"...TreeClan honors your bravery and devotion. Without it, Spiderpaw may not have been able to join us today. Take this to heart; your name is not a burden, but a praise- an honor. The Clan honors you, Skyburn. Welcome to TreeClan as a full warrior."

"Tch," the disbelieving scoff cut through the forced silence as well as the memory, breaking the aforementioned rules of vigil and speaking freely. The warrior's curses went unheard by anyone sans himself, the words of anguish aimed in the direction of the events hours prior. The lies chanted their mantra repeatedly in his cloudy mind. An honor? Yeah right. Blunt claws scraped the dirt, telltale signs of the fire still embedded in the scorched earth. Smoke fumes lingered in the flat air, still recognized despite their appearance had been made a quarter-moon ago. Ever since that devastating evening, the warrior was still an apprentice, permanent wounds confining him to the infirmary for that length of time.

So, as the sky turned pitch, the stars twinkling suggestions of tranquility, the newly named feline took his stand outside the main hollow, tucked in a set of low hanging intertwining branches. The light of the moon sliver illuminated his foggy gray coat- once bespeckled with white, now permanently marred with the marks of his head-on encounter with the flames. His silken pelt, burnt away at his left flank leaving the inflammation scars as a dark reminder. His tail, previously long and plumed morphed into a patchwork disaster. His face, full and handsome, suddenly became the epitome of horror with the left side scorched, ear floppy and eye closed.

Skyburn.

What a disgusting name.

Heroics and bravery be damned; nothing redeemable remained. Why had be bothered to save the brat anyway? The kit was nothing but a nuisance, constantly badgering the other warriors with his sea of endless questions. Barely out of the nursery and already consumed by curiosity. Ask his mother, for StarClan's sake! Don't keep the apprentice den alive in the dark of night with pheasant-brained questions. It would have been easy to leave him simpering under the torched log, pitifully wailing until the red-orange wisps devoured the wood's stability. He wouldn't have batted an eye. In fact, he would have been grateful to never hear those ear grating sentences again. All the whines, the cries, the complains. The poor kitten took nothing seriously, and for that, his savior shouldn't have rescued him.

But he did.

The question was why?

"You shouldn't speak such vulgar phrases," came the hushed comment to the tomcat's left. Nestled in a similar position in the mentioned direction, a thin framed tawny she-cat lay. Her lighter spots glowed in the ethereal moonlight, posture supported accordingly with a regal stature. Her pair of pine eyes swiveled to his single amber. "As warriors it is our duty to watch over our Clan in a night of silence. Surely you can abide by one rule."

Ah yes, a reminder that he wasn't the only warrior on guard this eve. The femme fatale of the apprentices' den had joined the ranks of the warriors alongside the horribly scarred. Her slim figure and spotted coat vouched her as a favorite to many a TreeClan cat.

She too, had played a role in the evacuation concerning the fiery attack on TreeClan's former camp. By other spectators, she was rumored to be sprinting around the splintering trees, herding the queens and assisting by carrying a portion of their litters without so much as a hair touched by the wildfire.

It hardly seemed fair.

"Aren't you breaking your own rules?" the disfigured retched, throat dry and rough from previous smoke inhalation. "Honeyspot."

"Perhaps, but I'm merely reminding some uneducated scoundrel of the rules before he blindly tarnishes them." Her retort flowed as smooth as a trickle of water from a stream, her voice as rich as the sweet treat itself. "I have good reason to shatter the silence- can you say the same for yourself?"

When silence answered her prompted question, she let the noiseless night continue, determined to finish the rest of the vigil without any further incidents.

"This isn't fair! I can't do it!"

"Fine then! If you can't do it, I won't waste my time trying to teach you. Fetch me when you're ready to try again."

One eye constantly open to catch the gossip worthy events outside the camp's boundaries, Skyburn discovered himself stalking a certain apprentice's training patterns over the past moon since the fire. He observed in silence as the fuming snow white she-cat stormed off in the direction of TreeClan's central grounds, leaving behind her angrily pacing pupil whose eyes welled with frustrated tears.

"I just can't do it," he was hissing aloud, though speaking to himself.

"You're putting too much thought into it," Skyburn voiced his opinion, his mangled body hiding in refuge under a copse of oak leaves.

"How so?" the black tom spat without hesitation, uncaring of whom he had entered conversation with.

"First of all, Spiderpaw, lose the attitude," the warrior in the trees advised. "You can't do anything profitable with clouded judgement. Take deep breaths and calm down." With cautious steps, the young warrior shifted his position from the safety of his branch as he moved to a lower perch, keeping an eye on the very apprentice he saved barely a moon cycle ago. A sliver of accomplishment fluttered in his damaged heart, pleased to hear the 'paw complying with instructions as slow, loud inhales and exhales of air became audible.

"Second," Skyburn began in his usual rough timbre, once Spiderpaw was deemed tranquil enough to continue. "Don't think too much about where an enemy will move. The point of this attack is not over analysis. You have to trust yourself that you will strike the target. If you hold back or hesitate, the impact will fail and you'll either be intercepted or dodged altogether."

