"Ready, Bluepaw?" asked Cloudstorm. The sleek apprentice nodded, determined to do this right.

The Clan was gathering by Star Rock. Bluepaw and his mentor walked, stride for stride, to join the rest of the Clan.

"Bluepaw," called his father, voice ringing throughout the camp, "join me on Star Rock." The apprentice bounded forward and leapt easily onto the cold stone.

"I, Windystar, leader of PineClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice," Windystar began, muzzle pointed to the cloudy evening sky. "He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn." He shifted his eyes to Bluepaw. "Bluepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Bluepaw met his father's gaze, as serious as he had ever been. "I do."

Windystar's green eyes grew warm. "Then by the powers of DreamClan I give you your warrior name: Bluepaw, from this moment you will be known as Bluestorm. DreamClan honors your bravery and loyalty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of PineClan."

Windystar rested his muzzle on Bluestorm's forehead. "I am so proud of you," he whispered. The new warrior purred as he licked his father's shoulder.

"Bluestorm! Bluestorm! Bluestorm!" chanted the Clan.

"Bluestorm!" a separate voice called. Bluestorm looked down to see Cloudstorm at the base of the rock, meowing at him. "Come on, we have to go."

Bluestorm, with a last glance at his father, slipped down and followed his former mentor through the crowd.

"Congratulations, Bluestorm!" Leafwhisper called as they passed her. Bluestorm nodded awkwardly at her.

The two toms slipped out of camp and slid silently through the shadowy twilight forest.

"We must get there before nightfall," Cloudstorm said. They broke into a run, the cold winter air biting at their fur.

"Here we are," Cloudstorm said as the vigil stump came into view. Bluestorm raced forward and vaulted onto the woody pedestal.

"This is great!" he laughed. "I'm going to be the greatest warrior that PineClan has ever seen!"

Cloudstorm twitched his whiskers. "Okay, Bluestorm, your duty is to guard the territory from this stump. I will be back when the sun rises."

"I understand," Bluestorm said. His mentor melted into the shadows, and Bluestorm surveyed the pines as they swayed in the frigid winter wind. He was the sole protector of PineClan for the whole night!

The sounds of the night flowed around him as the sun set. Bluestorm turned slowly on his sump, raking the snowy trees with his sapphire eyes. Time passed, and he grew bored. The warrior sat on the stump and shivered as the leafbare wind tugged at his pelt. His coat was thicker for the winter, but was still no match for the cold. Bluestorm lay down, resting his head on his paws.

Just as his eyes began to droop, he heard a rustling sound. His head jerked up and he stared in the direction of the noise, ears pricked and claws out, heart pounding. The rustling sounded again, and Bluestorm launched himself off of the stump, growling. He plunged into a thicket of brambles, where he had pinpointed the sound.

A large shrew darted away from him.

Bluestorm turned back to his stump — pulling painful thorns from his pelt — whether disappointed or relieved, he didn't know.

The night crawled by like a sickly tortoise. Bluestorm found himself glancing over his shoulder many times, fur prickling, with the distinct feeling that he was being watched.

About halfway through his watch, Bluestorm heard a twig crack. He turned around so fast that his tail nearly slapped him in the muzzle. A bird flew out of a pine to his left. Just a mousebrained bird, he thought, forcing his fur to lie down. Just as he managed to convince himself that there was nothing there, he whipped around, sure he had seen a pair of eyes watching him from the shadows.

"Who's there?" he called, hoping that his voice wasn't shaking too much, and gripping the stump with his claws.

A screech echoed through the woods as three large cats dropped from the trees ahead of him, claws and teeth glinting.

Bluestorm stood as tall as he could, back arched, fluffing out his fur to look bigger. "This is PineClan territory," he growled as fiercely as he could. "You are not welcome h —"

One of the cats yowled and leapt forward, the other two close behind. The lead cat's paws met Bluestorm's pelt, and the two tumbled over the edge of the stump.

"Oof!" Bluestorm grunted as he hit the ground, although he was slightly cushioned by the blanket of snow. The other cat's long claws dug into his pelt, sending fiery flashes of pain along his body. As the hot breath of his enemy ruffled the fur on his neck, Bluestorm lashed out as his face, growling in grim satisfaction as his claws sliced open skin.

