"Whitewind! Orangefeather!"
Reedpaw watched his former denmates, looking prideful. His heart skipped a beat as he thought of his own ceremony, which was only a few moons away.
"You'll get your own name if you train hard," he heard Cherryfern mew softly to Dewpaw.
Dewpaw brightened, his ears perking up. "Of course!"
Cherryfern's soft bribing never got old. Sorrelfrost was watching Cherryfern with an amused look on her face. "That is right," she hissed to Stormpaw.
Stormpaw nodded eagerly. "Their names are so pretty."
"Not as mine," mewed Sundawn slyly.
She'd done an effort on trying to be friendlier, and it worked on Stormpaw and Dewpaw, since they were more open. But Mistykit and Rainingkit seemed suspicious, and Creampaw refused to let Sundawn into her heart. She just didn't want to admit she was wrong, Reedpaw assumed.
Oakpaw, Ripplepaw, and Honeypaw were making an effort to look like they accepted her.
That was good.
"Yeah, your name is pretty," Stormpaw agreed. "What do you think my name will be? Stormfoot? Stormstripe? Stormclaw? Stormfang? Stormpelt?" He looked up at Sundawn for suggestions.
"Stormquestion," Sundawn offered.
"Hey!"
Sundawn purred. "You'll get a great name."
"Whitewind!" cheered Oakpaw. "And Orangefeather! StarClan, you guys are so lucky! Your names are amazing, too!"
"Thanks," Whitewind meowed proudly;.
Suddenly, Whitewind and Orangefeather seemed… more mature.
Whitewind was gripping the marshy grounds firmly and sturdily with his one black paw and other three white ones.
Orangefeather's orangey pelt wasn't ruffled or messy at all. In fact, it was sleek and shiny, and his expression was confident as well.
Reedpaw wondered if he would look like that if he was presented his new name.
"It's amazing, huh?" asked Orangefeather cheerily, and immediately, his mature air vanished.
"Yeah, you're great," Reedpaw meowed, trying to keep his tone bright and enthusiastic.
"I want to be a warrior!" whined Stormpaw.
"Me too!" sighed Dewpaw.
"Like we don't?" retorted Rainingpaw.
"Then train," Cherryfern meowed sternly. "Whining and sighing won't get you anywhere."
"That's right," chimed in Sorrelfrost.
Dewpaw gave another huge sigh. "Okay, Cherryfern."
Quietly, Reedpaw slipped away from the congratulating mob. He gazed at the apprentices' den. Whitewind and Orangefeather's nests were already removed.
The whole den seemed hollow. There were now only seven nests, when there used to be about ten. He hadn't liked it when they all squeezed together, but he disliked it even more when the nests were removed.
"C'mon, Reedpaw! Er, Cherryfern? Sorrelfrost? Have you seen Reedpaw?"
"He was right here," Cherryfern mewed. "He must've went. Maybe the apprentices' den?"
"Hmm. Thanks. We're on patrol."
"Oh? Along what border, may I ask?" Sorrelfrost asked.
"Along the ShadowClan one," Whitepetal meowed seriously. "We've gotten recent threats from that one, and Silverstar stationed more patrols. I hope she won't get too paranoid and leave camp unguarded."
"Still, the two streams might be enough," Sorrelfrost offered.
"That's true, but you don't know what sly ShadowClan will do. To be fair, all Clans are sly. But ShadowClan! I hate ShadowClan."
"Peace, young one," imitated Cherryfern. "That's what my mother used to say when I got angry."
"Ah, yes. I heard that every second of my life," chimed in Sorrelfrost.
"Oh? I think I remember Wrentail saying that. Well, I'd better get going. You suggested the apprentices' den?"
"Yes," Cherryfern replied.
"I'm here," Reedpaw called dryly, poking his head out of the apprentices' den.
Whitepetal brightened. "Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed. "We're going along the ShadowClan border." Her hazel eyes hardened. "They're sly, so keep care."
"Okay," Reedpaw mewed. "It's likely we'll see a patrol, right?"
Whitepetal glanced at him. "Why, yes," she agreed. "Why did you think that? Or, rather," she corrected herself, interest sparking in her gaze, "how did you know that?"
