Author's Note: Hey, I'm back! I was literally one paragraph short of posting this chapter last weekend, but I got a little too busy to finish it. Here it is now, though. :) I'm curious to see if you think any differently about Flamepaw after a little chapter from his point of view. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors or anything that has to do with it.

Chapter Three: Flamepaw's Thoughts

Flamepaw rested by the apprentice's den, tired after a long day of hunting. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the camp and turning the sky into fire. The Clan was eating prey and sharing tongues in preparation for the night. He watched his Clanmates through half-closed eyes, feeling somewhat distant, yet entertained by their activities. Icepaw and Stormpaw were play-fighting near the entrance to camp, wrestling and squealing with excitement. Cloudfur and her sister, Featherwing, watched them, murmuring to one another about how much the young apprentices had grown up since their first days in the nursery.

Flamepaw's gaze traveled to the other warriors. Falconstar was sharing prey with the senior warriors: Gingerpelt, Tigerfang, Graywhisker, and Wolftail, as well as his deputy Hazelclaw and the Clan's only elder, a gray she-cat named Rainwater. They were too far away for Flamepaw to hear what they were saying, but they seemed at ease, stretching contentedly and talking quietly.

Not far away from them, Ravenflight was washing his ears, half listening to the conversations of the other cats and half lost in thought. Flamepaw noticed that Blackpaw was watching his father, seeming hesitant for some reason. Perhaps the older apprentice wanted to speak with Ravenflight, but thought that the black warrior would not take kindly to interruption. Flamepaw was not good at understanding his Clanmates or reading their emotions, since he spent so much time by himself. He shrugged it off, turning his attention to the younger warriors.

Pineclaw was telling a story about how he had fought off a badger soon after his warrior ceremony. "I jumped right on his back, and stuck my claws in his ears!" he boasted, reenacting the move for his audience. Snowfall, the Clan's youngest warrior, watched in awe, but Rosethorn and Honeyflame twitched their ears skeptically. Flamepaw couldn't tell whether his mentor, Lionvoice, believed the story, but the golden warrior certainly seemed amused by the tale.

Sandfoot, a pale ginger tom, was looking at Snowfall, fidgeting slightly. Flamepaw tilted his head to one side, bemused. What did the grumpy warrior want with the shy white she-cat? Did he want to join the group of younger warriors, perhaps? Or was it just Snowfall in particular that he wanted to speak with?

"Boo!" a voice suddenly shouted in his ear, making Flamepaw jump and snapping him out of his thoughts. He whirled around, heart pounding, only to find Vixenpaw standing behind him, her green eyes gleaming with amusement.

"That is just way too funny," she laughed. "I couldn't help myself."

Flamepaw flicked his tail, torn between amusement and annoyance. "Don't do that," he mewed crossly.

"Don't be a grouch," his sister said. "Did you eat yet?"

He shook his head. "I picked out this pigeon, but I couldn't eat it by myself," he explained, nudging it with one paw. "Want to share?"

"Sure," Vixenpaw replied. She settled down beside him, taking a mouthful of the plump bird. "It's very tasty," she mewed in delight. "Did you catch it yourself?"

"Yep," he said proudly. He was exceptionally pleased with this catch. Normally he was easily distracted and his prey got away from him, but today he had been able to focus quite well. The pigeon was his prize.

"Great!" said Vixenpaw, seeming proud of him too. They both took a few more bites of the pigeon. They sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the rowdy growls of Icepaw and Stormpaw as the gray apprentice pinned his sister to the ground.

"Get off!" yowled Icepaw, struggling in his grip. Stormpaw let out a mrrow of laughter, his green eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. Icepaw surged upward, trying to throw her brother off, but he was just too heavy. She flopped back down, panting. "Okay, you win," she gasped, her tail lashing wildly. Stormpaw let out a purr of glee and jumped off her. Icepaw got to her feet, smoothing her pelt indignantly with a couple of licks.

They look like they're having fun, Flamepaw thought, amused. Stormpaw sat down and licked one paw, his eyes shining proudly as his sister complimented his fighting skills. I remember play-fighting in the nursery with Branchpaw and Vixenpaw when we were kits. I almost never won, but when I did, I was so proud of myself. I'm still trailing behind them, he realized. But I don't mind. I'm proud of what I can accomplish, and when my littermates succeed, I'm happy enough for them.

