If Featherpaw were to be honest, she had to say that she was quite disgruntled from her brief but very meaningful meeting with Darkpaw's brother, Sootpaw.
Her first impression of him was that he seemed very sure of himself- and from the way Featherpaw observed him that first night in the apprentices' den, his posture seemed to be almost regal.
It was quite strange and endearing at first, but as time passed and Featherpaw began to grow a little more accustomed to the three other apprentices, Sootpaw seemed to become a little less intimidating.
Still, it didn't mean that Featherpaw was used to him yet, either.
The simple fact that he no longer seemed so scary after that one night didn't mean that she had warmed up to him.
Because this was Sootpaw she was talking about.
From what she had observed of him, Darkpaw's brother truly was a cat to behold. He never seemed to be happy either, what with his numerous frowns and scowls.
But the thing that seemed to bother Featherpaw the most was that Sootpaw seemed too critical. He always wanted everything in perfect order, and she had only known him for a day! Such things as keeping her nest of moss perfectly circular and in proportion to the other nests was not something that Featherpaw wanted to worry about when she was practically dead on her paws, thank you very much!
And it had only been one night.
. . .
When Featherpaw woke that morning, there was a flicker of excitement tickling the back of her mind.
It was her first day of training as an apprentice- a position that Featherpaw hoped to keep in the coming moon. That is, if she managed to prove herself satisfactorily to the leader of WindClan, Morningstar.
Yawning, and blinking open groggy, crusty eyes, Featherpaw raised her head and gazed blearily around the den.
The den was the slightest bit illuminated by the dawn sunlight spilling through the entrance, and the light glowed softly against her fellow apprentices' pelts; shining brilliant gold, steely grey, tawny amber, and snowy white.
Against her will, her eyes flicked to Darkpaw who was lounging in his nest on his belly, his chin on his paws and a contented little smile playing on his lips even in sleep.
When he began to stir slightly, Featherpaw averted her gaze to her patched ginger and white paws, eying her twisted forepaws and wondering exactly how everything came to be.
How she ran away from her Clan in the dead of the night and happened to land right in WindClan territory. How Morningstar herself had offered her sanctuary for the night, and even of how she had met with Darkpaw…
Squabbling over a mouse, no less!
But Featherpaw was far from happy.
She didn't know if she could be happy anymore.
But she was content, she was fine, and she knew she would be for quite a while.
"Featherpaw…?" a tired voice thick from sleep questioned. "… Is that you?"
Before Featherpaw answered, she let out a loud yawn and got to her paws, immersing her in the pleasures of popping the corded muscles in her back and front paws. Finally, she mewed, "Yeah, it is. Did you just wake up, Darkpaw?"
The grey apprentice merely grumbled as he, too, sat up. He began washing his pelt, and when Featherpaw noticed that action, she glanced at her own pelt. A faint grimace curled at her lips at how dishevelled it looked.
Her fur was tangled near her belly and caught into snarls; the fur on her back matted from sleep.
Darkpaw seemed to notice her discomfort, for he got up, padded toward her and took a seat beside her. "Here," he murmured, voice thick and blue eyes still hazy from sleep, "Let me."
Without further ado, he leaned forward and began to lick at her dishevelled, tangled pelt, and as he did this, Featherpaw resolutely kept her gaze fixed on her paws.
A while later, she felt her fur began to smooth down, and when Darkpaw finally pulled away, Featherpaw could feel the tips of her ears burning.
By StarClan! She thought, a tiny, bright smile playing at her lips, did Darkpaw just groom me?
"Your pelt's neat now," Darkpaw said simply, as if that response seemed to answer any and all questions.
"Oh," was all Featherpaw could utter.
She knew she looked like a fool sitting there gaping at him, but when Darkpaw merely chuckled and graced her with a reassuring smile, she felt relief rush through her.
Featherpaw knew that, if by chance, Darkpaw felt something different for her, than she didn't want to be regarded as a complete fool by him, and to know that he didn't think that, sent an inscrutable amount of relief and thankfulness pooling through her.