"Because RiverClan cats have been patrolling that are recently. ShadowClan cats aren't blind, nor deaf. They must've noticed us. So naturally, I thought they might want to post extra patrols, too. They might think we'll want to invade."
"That's not true. Ottersnow had a dream, and Sparrowheart apparently scented some cats past our border."
"But there may be misunderstandings," pointed out Reedpaw evenly.
"You are right," Whitepetal mewed, "but sometimes the other side doesn't think like that." She narrowed her eyes. "Let's go. We're with Sparrowheart, Shatteredclaw, and Swiftclaw."
"All S's," remarked Reedpaw.
Whitepetal blinked in amusement. "You're right." She turned away. "They might be waiting by the camp entrance," she continued. "C'mon."
And the three S's were indeed waiting by the camp entrance.
Impatient Swiftclaw had already crossed the stream, and Sparrowheart and Shatteredclaw were waiting.
"Finally!" Swiftclaw exclaimed. "Come quick. The day's young, but it'll get old."
"Keep even pace," called Whitepetal, jumping across the stream.
"Yes," called the black and dappled she-cat hastily.
The white she-cat rolled her eyes. "Wait," she corrected herself.
"Fine!" Swiftclaw stopped in her tracks.
"You really are fast, aren't you?" Sparrowheart asked, a trace of admire in his voice.
Swiftclaw glanced at him. "Why, thank you. No one's ever said that before." She gazed at Whitepetal sternly, her yellow eyes glowing with meaning.
"Just because I haven't said that doesn't mean I don't think that," mewed Whitepetal hastily.
"Thank you, old friend," muttered Swiftclaw.
Whitepetal glanced back at Reedpaw. "If Swiftclaw wasn't to be swift, let's be swift." She quickened her pace, and Reedpaw followed her example.
"You're so nice," purred Swiftclaw.
"Ugh," muttered Shatteredclaw from behind. "This is why you should never ever be on the same patrol with Swiftclaw and Whitepetal. Remember that, Sparrowheart, and when Tansyflight says you're in with them, say you want to see Ottersnow because you think you're going to die."
"Ah," Sparrowheart mewed, sounding amused.
Swiftclaw glanced at the dark pines. "We're here." Then she narrowed her eyes. "There comes a patrol," she hissed softly.
A shady ShadowClan patrol stalked towards them. There were two blue-gray cats, one tawny, and the other snowy white.
"Don't cross the border," hissed one.
Swiftclaw bared her fangs at the blue-gray she-cat. "I think I should be the one saying that… to you."
The she-cat cocked her head, sneering. "Typical RiverClan cats. Too lazy, so they copy everything. You copied our fighting technique moons ago; we haven't forgotten."
Shatteredclaw jumped in, snarling. "Cinderjaw," he hissed. "You always thought ShadowClan was the best."
"Because it is!" another blue-gray cat exclaimed indignantly. Her blue eyes were shining with frustration and anxiety. This cat seemed bluer than Cinderjaw.
"Shut it, Juniperfrost," snapped a tawny she-cat.
"I don't know why're you're saying that," argued Juniperfrost crossly. "Honestly, Tinyoak…"
Tinyoak narrowed her eyes. "We don't need to fight," she insisted.
"You just snapped at me! Besides, Tinyoak, you're so naïve!"
"Don't call me naïve," muttered the tawny-colored she-cat.
"You are."
Reedpaw didn't know whether to feel amused that these fully grown, mature cats were arguing about a simple thing, or feel troubled that this was growing.
Sparrowheart was standing back, his eyes scanning the arguing cats.
"You all are standing on the border," he mewed finally.
Nobody heard him.
"That's obnoxious!" Whitepetal was snapping. "Ugh!"
The tawny ShadowClan warrior narrowed her eyes. "You're obnoxious," she hissed. "RiverClan is trying to take our territory!"
"Us?" exclaimed Whitepetal, her voice an octave higher than usual. "You ShadowClan are leaving scent marks inside our territory! There's the cat who spotted it for the first time here! Sparrowheart, say something!"
Sparrowheart stepped forward. "It's amazing how you ShadowClan cats will never admit you did wrong," he meowed silkily. "Now, lots have seen the evidence. Lynxfoot, Whitewind, Roseleap, and Windfeather have all seen your filthy rats and scented your scents. Yes, I forgot Eagleshade and our deputy, Tansyflight."
