, but it was satisfying, as it showed he had caught the shrew.
"Kill it," called Whitepetal. "It might still be squirming. If you're unlucky, it'll escape."
And it almost was. Reedpaw quickly swept a paw over the shrew. Feeling the hard shock, Reedpaw was sure the shrew was dead.
"Sorry, Shrew," he mumbled.
"Great job," complimented Whitepetal, padding over to him. "First catch on your second day! I caught my first on my twelfth." She purred at Reedpaw, and Reedpaw felt pride puffing out his chest.
"When can I hunt fish?"
Whitepetal's eyes gleamed mischievously, and Reedpaw realized her gleam was alike Rosepaw's. "If you catch ten land prey by the day after tomorrow," she meowed.
Reedpaw nodded, feeling confident. He could, right?
"Don't eat it," Whitepetal earned. "Put it by the reeds, so no one will take it."
"Okay." Reedpaw picked his small shrew up, padded to a nearby pond, and dropped it in the tall reeds.
"Do you accept the challenge?" questioned Whitepetal.
"Sure! One question, though," Reedpaw meowed.
"Spit it," Whitepetal mewed.
"Are you related to Rosepaw? Like, her mother?"
Whitepetal gazed blankly at him. "No," she said slowly, realization spreading across her face. She began to purr. "She's my sister, Reedpaw. Are we that similar?"
"Your gleams in your eyes were really similar," replied Reedpaw.
The white tabby cat nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Then be sure to tell Rosepaw this," she mewed. "And tell me what she said, and how she reacted."
"Okay," Reedpaw meowed.
"Then good luck," Whitepetal mewed. "I think I'll leave you to hunt. When you're tired, call me. I'll be talking with Leafsplash."
"What about Rosepaw?"
"Leafsplash wanted to assess how she was doing."
"Then shouldn't she watch?"
"Rosepaw's practicing on her own first," Whitepetal responded.
"Okay. What will we do when I'm tired?"
Whitepetal let out a mrrow of amusement. "When you're tired of hunting, we might do some hunting. When you're tired, we'll go back to camp."
Reedpaw nodded eagerly. This was only his second day, but he was loving every single second of it.