"Watch your step, Brownkit."

The soft chastise echoed off from the right, resonating clearly in the kit's large and inquisitive ears.

"The ice is slick."

The bigger tomcat, a pale brown in comparison to the smaller's ruddy hue, kept his gaze amused upon watching his younger brother experience RiverClan's leaf-bare for the first time.

Tiny flurries fell from the sky, drifting languidly in the frosty air. All around, their stark whiteness dappled the pelts of the felines still outside in the cold weather. Some of the younger 'paws had taken a liking to catching the particles on their pink tongues, making it a game for their own amusement. Some of the warriors grumbled, ill-tempered about the change in lifestyle. From across the clearing, their medicine cat was fretting, mumbling hurriedly about her stocks and lack of herbs. Her apprentice wasn't wavered in the change, parading around with the other youngsters in their activity.

"I know, Nutpaw!" the younger kit huffed in defiance, determined to approach the situation without outside assistance. Many puddles had littered the earth, all frozen over as a result of the seasonal shift.

Nutpaw chuckled in kind, the warmth in his chest rivaling the chill of the outside aura.

"Snow's pretty," the little kit squeaked out, marveling at the falling particles.

"Isn't it?" his older brother agreed, blinking up at the sky in sibling contentment.

"Oomph!"

Nutpaw suddenly jerked his gaze back out of the clouds and into the present where he observed tiny Brownkit flat on his belly as a result from slipping on the ice puddles.

Despite himself, the pale 'paw giggled.

"Watch your step, Brownkit."

"Don't wriggle away, come back here and sit still!"

"Nutpaw, you're messing up my pelt!"

Nutpaw leaned forward again, resuming his task of running his tongue over Brownkit's fluffy face. "Only because you've got a tufted mop on the top of your head that refuses to be tamed."

"Let it be wild and free!" Brownkit argued, pulling back sharply and thrashing his head around, letting his curl of fur flash in the breeze.

Nutpaw scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Just know that Mom would've wanted you to look nice for your ceremony."

At the mention of their deceased mother, Brownkit settled down into a quiet haze. A ripple ran through his fuzzy coat, the chill of memories seeping under his skin. He lowered his head in submission. "Make her happy," he said simply, allowing Nutpaw to play the role of mother and smooth out the kitten's fur.

"Brownpaw, watch out!"

The pale tom threw himself in front of his brother, a frenzy of claws and teeth as he chased away a much bigger black-and-white ThunderClan warrior.

Newleaf in RiverClan meant hunting rights to the stream once again. The river, however, was controversial to both parties on either side. ThunderClan had made their use of it during leaf-bare, as per compromise made by Pikestar. Now with the turning of the season, it was thrown back into RiverClan's favor where they thrived in their much needed water source.

But not all compromises ended in full agreements.

Brownpaw cowered behind his brother, already looking miserable for his first battle. In front of him, Nutpaw was slashing away at a ginger she-cat who decided to get too close. The RiverClan tom had sliced her nose cleanly, howling with triumph as she waddled away into the mob.

"You alright?" he turned around, frantically searching for possible wounds.

"I'm fine," the darker brown 'paw answered hastily. "Just a little shaken up."

Nutpaw fluffed out his pelt, taking a wide stance beside his sibling. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

Brownpaw smiled.

"Guess you'll be leaving me alone in the den again, eh Nutfur?"

The newly named pale warrior cast his green eyes upon Brownpaw currently meandering over toward him after the ceremony started to die off.

"You'll be okay. You've still got Tansypaw and Reedpaw," Nutfur leaned over, bumping noses playfully. "Besides, you're nearly a warrior."

"Nearly can't come sooner," Brownpaw sighed dramatically as he slid onto his back. Grinning, Nutfur thrust his muzzle forward and nipped at Brownpaw's exposed underbelly.

"No fair!" the younger cat squealed, his weakness showing as tears sprang in his hazel eyes.

Nutfur stilled his actions for a moment's passing. "All's fair in love and war." And he resumed his kit-like antics.

"But seriously though," Nutfur stared the apprentice down, playfulness leaving his expression, marred with sincerity instead. "I'll come and check on you if you want. Also, don't hesitate to wake me up if you have a nightmare again. I'll take full responsibility for any warriors you distress in the process."

"Thank you, Nutfur."

