I am ON FIRE with this story so far! The girl who was on fire, that's what they'll call me! XD Anyway. Starkid fangirling aside... Thanks everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate your feedback, be it one sentence or five paragraphs!

Sorry for the... darkness... at the end of Chapter 1. But don't worry, it's not like that all the way through. Also, quick reminder: this is set in the old forest (*cough*because I love the old forest territory and absolutely hate the new lake territories*cough*) before Firestar's time. Like, waaaaay before, so there won't be any of Erin Hunter's characters in the story. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

"Hey, Heronpaw, wake up!"

She groaned and pressed deeper into the moss as if it would hide her from sight. The smell of dried blood and the clean, unfamiliar moss brought back memories of the day before with a sharp, startling clarity.

"Heronpaw, Jumppaw. Your mentors are waiting." There was that voice again.

"Mentors?" the black and white she-cat lifted her head, confused. Tawnypaw was stood in front of her, his golden-brown tabby fur rippling in sleek waves as a soft breeze ruffled the fern walls of the den. The older tom's amber eyes were gleaming in amusement as he regarded the young apprentice.

"Yeah, mentors. You're an apprentice now!" he meowed, nudging Jumppaw with one paw. Jumppaw pushed him aside irritably, rising to his paws. Heronpaw stared at the toms uncomprehendingly, trying to remember who her mentor was. The ceremony had gone by in a blur of grief and pain.

Jumppaw spotted her expression and sighed. "My mentor is Yewbelly, and yours is Foxdrift." His sigh, the way he spoke to her – as if he was disappointed – ruffled Heronpaw's fur. She didn't have time to glare at him, however, because Tawnypaw was weaving his way past them and out the entrance, tail waving in the air, blocking her view.

I think I hate all my new denmates, the she-cat thought, scowling to herself. She deliberately spent longer inside the den than usual, sat in the corner among the leafy stems of the fern walls, washing her fur with long, slow strokes of her tongue. She didn't look at Jumppaw. Tawnypaw's brother, Shrewpaw, was already outside but his scent lingered in the den. Heronpaw didn't want to leave the privacy of the soft green walls. What must her Clanmates think about her now? The apprentice that killed her brother.

But then she realised that all the warriors must have had to kill, at only three moons old, to become apprentices. Just like her. That thought didn't make her feel any better. She thought of Pinekit and grief stabbed her heart.

"Heronpaw? You in there?" Yewbelly stuck his head inside the den. Heronpaw recognized the tabby – his unassuming striped pelt, amber eyes and the unusual pale brown fur of his belly that gave him his name. "Foxdrift's waiting for you."

Let Foxdrift wait, Heronpaw thought mutinously. I don't care. But eventually she dragged herself outside.

"Ah, my new apprentice. There you are."

Heronpaw raised her head and saw her mentor properly for the first time. Foxdrift was a tall tom, with dark russet tabby fur and narrow, graceful shoulders. His piercing yellow eyes stared levelly down at her. Heronpaw's eyes grew wide. My mentor. He's going to train me to be a warrior! For a heartbeat, she forgot the pain of losing Pinekit and joy flooded her.

"Come. I've been told you've already had a taste of the forest outside the camp boundaries, but let's go out again," Foxdrift meowed slyly, regarding her in amusement. Heronpaw squirmed in embarrassment, remembering her rebellious dash out of a small tunnel in the very back of the camp. Of course Foxdrift knew about that.

Heronpaw followed the tom as he led her to the camp entrance. She was silent, not sure what to say, wishing Pinekit was with her.

Foxdrift glanced back at her as she trotted obediently at his side. "Heronpaw, no cat blames you about what happened," he meowed. "It's quite normal in the assessment. You're not alone."

Heronpaw swallowed. His words made a painful lump form in her throat, and she couldn't speak. Instead she focused on climbing the steep sandy slope of the ravine, scrambling over rocks and trying not to slip. When they reached the top, Foxdrift halted her with a sweep of his ginger tail.

"What do you smell?" he meowed.

Heronpaw paused and took a deep breath, raising her nose to the air. The forest opened up around her, and she could see tall trees with skeletal branches covered in small green buds. "I can smell green leaves... and dog, but it seems far away."

Foxdrift stared at her closely. Heronpaw glanced at him, and mewed, "And prey. And... cats? Really fresh cat scent." Then she realised that she could probably smell cats because there was a camp teeming with them right behind her. Embarrassment flooded through her and she ducked her head between her shoulders, waiting for Foxdrift to say something.

But all he said was, "Good. You've picked up on the patrol heading in our direction."

Patrol? What patrol? Heronpaw gaped at him, and he gave her a sly wink as three cats emerged from the foliage.

