Claws and fangs may leave lasting scars,
Love and lust may leave non-beating hearts
Blood and sickness may leave unseen bruises,
Play it safe and no one loses
—RoseClan "Nursery Rhyme"

~.~

Duskpaw sprang from the nest in surprise. Where am I? The overwhelming odor hit his scent glances and he realized: ThistleClan. His last memories were blurred from drowsiness. He vaguely recalled Tawnyleaf whispering something of goodbye. He took in his surroundings, trying to find out why he was alone. The den was small, like that of a medicine cat's but it gave no hint of herbs. Light seeped through a tiny opening. He padded to it, disturbing fallen dust as he whisked his tail behind him. He gave the hole a curious sniff, realizing he could almost fit through the gap.

"You've awakened."

The sandy-gray tom's fur rose on his spine as he whipped around. Standing in a broader opening of the den, there was another cat. The tom was small, with light brown fur. "Who are you?" Duskpaw growled. "Where are Tawnyleaf and Briarpaw?"

Anger flashed in the warrior's eyes as he padded toward him. "Your mother and sister can no longer be with you," he muttered. "You are a ThistleClan apprentice now. I am Littlefeather: your father."

Duskpaw let out a hiss. "Mother said that Briarpaw would say good-bye to me when I had to go! And she didn't!" He lashed his tail, cursing under his breath. Of course there were no goodbyes! I was asleep when he stole me!

Littlefeather sighed. "One day, Duskpaw, you will thank me. But while you could spend your time moping about your sister and mother, it would be more productive if you chose otherwise. There's someone you should meet."

A sandy-gray tom that looked much like Duskpaw loomed in the den's opening. He was very large in physique, contrasting to the smallness of Duskpaw's father. The tom was very well composed, his fur sleek and pelt clean. He had amber eyes that held an unspoken challenge in them, almost as if they were daring him to try and mope. Duskpaw straightened, suddenly fearing the thought of this cat thinking him weak. Duskpaw would not mope.

"My brother, Hawkstalker, has been taken to the task of being your mentor," Littlefeather meowed, sounding pleased. "He will train you to be a fine ThistleClan warrior. You should be proud to know that he is the deputy."

Duskpaw recoiled at this fact, knowing that was all the harder things were going to be for him to adjust. When Hawkstalker saw him take a step back, his fierce amber gaze burned harder at him. He obviously was offended by Duskpaw's resentment.

"I'll have you know I trained two strong apprentices before you," Hawkstalker announced, his light tone not matching the dark look he was casting. "They are each equal in fearlessness. It would be dishonorable if you would not turn out the same."

Anyone could feel the challenge behind his uncle's words.

In that tense moment, a black tom pushed past Hawkstalker into the den. He had a wiry figure. His muzzle was tipped with the silver of old age and his yellow eyes heavy with sleep. His scent was that of herbs, so he was assumed to be the medicine cat.

"That's Crowshade," Littlefeather whispered. "Our healer."

As Crowshade approached him, Duskpaw thought about the fact that this cat would be the one to heal his wounds from now on. Not Frostleaf. He couldn't decide if that was good or not.

"Have the RoseClan cats been treating you good?" Crowshade asked spitefully. "StarClan knows what torture you might've been through."

Duskpaw considered. "They have. Why wouldn't they?"

"RoseClan have been known to beat up young apprentices when they send them over to us. It's our job to teach them a lesson afterwards." Crowshade looked him over for wounds, letting out a hiss when he found one. "You have a recent tear in your ear, young one." After a moment he added, "She-cats!" he said the word with pure hatred.

"Excuse his manners, Duskpaw," Littlefeather muttered. "He has never been one to appreciate what RoseClan does for us." He turned, speaking to Crowshade. "You've never even met them. All because you were a rogue when you joined, that doesn't mean you should be any less grateful for the strong toms they send us."

Crowshade twitched his whiskers. "Strong toms, that's just what they send us. Yet those weaklings can't even bring the kits to us themselves!"

Littlefeather flicked his tail-tip, annoyed.

Crowshade didn't seem to notice his Clanmate's frustration, only padded over toward where Hawkstalker still loomed. He peered out of the den, suddenly yowling for someone else. "Nightstalker! I need cobweb and marigold!" Crowshade turned and moved back over by Duskpaw, the impatience he was feeling written on his face.

It was then when Duskpaw saw Nightstalker for the first time. A very small dark gray tom ran into the den with cobwebs and marigold, depositing them next to Crowshade. "Anything else you want?"

Crowshade let out a haughty breath. "Of course not. Duskpaw was one of the softies that got well cared for." He paused. "At least, so he says."

Nightstalker nodded, turning on tail out of the den.

