Firepaw awoke to shaking. He sleepily opened his eyes, only to be instantly blinded by the early morning sun. He squeezed them shut again and heaved himself into a sitting position, then reopened them. He noticed that he had remained outside for the entire night.
"Good morning!" Stormpaw greeted him cheerfully. "Tigerclaw and Ravenpaw are on one of the dawn patrols, so it's just me and Lionheart training you for now."
"Okay," Firepaw shrugged, getting to his paws to stretch his legs. "What're we doing?"
"We're gonna take you on a territory tour, but we'll also probably do something else later," Stormpaw replied. "If your pads hurt yesterday, then you won't even wanna imagine what today will be like."
Firepaw cringed. "Doesn't sound fun."
"It's not, but you'll get used to all the walking," the bicolor assured him. "Only took me about a half moon." He suddenly looked up excitedly. "Don't look, Firepaw, but Cherrysong is staring at us!"
Firepaw turned his head to make eye contact with a calico she-cat on the other side of camp. Her jade gaze quickly left them when she was noticed. The ginger kit looked back over at his friend.
"I told you not to look!" Stormpaw whispered.
"What's so special about her?" he asked.
"Are you kidding?!" Stormpaw gasped. "She's the prettiest, sweetest she-cat in the Clans! I think she might like me. Don't you know how happy that'd make me?"
"She's over there talking to Longtail, though," Firepaw pointed out. "I doubt she's all that great."
"One, they were just put on a hunting patrol together," Stormpaw meowed. "Two, they're littermates. Why wouldn't she talk to her own brother?"
"I guess you have a point," Firepaw admitted. "I still don't understand, though."
Lionheart padding over halted the conversation. "Let's go," he meowed. "You two can eat after we get back and you do your duties."
"Not even a little sparrow before we head out?" Stormpaw asked.
Lionheart smiled. "Let's go."
Stormpaw sighed, but had a grin on his muzzle nonetheless. The three cats left camp wordlessly, yet this didn't last long. The two apprentices began chattering about nothing in particular. However, the beginning of the tour silenced them.
"This, Firepaw, is what we call the sandy hollow," Lionheart meowed. "There are no apprentices here now, but there will be soon. This is where our young cats learn their battle skills."
Firepaw stepped onto the soft sand. He was standing in a small clearing covered in the pale substance. That's all it seemed to be.
"Why did you choose this place to practice fighting?" Firepaw asked.
"We didn't," Lionheart responded. "Our ancient ancestors did. However, you're sadly unable to ask them. My guess is that it was the best use for this place."
They continued along to a part of the forest that suddenly turned from oak trees to pines. "Where did the oaks go?" Firepaw asked with a confused tone.
"They stop once we reach this area," Lionheart explained to him. "That's why we call this place Tallpines. Nearby is the Treecut Place, which we avoid at all costs. It's silent today, but this is a very loud area during the warm seasons. They cut down trees around here with huge, special monsters."
"I'm sure Snakerocks is more dangerous than Treecut Place," Stormpaw told his mentor.
"Just because something is worse doesn't mean that it isn't bad," Lionheart countered.
"What's Snakerocks?" Firepaw inquired.
"A place that we won't be visiting anytime soon," Lionheart replied. "Such a place is deadly for a tiny kit like yourself."
"I'm half-grown!" Firepaw corrected.
"Yes, but that's still small," the tabby warrior snorted. "Let's keep moving. We have a lot of ground to cover."
And so they moved on. They walked a long way before stopping again. Firepaw had to sit on one of many gray boulders to ease his aching paws. A river sliced through the land in front of them. He could see stones in it, presumably to use in order to get across.
"This is Sunningrocks," Lionheart informed him. "It's our border with RiverClan. We currently own this strip of land, but those fish-munchers continue to fight us for it. Tensions have been rising lately, so it cannot be long before the next battle."
"Was a battle for Sunningrocks the one that Thistleclaw died in?" Firepaw asked.
Lionheart's pale green eyes widened with surprise. "Who told you about Thistleclaw?"
"Spottedleaf," Firepaw answered. "She said that he was like a brother to her, but she doesn't seem to want to talk about it."
The warrior's eyes darkened. "I see," he murmured, turning away to face RiverClan territory. "Yes, he died in a battle for Sunningrocks. RiverClan had owned it previously, and Bluestar devised a plan to get it back. It worked, but we lost two warriors."
"Two?"
"Thistleclaw, as you already know, and a tom named Fuzzypelt," Lionheart meowed. "Fuzzypelt is the father of Dustpaw and Ravenpaw. Robinwing was still pregnant with them when he died. He was simply too old; he was a warrior when Bluestar herself was kitted. He refused to retire, and he ended up giving his life in battle."