The other cat — one of Doom's rogues, but Bluestorm's guess — pulled back a the pain, and the new warrior managed to throw him off. But the other two are coming, Bluestorm thought, shaking snow from his pelt as he stood up. How can I ever hope to defeat three at once?

Just then, a fearsome caterwaul sounded from somewhere in the pines. Bluestorm's thoughts raced. More rogues?

But the other three cats were looking a bit panicky as well.

"Bluestorm!"

The warrior pivoted, his eyes widening in happiness as Cloudstorm and Whitespot raced toward him.

"Watch out!" Cloudstorm cried. Bluestorm felt claws at his back as a rogue pounced. He let himself fall, careful to keep his paws under him. As the rogue hissed in triumph, leaning forward to sink his teeth in, Bluestorm pushed upward with all his might, flinging the cat off of his back. While he was down, the warrior sprang. He pinned the other cat down on his side and began to shred the rogue's pelt with his claws. Only when he began to scream in agony did Bluestorm let go and drive the other into the woods.

"Bluestorm!" Whitespot called. He was backed against a vast tree trunk by a huge rogue, who was delivering a nasty blow to the warrior's ear.

The rogue was balancing mainly on his two hind legs as he clawed at Whitespot with both forepaws. Bluestorm hooked his paws over the larger cat's shoulders and used his whole weight to drag him down onto his back, jumping out of the way in time to avoid being squashed flat. Bluestorm bit deep and hard at the cat's shoulder while Whitespot tore at his tender stomach.

The rogue twisted and fought until he was free. Then he hightailed it into the woods like a young kit running to her mother when her siblings have been playing too roughly.

The last rogue was putting up a good fight, but when she saw that her comrades were gone, she decided to head out. But Cloudstorm had different ideas. With a yowl, the gray and white tom launched himself at the rogue and pinned her down.

"Whitespot! Bluestorm!" he called. "Come over here! We're taking this one prisoner."

The other two warriors raced toward their companion, their paws sending bits of snow flying through the air behind them. The rogue was struggling under Cloudstorm's grip. Her fur was a dusty gray, and she had four white paws. Bluestorm's former mentor began to let her up once Whitespot and Bluestorm were in position to intercept her should she try to escape. With a hiss, the rogue she-cat pushed Cloudstorm off of her the rest of the way and got to her paws, eying them warily.

"We won't hurt you if you cooperate," Whitespot promised.

"Come," Cloudstorm said. "We'll take her back to camp."

The gray-and-white warrior lead the way. Whitespot and Bluestorm flanked the rogue, carefully watching her every move.

As they progressed through the forest, Bluestorm caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Without a second thought, he launched himself after the mouse that had broken cover and was now racing across the snow.

"Bluestorm! Get back here!" Cloudstorm cried. The youngest warrior turned back in time to see their hostage try to run for it. Whitespot, with the reflexes born of a lifetime of training, twisted on the spot and managed to catch her before she got too far.

"What do you think you're doing?" Whitespot demanded as Bluestorm rejoined the group.

"I was trying to catch the mouse," he replied.

"Don't bother lecturing him, Whitespot," Cloudstorm sighed. "He never listens."

The anger faded from the eldest tom's eyes. "And I thought that Leafwhisper was bad. DreamClan, if the two of you ever had kits, I think the whole Clan would be destroyed!"

Bluestorm felt hot under his fur. "Can we get going?"

The other two warriors exchanged infuriatingly knowing glances, their whiskers twitching.

They soon reached the PineClan camp, cold, tired, and sore. Hazeltail, who was on guard duty at the entrance, stood up as they approached.

"What happened?" she asked. "Who is this?" The she-cat's usually friendly green eyes narrowed as she studied the newcomer. The rogue glared back defiantly, lip curling with a growl.

"Get Windystar," Cloudstorm ordered, ignoring her questions. Hazeltail obediently trotted away.

Windystar soon appeared, his fur appearing almost white in the moonlight.