Cinderjaw's slightly crooked jaw twisted into a sneer. "Eagleshade?" she asked softly. Her eyes gleamed with menace, and Reedpaw's heart twisted at the thought of Sparrowheart perhaps giving up their weakness, whatever that was. "Well, tell him the whole of ShadowClan says hello."
Juniperfrost tilted her head, for once not looking any anxious or frustrated. She seemed greatly amused.
Whitepetal hissed.
"No, they won't, Cinderjaw. Yes, me."
Cinderjaw twisted her head to see. "Ah, speak of the devil."
Eagleshade twisted his way out of the small bushes. "Everyone's here. Hi, Cinderjaw. You might not want to see me, though. Oh, Juniperfrost. You've gotten… bluer. That's a compliment. Oh, Tinyoak, you're still tiny. And why, Splashheart! Where were you? Did you go somewhere where it snows in greenleaf? I mena, your pelt! So white! Snow white."
"It's almost leaf-fall, idiot," hissed Splashheart. "And who are you to taunt us? You're much younger than us."
"Which means you'll die earlier than me."
"Not if I kill you," snarled Cinderjaw nastily.
Sparrowheart sighed. "Are you a murderer?"
Reedpaw couldn't figure out what was going on. Why were Cinderjaw and Juniperfrost laughing at Eagleshade? He hadn't done anything wrong, had he?
"Let's go," spat Swiftclaw. She glared at Cinderjaw. "Some cats just aren't worth your times."
"Says you," snarled Splashheart, her eyes narrowing.
"Yes, says Swiftclaw," Whitepetal hissed. Her fur was bristling; she looked as twice her normal size. "And so do I."
The ShadowClan cats sneered, and turned back.
Reedpaw saw Cinderjaw slap her tail against the ground where Swiftclaw stood seconds ago. He shivered at the aggressiveness, which could, he assumed, be viewed by loyalty by some. Maybe Sparrowheart.
"Those idiots!" fumed Swiftclaw.
"You were wrong," Shatteredclaw meowed. "Cinderjaw… You shouldn't really touch her."
"Yeah? She shouldn't've touched me!" Swiftclaw exclaimed.
"She shouldn't have touched me," repeated Eagleshade darkly.
"What were you doing? Were you trying to see your mother or something?" snapped Whitepetal, turning her gaze to him.
"No," Eagleshade spat. "I was just wandering around."
The white she-cat snorted, and rolled her eyes.
"Seriously," muttered Shatteredclaw, glancing at the young warrior with an obvious look of displeasure.
"Honestly, Shatteredclaw," hissed Swiftclaw. Reedpaw stared at them, curiosity bubbling inside him."You of all cats should understand Eagleshade's decision… Remember Night…?" She trailed off as she noticed Reedpaw looking.
Shatteredclaw swept his tail across the ground dismissively. "That's that, and this is this."
"Wonderful logic," Swiftclaw meowed sarcastically.
Whitepetal turned away from both of the cats, and faced Reedpaw firmly. Today," she started, "we'll try to swim."
"You? Swim?" repeated Swiftclaw. A surprised look passed her face, and her yellow eyes narrowed with suspicion. "That's interesting."
"I can't keep on avoiding water forever," retorted Whitepetal. "I fell in the water yesterday. I almost drowned."
"Nice story. You should definitely teach your poor apprentice how to swim. Or he'll drown, just because he had a mentor like you, who…" Swiftclaw shrugged.
Whitepetal sighed. "That's nothing," she meowed dismissively. "We'll try first in shallow waters. Is that good with you?" She peered at Reedpaw curiously.
"Sure." His heart was thumping wildly.
"We'll just go to camp. Okay? Good?" asked Swiftclaw.
Whitepetal nodded, and Swiftclaw led Sparrowheart and Shatteredclaw away.
"Let's go," Reedpaw breathed.
Whitepetal nodded briskly, and started back towards camp. But still, she stopped. They were near camp; Reedpaw could scent warmth.
"Come, Reedpaw. We'll try to wade."
She led Reedpaw to a shallow pool.
"Dip your paws in," she instructed. "If it's cold, wait. Wait until the coldness fades."