"See? Told ya you wouldn't be a 'paw for long," Nutfur purred in amusement, whiskers twitching as Brownpelt sauntered closer with a prideful hop in his step. "Now I can protect you in the den easier."

"Nutfur, I'm a warrior now," Brownpelt argued, still smiling.

"So?" Nutfur snorted, guiding both toms over toward the mound of freshly caught prey. They each snatched a relatively small fish from the pile, leaving the bigger catches for the queens and elders out of politeness.

Munching on his fish, Brownpelt added, "I don't need you to watch over me. Now that I'm a warrior, I can take care of myself."

Nutfur blinked, almost hurt. "What about sharing a nest like we promised?"

Brownpelt scored a few claw marks into the soil, hesitation bristling through his shaggier coat. "Well," he began, voice quavering with shyness. "That was when we were both apprentices. No one really cared. Now that we're both warriors, it'd seem odd if we kept sharing a nest."

The tip of Nutfur's tail twitched. His green eyes dimmed, no longer that bright hue that they once were. "We're still siblings," the pale warrior frowned, fighting away the aching starting to blossom in his chest. "What about the nightmares?"

Brownpelt shrugged, taking another gulp from his meal and licking his chops. "I don't have them anymore," came his indifferent reply. "So I don't need to be comforted all the time." He shook out his thick pelt and rose to his paws, glancing around for the fellow bridging warriors who, mere minutes ago, were apprentices just like he was. "There's Tansyspot. I'm going to go say hi."

But Nutfur didn't seem to care about the second part. He looked up at his younger brother, faith fading from his optics. "So...you don't want me to protect you anymore?"

Brownpelt flicked an ear. "Just don't be so overprotective. I'm a warrior," he announced for at least the third time since becoming one. "I don't need a constant shadow. Let me do things on my own." Without anymore words, the new warrior pranced off to speak with the calico she-cat still wrapping up with her friends and congratulations from said friends.

Nutfur pushed his fish away, suddenly not hungry.

"Come on, fish-brain! Open those eyes - don't you dare close them!"

There's something to be said about your first battle. And yet, there's something to be said about your last battle.

As the war raged on around them, two bodies had emotionally and physically distanced themselves from the chaos. Laying crippled on his side was Brownpelt, flanks heaving with panic rushing through his veins. His pelt was littered with harmless scratches, his ear nicked from a nimble ThunderClan apprentice who decided to gang up from behind, but the most fatal was a heavy gash along his throat, relentlessly bleeding crimson into the tousled sand. His glassy hazel eyes were fluttering closed, much to the frightened dismay of his elder brother currently perching at his side, gingerly pawing the face of the injured as a way to keep him awake.

"Enngh," Brownpelt murmured, voice incredibly hoarse. "It hurts so much..."

"Just keep breathing," Nutfur's voice dropped, loud enough to be heard but no longer a full blown scream. "It's going to be alright. Focus on me - your big brother Nutfur. And you're my pain in the tail little brother. It's okay, it's okay. Hey, hey, keep those eyes open. Fight it, it's going to be okay. Shh, shh, shhh."

Brownpelt was whimpering, vocals cracking with every noise he tried to make. "Pl-ease. Yo-u got... you've got to... let me go..."

"Don't say that stuff, bud. We'll make it through this. The two of us, just like always. Nutfur and Brownpelt, together to the end. I can't have you dropping off before it's your time, eh?" Nutfur forced himself to chuckle, internally screaming with the thoughts of inevitable heartbreak.

The gash kept bleeding, a river of ruby flowing into a deep puddle around the victim. Brownpelt's voice had quit, eyes rolling into the back of his skull with a defeated whine as his lids shut for the last time. His flanks stopped heaving so quickly, stilled in their motions for good. There was a final second where the last exhale of air broke past the damaged throat, never achieving another inhale.

"Brownpelt!"

A moon had passed and Tansyspot had given birth to Brownpelt's kits.

The calico had asked Nutfur to help raise them.

He declined.

He didn't want to relive the agony. Especially when Tansyspot named her final born Brownkit out of respect to the father.

Nothing would be the same. Not even when the pale warrior slumped by the stream at the battlegrounds of his brother's final words. Not even when he looked up at the starry sky and whispered;

"Please StarClan, give him back. It wasn't his time. I never even said goodbye."

Challenge for TorrentClan

- Thornkit