As Crowshade applied the marigold to his ear, Duskpaw thought about what he had said. He remembered that Frostleaf always glared at him and gave him a scowl when he needed treating. Roseshade bared her teeth at him if he got too close. Tawnyleaf, Brightsong, and Blossomstar and a few others had treated him well. But Briarpaw always got the adoring crowd. Everyone in RoseClan had treated her like Clan leader when she was born along with him. Duskpaw on the other hand got all the glares. He shivered and turned his attention back to the old medicine cat.

"Be careful!" Duskpaw warned. His ear stung where the medicine cat had applied the marigold.

"Hold still!" Crowshade snapped. "I warned you it may sting! You don't want infection, do you?"

Duskpaw shook his head.

"I said 'hold still'!" Crowshade growled, dabbing cobweb on his ear. When he finished, the stinging was still there and Crowshade still wasn't pleased.

There was yet another tom entering the den, leading to the point where Duskpaw considered it crowded. The tom was a sleek black figure with deep-set yellow eyes. He was slim, but muscled like Hawkstalker. An unfriendly snarl was on his face hinted to Duskpaw the startling fact that this was one of his Clanmates now.

"There is no room for RoseClan softies here!" the tom purred, his mock kindness as cold as ice. "I don't see why Thornstar doesn't make his own Clan."

Littlefeather curled his lip. "That would involve getting rogues to join our Clan."

Crowshade and the black tom cast him an evil look.

"There is nothing wrong with my family!" the tom hissed. "I am a good as warrior as you. Even the softie over here could see that."

Duskpaw could see that. The tom must've been a rogue, but that didn't explain much about Crowshade unless . . .

"Are you brothers?" he asked.

Crowshade cast Duskpaw the coldest of glares, assuring him that he'd hit a nerve.

"Get away, Shadowfoot!" Hawkstalker took a step closer to the black tom. "You have no business here!"

"I have plenty of business here!" Shadowfoot purred, his voice full of spite. "Someone has to teach the softie to be a true ThistleClan warrior!"

There was a pure moment of silence as the tensions rose higher, so tight they were about to snap.

A new scent drifted to Duskpaw's nose. She-cat. When she spoke, her young voice reminded him of Briarpaw. "Leave them alone," she mewed simply. As the she-cat emerged into view, Duskpaw saw that she wasn't much younger than himself. She had stark white fur and lively green eyes.

Shadowfoot abruptly snapped his attention to the she-cat. The hatred that had been on his face was a mere memory; it was replaced with concern. "Cloud, why are you away from your mother?" he demanded.

Cloud shrugged. "I just wanted to see you."

Shadowfoot shook his head. "You never learn, do you, Cloudy?"

The little white kit let out a purr. Her green eyes sparkled as she dashed over to Shadowfoot, rubbing against him. Duskpaw figured Shadowfoot must be her father.

"Let's go!" Cloud piped. "I want to play Attack!"

Shadowfoot sighed, making sure to cast every one of them a glare before following his daughter out.

Hawkstalker let out a hiss, moving to stand in front of the opening, keeping any other cat from entering—or leaving.

Crowshade snorted. "And to think he's my brother! Falling for a loner and having kits with her!"

"Is Cloud his daughter?" Duskpaw asked, just wanting to make sure that his assumption was correct.

Crowshade nodded. "My brother has always had a soft heart for Misty. Cloud is his first daughter. He'd never send her to RoseClan no matter how much they'd accept her. He has had five sons in two different litters. One of his sons ran off to be a rogue. And the other two are good ThistleClan warriors: Goosewing and Blackfang."

Duskpaw felt better knowing that Cloud was part of his Clan. She was pretty and she reminded him of Briarpaw.

The medicine cat pushed past Hawkstalker, heading out of the den.

"You probably know Goosewing's kits: Whitepaw and Graypaw, right?" Littlefeather asked.

He did remember them; they were Snowpaw's brothers. Duskpaw nodded, suddenly itching to meet up with his old friends. They'd left just a moon before him. He wondered what they looked like now—has ThistleClan changed them that much? "When will I be with the other apprentices?"

"Tomorrow," Littlefeather assured him. "It is part of the initiation that apprentices have their first day to themselves aside from their mentor, father, and medicine cat checking in on them. Shadowfoot and Cloud broke a very important rule today. We never want to exhaust the newbie with names or try to force them to accept ThistleClan right away. Hawkstalker and I will be leaving, only to return to bring you fresh-kill. By morning, you will have time to think things through and decide if you are ready to begin training."

Duskpaw nodded, ready for a day to himself. He didn't have to worry about facing his new Clanmates today.

"I'll see you later," Hawkstalker meowed as he turned out the den. Littlefeather cast him a cautious glance before following his brother.

Duskpaw sighed, wishing that in the morning he would wake up and be back with his mother and sister; back where he belonged.