A hopeful look shimmered in the apprentice's emeralds. "Can you show me?"

Skyburn bit his tongue. Even if the entire Clan had seen him in this hazard state, it wasn't on his list to let them see him suffer or attempt to show falsified pity. However, Spiderpaw had a higher honor in this sense as he was the one whom the injured chose to save without thought to his own safety.

He owed him at least an appearance.

Slinking from the fronds, the warrior couldn't help but hate the heat of the sunlight as it bathed his remaining gray pelt. It reminded him too much of the blaze licking his skin, reawakening the wounded tissue. His steps were slow and calculated, almost hesitant if one were to analyze the flickering in his squinting amber orb. With gritted teeth, he awaited a gasp of disgust, expecting an exclamation regarding his horrible looks.

To his surprise, nothing answered his expectations. Spiderpaw simply glanced his way with a beaming smile, stance prepped with a crouch to begin their spar.

Confused was an understatement, but regardless of his own initial ideas, Skyburn lowered his belly to the ground, muscles tense and ready to spring. Spiderpaw was given the honor of leaping first, forepaw raised early on. With a disappointed sigh, the warrior easily swatted him aside. Even as they stood nearly the same height, Spiderpaw's attack was too easy to see through and easy to deflect given the appropriate amount of time to retaliate.

"You attack too early," Skyburn scolded, swiping early to prove his point which gave the nimble student plenty of time to avoid.

"Your stance is wobbly," was another comment when the 'paw's legs buckled under the pressure of a tackle.

"No wild steps. Keep everything controlled and precise."

"Don't hesitate. I can see it in your eyes. Your enemy can use that to their advantage."

"You jumped too late."

However, the young warrior's advice began to display improvement upon his unofficial apprentice. With his body under more control, Spiderpaw proved to show an increase in landed strikes, precision in movements, and managed to keep a straight facade throughout their sparring.

"Every step controlled. Good."

"Clean cut pounces."

"Fluid just like a bird!"

"Ha ha! Wonderful!"

The heat of the day dwindled, shadows fanning the forest in wild twists and knots. The coloration of the blue sky altered into a pallet of orange, pink, red, as well as fainter shades of purple. Tranquility of the evening was returning to the woods, leaving behind, in its wake, a pair of exhausted felines sprawled lazily across the mossy ground. Practically side by side, young warrior and elder apprentice felt the strain on their bodies from their intense afternoon training.

"Can I touch them?"

Skyburn's eye quickly shot open at the comment, staring an enamored Spiderpaw down with a guarded expression. "Touch what?" his voice was on the edge of a growl, knowing what the green-eyed wanted but felt it necessary to ask regardless.

"The burns," Spiderpaw whispered, his own vocals dropping in decibel due to the scratchiness of the former's. It wasn't the same energetic roughness as it was during training, it was now bitter and raw with bubbling petulance. "I'd like to feel them."

The warrior swallowed down a growl, a possessive wave washing over his wounded body. No one had asked to feel them- And, Skyburn decided, if they wanted to, I wouldn't let them. They're probably just seeking a way to ridicule me. I won't let them.

Be that as it may, there was no malice in the black tom's words. His heart beat with the truth. His eyes were only seeking knowledge, genuinely concerned and eager to confide.

After all, Spiderpaw was the reason he was suffering.

Might as well let him discover the pain and strife he caused.

"Alright." The quiet, compliant drawl.

There was a definite flinch when the cold nose brushed his flank. His skin rippled, tense and stressful. The cold intruder retreated, offering a soft "sorry" as apology. Skyburn nodded him ahead, reassuring a continuation when the sensation had yet to revisit. This time, the wetness enveloped his cheek, just off to the side from his closed up eye. Rather than unnatural and foreign, Skyburn welcomed the contact which unknowingly felt warm and familiar. If he had to compare it, it would be the gentle nuzzle his mother use to give him back when she still lived while he made home in the nursery.

"Alluring," Spiderpaw's voice was breathy and low, moving from contact with his berry nose to the little white blaze on his forehead.

"Comforting," he added, definitely a smile in his words.

The warrior melted under the praiseworthy comments, sighing with contentedness as his cranium started to loll under the warm pressure. His single eye slithered shut, relaxing under the furry touch to his defaced skin.

I don't deserve these words of kindness. I'm a horrible infection on society.

"Unique."

But perhaps, I can accept these words without remorse. For once I can feel loved.

"Beautiful."

Back on the inspiration train, I've found myself interested in challenges once again. This one, like many, is for CloudClan, titled I love you, scars and all. And unless I come up with a clever title, that's what the name of this chapter will be. XD

Fun fact: Had he not been injured, Skyburn's warrior name would have been Skysoar. Sky- having to do with his pale gray sky pelt coloration, and -soar implying his ability (note: unseen in the challenge) to 'soar' when leaping through the trees.

- Snarky

~ Ravendusk