After a while, Vixenpaw broke the silence. "Did you hear about Branchpaw's accident earlier today?" she asked.

"Yes," said Flamepaw. "I heard he hurt his shoulder by falling into a tunnel under the Thunderpath. Gingerpelt told me that Nightwatcher took care of him, though." There was no need for him to worry about his brother. Branchpaw was strong, and would heal quickly with a bit of rest.

"Have you gone to see him?" Vixenpaw pressed.

Flamepaw shook his head. Even though Branchpaw was his brother, he felt awkward going to talk to him by himself. Neither of them were as energetic or talkative as Vixenpaw and when the two of them tried to have a conversation alone, they often lapsed into uncomfortable silence. When all three of them were together, it was alright, but without Vixenpaw, Flamepaw just didn't know what to say. Branchpaw was just so much better at everything than Flamepaw was. Trying to talk to him on his own was like going to talk to one of the senior warriors, who were revered by their Clanmates and didn't have time to be bothered by the younger, less experienced cats. Flamepaw didn't resent Branchpaw's success, but their levels of skill were so far apart that they didn't have much in common.

"Well, you should visit him," Vixenpaw mewed matter-of-factly. "He must be so bored sitting there by himself. I already went to see him; he'll want to see his little brother too, won't he?" The way her eyes bored into his made it seem like a challenge.

"Okay, I will," he conceded, looking away and feeling his fur bristle up uneasily.

Vixenpaw seemed satisfied. "You should bring some prey with you," she said. "I don't think that he's had anything to eat since this morning, after we returned to camp from the dawn patrol. He's probably starving by now."

"Right," mewed Flamepaw. He took one last bite of the pigeon before getting up and padding over to the fresh-kill pile. He picked up a squirrel and brought it over to the medicine clearing. The smell of fresh herbs greeted him as he peered into the darkness of the medicine den. Nightwatcher wasn't there, but Branchpaw was curled up in one of the nests. Thinking that he was sleeping, Flamepaw placed the squirrel beside his brother and went to leave, but Branchpaw raised his head when Flamepaw approached. The ginger apprentice felt his fur prickle awkwardly.

"Hey," said Branchpaw, sounding sleepy. "Is that for me?"

"Yes," said Flamepaw, shuffling his paws. "Vixenpaw said I should bring it for you."

"I see," mewed Branchpaw, the light returning to his green eyes as he gazed at the squirrel. "Thanks," he added, moving the prey toward him with one paw and taking a bite. "I really needed this. You have no idea how hungry I was." His ears perked up happily as he dug into his meal.

Flamepaw watched him eat for a moment, racking his brains for something to say. "How are you feeling?" he managed at last.

Branchpaw paused, swallowing. "Better," he decided. "My shoulder still hurts, but it's not nearly as bad as it was before."

"That's good," said Flamepaw. He realized that it was easier to talk about factual things than to try to find something personal to say. "So, did Nightwatcher tell you when you would be able to get back to training?" he asked.

"No," said Branchpaw. "Well, I mean, we did talk about it, but he didn't really give me a straight answer. He said that it depended on how fast I heal. It'll be a few days before he can tell me exactly how long I'll have to wait."

"Right," Flamepaw mewed. "So..." he trailed off.

"What kind of training did you do with Lionvoice today?" Branchpaw asked, seeming to sense that his brother was running out of things to say.

"Hunting," said Flamepaw, grateful to have a topic that he could actually talk about. "We went to the deepest parts of ThunderClan territory and hunted in the trees. I caught a pigeon and a squirrel."

"Nice," said Branchpaw appreciatively. "Is this one yours?" he asked, nudging the squirrel as he took another bite.

"I don't think so. I think Stormpaw brought the one I caught to Rainwater."

"Oh." There was a moment of silence as Branchpaw chewed and swallowed his mouthful of prey. "So, did anything else exciting happen today?"