From the corner of her vision, Featherpaw could sense Mudpaw beginning to stir, and Swiftpaw, too. She also saw that Sootpaw and the new apprentice Swallowpaw, was nowhere to be found.
"Mudpaw," Darkpaw called out softly, his voice a mere whisper in Featherpaw's ear. "You should get up."
Several moments later, Mudpaw stirred again, and in the shadows and sunlight, her silhouette was clearly visible as she sleepily got to her paws. "What time is it?" she called out dreamily, her fawn-like eyes huge against her post-sleep face.
"Time for patrol," Darkpaw answered firmly.
Mudpaw made a sound that seemed to be a mixture of a groan and a sigh, and she half-heartedly made her way to the den's entrance, right near Darkpaw's shoulder.
"Okay," she mewed, huge eyes still glassy from sleep. "Sure, I'm coming right now."
Darkpaw suddenly turned to Featherpaw, mewing, "Will you be fine with finding Scorchfoot on your own?"
Featherpaw avoided his gaze, looking down at the ground as she silently contemplated. "I don't know," she finally admitted, looking up. "What does he look like?"
Darkpaw grinned mischievously. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe a big, uptight grey cat with a permanent scowl on his face with a strict knack for the warrior code. Really, Featherpaw, you can't miss him."
Featherpaw found herself smiling softly back, and it only made her friend's grin curl even wider.
"I'll see you later then?" Featherpaw murmured, a questioning note to her voice.
Darkpaw seemed to be vaguely surprised at her question, but he masked it well. "Of course," he promised, voice soft. "But that'll be later. Me and Mudpaw have a patrol to get to. And on your way out, could you wake Swiftpaw up? I'm sure he'll be hungry before his first day of training."
Featherpaw nodded, and when he left, she noticed that she felt a peculiar feeling that she recognised as emptiness.
Sighing, she made her way over to Swiftpaw, who, by then, had already begun the process of waking himself up and grooming his pelt. When she seated herself in front of him, he raised his head, piercing her with a vivid amber stare.
"You're Featherpaw, right?" he asked shyly, his gaze averting when she merely nodded.
"Darkpaw told me to tell you that should get something to eat in before you meet with your mentor," Featherpaw mewed.
Swiftpaw got to his paws in all haste then, moving with an excitement that never ceased to amuse her.
"Alright then!" Swiftpaw chirped, voice high and hyper. "Let's go!"
Featherpaw cast him a dry look, quietly remarking, "Lead the way."
Despite being in a hyped up haze, Swiftpaw still seemed wary with shyness, and he only nodded at her response.
Featherpaw followed on behind the white and black striped tabby who seemed to know the entire camp's layout by memory.
She limped past various unknown cats, and she as she approached to be what looked like WindClan's fresh-kill pile, she could feel their gazes burning into the back of her head.
"What do you want to eat?" Swiftpaw asked shyly.
"Hm?" Featherpaw glanced at him, than back at the fresh-kill pile, and she could feel her mouth beginning to water as the various scents of prey assaulted her nose.
"Anything you want," she muttered.
Swiftpaw beamed happily at that, and a few moments later, they were tucking into a medium sized rabbit.
They finished not long after, and Featherpaw went on a search for her mentor. She committed Darkpaw's description to memory, but she couldn't see any cat that matched it.
"Why are wandering around the camp like a little lost kit?" a familiar voice suddenly questioned, sounding cool and hard.
Featherpaw turned, and without seeing who it was, she mewed, "I'm looking for a cat named Scorchfoot. He's my mentor…" she trailed off when she saw who it was.
Sootpaw glared down at her, and his words were sharp: "Scorchfoot is your mentor?"
Featherpaw nodded, eying him warily. Sootpaw had made it quite clear the previous night that he would be doing her no favours, and that she definitely did not have his respect.
So what was he doing…?
Ignoring her wide, wide eyes, Sootpaw muttered, "Follow me."
Then he turned on his heel and left.
Featherpaw gazed at his departing back for a few moments before she simply followed after him.
He would bring her to Scorchfoot.