"What happened to Robinwing?" Firepaw mewed, knowing about her from Ravenpaw but not knowing her cause of death.
"Greencough the leaf-bare after." Lionheart looked back to him. "But we're getting off-topic. Smell the air."
Firepaw did so, and found a stranger scent wafting over from the other side of the river. "What is it?" he asked.
"RiverClan scent, of course!" Lionheart replied. "The wind is blowing our way today, so we can easily smell their rank. Don't worry, though; we won't have to deal with it daily."
"ShadowClan smells worse," Stormpaw spoke up as they began walking again. "I bet that-"
"Greetings," a light voice meowed ahead of them.
Firepaw turned his head forward, it having been backward to look at Stormpaw, to see a patrol. It included Redtail, Tigerclaw, a pale gray she-cat, and Ravenpaw.
"Good morning, Redtail," Lionheart greeted the deputy. "What took you so long to get moving?"
"Ravenpaw insisted that we eat something first," Tigerclaw growled, glaring at the lanky apprentice.
"Sorry," Ravenpaw murmured, his eyes cast downward.
"How's the tour going?" the gray warrior asked.
"It's good, Willowpelt," Stormpaw answered.
"Enough talking," Redtail meowed gently but sternly. "We must get on with the patrol. Good day to you three."
"Good day," mentor and apprentices echoed as the patrol moved quickly past them. The trio kept walking as well.
It wasn't long before they came to a tall oak that had a gaping black hole near the top. "This is the Owl Tree," Lionheart mewed. "That hole is where the owl lives. You see these bundles?" He motioned to multiple small bundles scattered around the foot of the tree. "Owls's bodies cannot break down bones of prey like ours can, so they just throw it all back up. And those are the result."
"Gross," Firepaw murmured.
"At least you weren't told to grab it," Stormpaw meowed. "Lionheart did that to me, and only told me what they were afterward."
Suddenly, yowls split the air. It came from the direction they'd just come. "Something is happening!" Firepaw mewed, shaken.
"A battle," Lionheart growled. "Very well. Stormpaw, Firepaw, you two go back to camp! I must help my Clanmates."
"You've taught me how to fight; let me help!" Stormpaw protested.
"You've hardly even mastered the basics!" Lionheart corrected. "Go to camp immediately, or I'll have to punish you. We can finish the tour later." He dashed off to Sunningrocks.
Stormpaw huffed. "He thinks I can't do anything!" he complained. "I just want to help fight."
"It's probably best to do what he told us," Firepaw reasoned. He knew that although Stormpaw acted tough, he wouldn't stand a chance against fully trained warriors.
Stormpaw sighed, "Fine, but only because you're here. If you weren't, I'd have nothing to live for. I'd be willing to die fighting for ThunderClan." He began walking towards camp.
"You have our Clanmates to live for," Firepaw reminded him, padding close to his side.
"Not before you arrived," Stormpaw shook his head, his usual energetic and cheery mood turning dark. "No one likes me here, except for Ravenpaw. I bet even Lionheart doesn't like mentoring me. All because I used to be a kittypet."
"You could've come home," Firepaw pointed out. "I'm sure your housefolk would've been glad to take you back in."
"It's not that simple," Stormpaw told him. "When I took a new name and got rid of my collar, I made an oath to ThunderClan: that I would dedicate full loyalty to them. It's part of the warrior code to reject the soft life of a kittypet, after all. I couldn't have a paw in two worlds. Even thinking about home felt like betraying them."
"But what would the code matter if you left?" Firepaw asked. "You could just ignore it if you became a house cat again. You-"
"Agh, Rusty!" Stormpaw snapped, whipping around to snarl at him. He put a forepaw in his path to stop him from moving forward. "You don't get it!"
"Is that why you called me 'Rusty' and not my new name?" Firepaw meowed, taken off-guard.
Stormpaw's eyes widened, as if he'd only just noticed. He looked away. "Old habits die hard," he murmured. "I still feel like a kittypet sometimes. I still miss my housefolk, and my bed, and my sunning spot on the counter. Sometimes I wish I hadn't have left. I feel like I'm the only reason you're here. If I would've stayed, you would've too. You wouldn't have had to leave your home."
"That isn't true," Firepaw told his friend. "I would've probably ended up leaving sooner or later, anyway. I feel right out here. I couldn't imagine staying as a house cat." He sighed. "Let's go back to camp," he mewed.
Stormpaw nodded as they got moving again. "Let's."