"Hey, Foxdrift. Giving young Heronpaw a tour of the forest?" Cinderfoot, the most senior warrior, meowed warmly, smiling at Heronpaw. Following him was Nettlefur and Whitefoot.

The black and white queen immediately rushed forwards and pressed her muzzle against the apprentice. "It's okay, Heronpaw," Whitefoot whispered. "I don't blame you. You had no other choice. One of you would have died anyway. I still love you."

Heronpaw heard a choking sound coming from her throat as she tried to reply. "Thank you," she managed to get out. Whitefoot's words, and Foxdrift's statement that what she had done was a fairly normal occurrence in the assessment, made her feel a bit better although there was a dark hole in her heart where Pinekit once was. Heronpaw knew she would never forgive herself for killing him, but she hoped he'd forgive her in StarClan.

"Come on," Foxdrift meowed as Whitefoot drew back, "let's go." He nodded to Cinderfoot as the grey warrior led his patrol down the ravine.

"Where are we going?" Heronpaw mewed, trying to feel optimistic.

"To the sandy hollow to begin training," Foxdrift meowed, leaping ahead with his long legs. "But I'll show you one of ThunderClan's landmarks along the way."

Heronpaw bounded after him, feeling sunlight on her pelt and last leaf-fall's leaves under her paws. Foxdrift was so fast, gliding along the forest floor as though he had wings. Heronpaw shot after him as fast as her stumpy legs would let her, hoping she wouldn't fall flat on her face. Eventually they reached a massive tree that stood out from the rest. Its branches arched up into the sky, and Heronpaw craned her neck, trying to see the top.

"The Owl Tree," Foxdrift meowed proudly.

"Owl?" Heronpaw mewed.

"An owl lives here," her mentor replied. "Best not get too close. Stories say that a legendary ThunderClan apprentice, Owlpaw, learned to hunt at night by following an owl that lived in this very tree."

"How do you know it's not the same owl that lives here now?" Heronpaw challenged. It was a stupid question, one a kit might ask, but she was really trying to distract herself from thinking of Owlkit, the kit who died in front of her, Jumppaw's brother.

Foxdrift let out a mrrow of laughter, regarding her through half-narrowed eyes. "Maybe it is, Heronpaw. But if it is, then this owl must be the oldest creature in the forest!" He rose to his paws and began padding away from the Owl Tree. Heronpaw followed at his heels.

When they got to the sandy hollow, Heronpaw realised that they weren't alone. Jumppaw and Yewbelly were there. Yewbelly was talking to his apprentice, who was listening closely. Heronpaw felt a prickle of annoyance.

"Do we have to train with them?" she mewed irritably to Foxdrift, who's whiskers merely twitched in amusement.

"Why not?" the ginger tom meowed. "You and Jumppaw will be going through your training side-by-side." Heronpaw huffed. She wasn't sure she liked Jumppaw that much.

"Ah, Foxdrift," Yewbelly, the older warrior of the two, meowed warmly, beckoning the arrivals with his tail. Heronpaw was aware of Jumppaw trying to catch her eye, but she stubbornly, determinedly avoided looking at him and tipped back her head to watch the warriors closely.

"What are we learning?" Heronpaw mewed inquisitively.

"We were thinking battle techniques," Yewbelly meowed. "So first, why don't we have you and Jumppaw face each other. We'll evaluate what you can do with instinct and then build on your styles." Foxdrift nodded, sat with his tail curled around his paws.

Battle techniques? Heronpaw swallowed nervously. She didn't want to fight. She remembered facing Jumppaw at the apprenticeship assessment. And now she was facing him again, hardly a day later.

Jumppaw rushed at her. Heronpaw swiped at his muzzle but he ducked, ramming into her. Heronpaw lay flat on her back, but as Jumppaw approached she caught his flank with her paws. He hissed and jumped on her, flattening her to the ground.

She felt his paws raking her belly and thanked StarClan his claws were sheathed. Heronpaw wanted to do something to protect herself, but she didn't want to fight Jumppaw again. She slammed her paws against him as hard as she could, and he lost his balance.

Jumppaw snapped at her ear with his jaws, and suddenly terror shot through Heronpaw. She didn't like this. She hated every minute of it. She didn't want to get hurt and she didn't want to hurt Jumppaw.

"No! I'm not doing this," Heronpaw heard herself hiss. It was as if her body acted of its own accord as she spun around and raced away into the trees.

"Heronpaw!" Foxdrift hissed after her, but she ignored him and ran as fast as she could.

Poor Heronpaw! Was this chapter okay? And, quick question, do you think I should post the allegiances at the end of a future chapter?