Trembling, half with anticipation, and half with fear, Reedpaw sank his paws into the cool water.
A cool sensation spread into his body, from his forepaws to his pricking ears.
"So far, so good," breathed Whitepetal. She seemed more nervous than Reedpaw was. She sank into the pool, and lowered herself. "Lower yourself deeper. Crouch. Fold your legs until your paws don't touch the ground."
Reedpaw slowly crouched, his legs folding until he could feel the sandy ground anymore.
Panicking, he splashed, and splashed, gulping water, until he finally regained balance.
"Don't panic," Whitepetal continued. "Even if you don't touch the ground, relax, and lift your chin. C'mon, try. And when you think you're going to sink, gently straighten your legs, raise your chin so you don't drown, and let yourself sink enough. This water is shallow, so you won't drown until you panic or purposely die."
The silver tom, taking a deep breath, lowered himself. His paws left the sand, and he relaxed.
The tension in his shoulders faded, and his fur plastered to his pelt, Reedpaw floated.
He was lifted. The water lifted him, and excitement bubbled within him.
"You're floating!" exclaimed Whitepetal. "Good, good. Don't do anything. Just float. Now, slowly move your paws. Front, then back. Carefully. Don't splash too much, or you'll sink. Relax and move."
How is relaxing and moving at the same time possible? wondered Reedpaw, but he tried to do it, anyway.
Taking deep breaths, he slowly closed his eyes, and paddled. It was like walking. The water was… somehow thicker than how it was on ground.
The splashes were rather inspiring; his heartbeat slowed and relaxed.
"You're doing great," Whitepetal called.
Reedpaw cautiously tipped his head to one side, trying to see her.
Whitepetal's white shape was stiff, and her hazel eyes were wide. "I mean," she fumbled. "I'm just…"
"Why aren't you swimming?"
Whitepetal blinked. "I really can't," she muttered.
"Why not?" It seemed wrong to pry.
"There was… something," confessed Whitepetal, and Reedpaw was surprised that she'd give up so soon. "When I was an apprentice. Young little Whitepaw was so naïve. She thought she could wade into the deepest waters when she'd only practiced for a week. So, alone, she snuck out at night, and she waded into the cold, dark waters.
"I got scared, Reedpaw. But I continued, because my pride was too strong for my good. And finally, my paws lost ground, and I began to swim.
"It was nice, at first. But I was cold, and I was getting tired. But the lake was too big, and I couldn't figure out where was shore. The water was dark and moody; I couldn't see underwater. And I had floated and swam away from RiverClan. There would be no Clan to save me now."
"So what happened?" Reedpaw wanted to know.
"I lost consciousness," Whitepetal replied, her voice throaty and choking. "The next thing I knew, I was in ThunderClan territory, and a kind white medicine cat with gray speckles was treating me. She'd lost her mentor a few days ago. He was apparently too tired by treating greencough patients. He'd wandered out and never came back. Lilywillow, that was her name, assumed he drowned.
"I liked her. Her story was full of grief, but she treated me. Lilywillow told me her mentor had an omen and quickly named her. The next day he died." Whitepetal gave a shudder. "I still remember that."
Reedpaw closed his eyes.
"It became a trauma for me, though. Even though nice cats helped me…. I remember this one cat. Lightflare, I think. She was very kind to me. She was quiet, but she still helped me. Those two ThunderClan cats hold special places in my heart."
Reedpaw's throat throbbed. "I can't believe you went through all that," he murmured.
Whitepetal turned her gaze on him. "But I have to get out of that memory someday," she mewed.
"It's great Lightflare and Lilywillow helped you."
"But we're enemies now," warned Whitepetal. "I see Lightflare at Gatherings. We just… politely say hello. I wish there was more friendship." She sank back. "And Lilywillow? Ottersnow just sometimes says she asks about me. Like, once." She shrugged. "I guess I don't really mind that much, though. I have friends inside the Clan, like Cherryfern and Sorrelfrost. That's enough for me."
Reedpaw nodded.
How come every cat didn't really care about friendships outside Clans breaking so easily?
The fragile relationships were to be treasured. If he had a relationship like that, he would treasure it more than anything. It was a good source out, to be free of expectations.
Instead, he just dunked his head.
Blinking open his eyes, he could relax , half-floating underwater.