"Um..." Flamepaw thought about it. "Tigerfang made Icepaw clean out the apprentice's den as punishment for wandering off with the dawn patrol... Rosethorn, Featherwing, and Stormpaw encountered a RiverClan patrol on the border..."

"Was there a fight?"

"No, they weren't hostile. But I heard Rosethorn mention it to Falconstar and Hazelclaw."

"Hmm," said Branchpaw, finishing the squirrel. "Thanks again for the prey. You'll have to bring me some more news tomorrow. I can tell already that I'm going to get bored staying here all day."

Flamepaw purred sympathetically. "Okay," he said. "I'd better go now. Lionvoice said he would wake me up early tomorrow so we could get in a good day of training."

"Oh, bad luck," said Branchpaw. "But at least you can go training."

"Yeah," said Flamepaw. "So... I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."

"'Night," his brother mewed, waving his tail in farewell as Flamepaw turned and padded out of the medicine den. As he emerged into the main area of the camp, he noticed that the sun had sunk farther over the horizon, vanishing from sight, but leaving its fiery glow behind. The cats of ThunderClan were yawning and dispersing to their various dens for the night. Vixenpaw was mewing cheerfully to Stormpaw and Icepaw as the three of them headed into the apprentice's den. Flamepaw considered following them, but he decided that he wasn't ready to sleep yet. Instead, he climbed the edge of the ravine and stood at the top, looking out over the forest and letting the wind play with his fur.

Flamepaw had always known that he wasn't like the other apprentices. He wasn't a good hunter, like Branchpaw or Icepaw. He wasn't a good fighter, like Vixenpaw or Stormpaw. He didn't have any strong points when it came to being a warrior. He was much too dreamy to catch prey or be any use in a fight. So what am I good at? he wondered.

He tipped back his head to look at the sky, which was darkening to the deep shades of twilight. An inky blue was replacing the orange and yellow of sunset, and stars were beginning to dot the sky. The moon was rising, half dark and half light. Flamepaw turned to look at it on the darker horizon. He'd heard that the medicine cats used to travel to a huge cave called Mothermouth on the half-moon, where they believed that they shared tongues with their ancestors in their dreams. Flamepaw found it hard to believe that the fallen warriors formed a new Clan after they passed away. Apparently, the other warriors had seen things the same way, for StarClan was no longer mentioned in ceremonies, visited by medicine cats, or believed in by anyone. The warriors didn't even think about it much; the only time that Flamepaw had ever heard StarClan mentioned was in stories told by Rainwater and the senior warriors.

But if StarClan didn't exist, then why did Flamepaw feel that the forest seemed to speak to him? The wind rustling in the trees seemed like whispers to his attentive ears. The call of a bird at dusk seemed like a soothing lullaby. The clouds stained gold with the light of the setting sun seemed like a promise for a better tomorrow. Was it all in his mind?

Or was it possible that someone, somewhere, was speaking to him, in a voice that only he could hear?

A shuffling noise behind him made him turn. Nightwatcher had reappeared and was standing beside the medicine den, herbs clamped in his jaws. He placed them down at his paws, sitting down and turning his eyes upward. Sadness flooded his gaze as he looked at the sky, as though he was remembering something that he had lost long ago.

Flamepaw watched him, bemused. What made the medicine cat look so upset? Flamepaw had sometimes crossed the camp during the night, for various reasons, and when he turned his gaze in the direction of the medicine den, Nightwatcher was always there, looking at the night sky. He never spoke, hardly moved, and never looked away. He would always look so lonely, so lost, that Flamepaw wanted to comfort him. But the ginger apprentice could never find the words. He cursed his own reluctance to speak. He should want to comfort his Clanmates when they were sad. Yet he always felt worlds away, as though he were nothing more than a shadow in a land of color and substance.

As Flamepaw stood there, wondering what to do, Nightwatcher turned his gaze from the sky to the apprentice. Flamepaw breathed in sharply, wondering if he was far enough away to be hidden by the shadows of the twilight. But the medicine cat's calm, blue gaze was clear and focused, seeming not only to see his physical form, but straight into his soul beneath. Flamepaw held his gaze for a moment, surprised by his own boldness. Then Nightwatcher raised his eyes to the sky once more.