"What happened?" he demanded. "Is every cat all right?" From the dark, harried look in his dark green eyes, Bluestorm could tell that he hadn't slept at all that night.

"We're fine, save for a few bites and scratches," Whitespot reported. "Nothing that Forestpelt can't fix up."

Windystar visibly relaxed. "Since it is not yet dawn, and you have an extra cat with you, I will assume that the vigil was interrupted."

"That's right," Cloudstorm said. "We were ambushed."

"Doom again?"

"He wasn't there himself," Whitespot said, "but I would assume that the rogues were part of his lot."

"Maybe she can give us some answers," Windystar mused, his eyes turned to the rogue. "What is your name, stranger?"

"Alley," she replied. "What's it to you?" Bluestorm thought that she seemed uneasy, but was trying to act tough.

"I am Windystar, leader of PineClan," said the tabby. "These are some of my warriors, Whitespot, Cloudstorm, and Bluestorm." Each cat nodded in turn as he said their names.

Alley said nothing, but fixed Windystar with a reproachful stare.

Cloudstorm turned to his former apprentice. "I suppose that you will have to finish your vigil in camp."

"I suppose so," Bluestorm agreed.

"Remember, it is called a silent vigil for a reason," Cloudstorm said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "You can go by the nursery. The queens have a spot cleared of snow where they like to sit on sunny days."

Bluestorm opened his mouth to reply, but Cloudstorm shot him a look that reminded him of the 'no talking' rule. He nodded instead and padded across the thin layer of snow to the nursery.

Dawn approached very slowly. The sound of the snoring queens and kits inside of their cozy nests made Bluestorm's eyelids droop. He could hear the sound of Windystar and Whitespot interrogating Alley, but they were too far away for him to make out what they were saying. From Whitespot's frustrated growls, he could tell that they weren't getting much information out of her.

As the sun finally peeked up over the horizon, Windystar approached, his light gray fur shining in the early sunlight.

"Your vigil is over," he said, sitting beside Bluestorm.

"Good," Bluestorm said, with a teasing glance at his father. He stretched and yawned. "That was the longest night of my life."

"I'm glad that you weren't hurt," Windystar said quietly.

"Same here," he replied jokingly, although he was touched by the tabby's concern. "But I was wondering, how did Cloudstorm and Whitespot get there so quickly to help?"

"They were there the whole time," Windystar explained. "Cloudstorm probably told you that you would be on your own for the whole night, but really he was never far away, always keeping watch over you. That is the real tradition: the mentor keeping watch over his former apprentice."

"But why was Whitespot there too?"

"These are dangerous times," Windystar sighed. "I was afraid that Doom would attack, and it seems that my caution was not unfounded. I wanted an extra warrior around in case of trouble."

"I'm glad you did," Bluestorm said. "I would never have won that battle by myself, and I doubt that Cloudstorm and I alone could have beat them."

With a squeal of excitement, Frostkit, Skykit, and Heatherkit came running out of the nursery, followed closely by their yawning mother. Skykit pounced on Heatherkit and bowled her over, and Frostkit eagerly joined the fray. Windystar purred as he watched their antics.

"Careful!" called Whitefeather as Skykit pinned her brother down. Frostkit lashed out at the gray-and-white kit with his hind paws, launching her through the air. Bluestorm yowled in surprise when she crashed into his flank.

Skykit rolled and got to her paws, shaking the snow from her pelt. "Sorry, Bluestorm!" she squeaked, looking embarrassed.

"Run along, now," Bluestorm said, flicking the kit with his tail. As Skykit scampered back to her siblings, Windystar turned to his son.

"I can't help but think of your days in the nursery," he said. "You were quite a pawful for poor Ferntail."

Bluestorm decided to change the subject. "Did you get much information out of Alley?"

"No," Windystar sighed. "She's quite a stubborn she-cat. It's too bad that you couldn't capture a more talkative rogue."

Bluestorm nodded, and then yawned. He was exhausted from a long, hard night.

"You had better get to the warriors den and rest," Windystar said. "I think Leafwhisper said that she would build a nest for you." Bluestorm thought that this sounded like a good idea, so he stood and headed toward his new den.