Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Note: Meet Graypaw, Bumbling Idiot above all Bumbling Idiots. xD

Âme Empoisonnée

The camp was dead silent when the Gathering-goers entered it. Graypaw couldn't see Bluestar's expression, as she was at the front of the patrol and he was at the back with his mentor, but he could her a worried tone in her voice as she called out, "Tigerclaw? Darkstripe? Hello? Are the patrols back yet?"

"Bluestar!" Frostfur came running from the nursery, her white fur sticking up with fear. "Willowpelt came back to camp and got Tigerclaw and Darkstripe! She ran into Brokenstar and Clawface by the Thunderpath!"

"Brokenstar?" Bluestar snarled. "Blackfoot said he was sick! We must go and help them eradicate that weasel of a leader. Redtail, Dustpaw, Lionheart, Mousefur! You four come with me. Everyone else, stay here. Do not hunt. Do not try to follow us. Just stay here and everything will go smoothly."

"Um, Bluestar?" Frostfur's blue eyes had a tentative glint in them. "It's only two cats. I think they're fine without any help."

"I do not abandon my warriors!" Bluestar snapped. "But if you think my time is being wasted, then I will stay here. But Redtail and the rest shall go!"

Graypaw, meanwhile, was staring at his leader, anger burning in his big yellow eyes. I have to stay here? My first battle and I can't even fight in it? Lionheart must've seen the expression on his face, because he rested his thick-furred golden tail-tip on the apprentice's shoulder.

"You don't know how to fight, Graypaw," Lionheart reminded him gently. "You were made an apprentice only two days ago." He withdrew his tail and bounded toward Redtail, Dustpaw, and Mousefur, who had grouped together by the entrance to the tunnel.

"Good luck," Speckletail called. "We'll be waiting!"

"Waiting for who?" asked a familiar voice, with more curiosity than correct grammar (though, being a cat, the voice's owner didn't care about correct grammar anyway). Many cats whipped around to stare at the rustling undergrowth. Many cats jumped. Many cats looked very relieved because they recognized the voice.

A large brown-striped head poked out through the plants. "Waiting for who?" the head asked again, pulling its whole body out into the open.

"Waiting for the patrol we were going to send to help you," Bluestar replied. "Did you drive Brokenstar off, Tigerclaw?"

Graypaw's eyes narrowed. Let's hope Tigerclaw killed him. We don't need thugs like him roaming the forest. Especially not our forest.

"Yes." Tigerclaw flicked his tail, as if to beckon some cats behind him. Willowpelt, Darkstripe, Runningwind, Whitestorm, Longtail, Ravenpaw, and Sandpaw emerged from the undergrowth. "And we took three of his lives." Graypaw's large eyes shone delightedly. Wow! Three?

"Three?" Bluestar looked half-impressed and half-worried. "Don't you think that's going a bit too far, Tigerclaw? I don't like Brokenstar any more than you do, but killing him three times might make him hate us even more."

Runningwind stepped forward to support Tigerclaw. "Don't blame him, Bluestar. He only killed Brokenstar once, and it was to save Ravenpaw." Graypaw noticed a sheepish expression on Ravenpaw's face. "I killed him the other two times. I guess my anger blinded me."

Tigerclaw's face became slightly distorted, and Graypaw wondered if he were feeling envious of Runningwind's accomplishment, but the great warrior's expression soon changed to one of relief that he wouldn't have to face Bluestar.

"Very well." Bluestar dipped her head to the two warriors in recognition of their deeds and apologies. "But from now on, remember our chief principle. I should hope you can all recall it from your various apprenticeships?"

Redtail shouted out the principle—"We enter battle to win, but not to kill!"—and soon the rest of the Clan joined in, Graypaw included. Lionheart had taught him this yesterday when they had gone on a tour of the territory. Graypaw liked the principle, and he hoped the other Clans followed it (or at least RiverClan and WindClan); he couldn't stand the thought of being killed.

The grey-blue leader nodded approvingly. "Good. My senior warriors, please see my in my den. We have matters to discuss." Redtail, Tigerclaw, and Whitestorm followed her into her den; Graypaw watched the ginger tip of the ThunderClan deputy's tail disappear, wistfully thinking about what it would be like to be a senior warrior.

"Tomorrow at sun-high," Lionheart whispered to Graypaw as he hurried to join the other senior warriors. "Hunting practice with Redtail and Dustpaw." Dustpaw?! Dustpaw was one of the rudest cats in the Clan; Graypaw was sure that Darkstripe or Longtail had taught him his manners. After all, the tabby apprentice did hang around with them a lot.

"Darkstripe!" called a sudden voice, jerking Graypaw out of his resentful thoughts about Dustpaw. He looked up to see Spottedleaf hurrying toward the grey tabby. Graypaw hadn't seen her leave the Gathering patrol, but she was coming from the medicine den, so apparently she had sneaked away at some point.

"I thought I told you not to leave camp with that scratch of yours!" the dappled medicine cat went on. Darkstripe had a nasty scratch on one of his legs from a recent battle with RiverClan over Sunningrocks. Graypaw thought he deserved it, and that Spottedleaf shouldn't fuss over it, but he supposed that nice medicine cats would be nice medicine cats.

Darkstripe looked doubtfully at the nice medicine cat in question. "It's fine," he said. "It didn't hurt at all out there. Can't I go back to warrior duties now?" Graypaw let out a soft mrrow of laughter at the pleading tone in the warrior's voice. Darkstripe, one of the toughest cats in the Clan, practically begging permission from one of the most soft-hearted cats in the Clan.

"Instead of sitting around like that," meowed someone behind him, interrupting his thoughts, "you could try being useful."

Graypaw whirled around, irritated at what he saw. There, his dark tabby tail curled over his paws, sat Dustpaw, looking as lofty and cold-hearted as ever. "You!" the gray tom hissed. "Why can't you just leave me alone? Anyway, what could I do? I don't know how to hunt, and no one will want me for a patrol while Lionheart's talking to Bluestar."

Dustpaw flashed him an arrogant smirk. Graypaw resisted the urge to wipe it right off his face with a swipe of his heavily-furred paw paw.

"Smallear and the lot want new bedding," the older apprentice told him. "But Ravenpaw's taking the dawn patrol, with Runningwind and Longtail, so they need to go to sleep early. And Willowpelt's taking me and Sandpaw hunting in a few minutes, so we can't do it, either. You're our last hope."

Graypaw groaned inwardly. Cleaning out the elders' bedding! If he'd known he had to do this, he wouldn't have been so excited to be made an apprentice. He hadn't done it yet, but he knew it wasn't fun, from the other apprentices' constant ranting and raving.

Dustpaw's smirk grew more mischievous. "Ah, lighten up, you blundering mouse-brain. The elders usually have a story to spare. If you do a good job and bring them some extra prey." He gave Graypaw a mock-friendly shove. "Now get going, and maybe Smallear won't snap at you for being late!" A cruel tone entered his voice on the last few words.

Grumbling to himself, Graypaw headed to the elders' den. I'd better just get this over with.