A/N: YOU GUYS

Thank-you for jumping on this story so fast! It hasn't even been up for 24 hours and it's already got 5 reviews ;-; you all are the best. NOT TO MENTION THOSE FAVS AND FOLLOWS. Yeah, I see you ;) You don't know how much it means to me. So thank you. Thank you thankyou.

To my reviewers:

Pandean: I'm glad you like Sootpaw :3 I just wanted to try a different approach to character development. Not to mention that Ravenpaw is actually distant kin, as he's Dustpelt's brother.

flamzystilllovesyou: It's okay! I'm just glad that you take the time to read, the reviews are a bonus! And that's kind of what I'm wanting. Every cat is so sure of what they're meant to do, but not every warrior can start off courageous and certain.

Kai Lover911: I did too ;-; I tried writing a fic for him, but the inspiration for it kind of left me, so I'm thinking about taking it down and starting again, but... better. lol.

Stormbreeze: I will do my best! I've got a lot of thoughts for this fic right now, so I hopefully won't disappoint you with my update speed xD

I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 2

Fawnpaw growled irritably as she was prodded awake. She opened her eyes and narrowed them into a glare. Sweetpaw, however, was immune.

"It's time for training," she mewed brightly. "We're due at the mossy hollow."

"Sparring with Hollystep?" Duskpaw stretched in his own nest.

"No," Sweetpaw sighed. "I wish we were though. Brackenfur taught me this amazing move yesterday—my hind legs are still sore from learning it."

Duskpaw snorted. "You're just like Hollystep. Spiderleg told me that she was always dying to do battle training."

"Birchfall told me the same thing," Speckledpaw chimed in from where she was washing her dappled tortoiseshell fur. "He said when they'd had hunting assignments he'd always had to do double because he was so much better than her at hunting."

Fawnpaw bristled defensively. "Hollystep can hunt just fine," she snapped as she stood.

"Put your claws away," Sweetpaw's whiskers twitched. "Of course she can hunt just fine now, Birchfall meant when they were apprentices like us."

With a toss of her head, Fawnpaw stalked out of the apprentices' den. Outside, the camp was already bustling. Squirrelflight and Sorreltail were leading Sootpaw and Littlepaw out of camp—Fawnpaw thought she remembered Sootpaw saying they were going out on a hunting assignment. Warriors were flocked around Hollystep as she assigned patrols for the day. The dawn patrol left next, headed by Cloudtail. She narrowed her eyes, scanning the camp for her mentor. If he's already in the mossy hollow I'm crowfood!

She felt Sweetpaw's flank brush her own as she slipped out of the apprentices' den. "I can't see Brackenfur," she cast Fawnpaw a sidelong glance. "Do you suppose they're waiting on us?"

The pale tabby blew out a frustrated sigh. "Come on, let's hurry." She led the way as they trotted quickly to the thorn tunnel. As soon as her haunches were clear Fawnpaw burst into a run. Flashes of sunlight through the thick leaves overhead dappled the familiar trail, splashing her fur with warmth as she ran. Sweetpaw kept pace with her, her tail streaming out behind her. When they burst into the clearing, it took everything Fawnpaw had not to tackle her sister. She spun to face her, her eyes narrowed.

"They're not here," she bit out.

"I guess not," Sweetpaw widened her lake-blue eyes in some sort of feign of innocence. "But we are. Think of how pleased they'll be that we're early." She sat and curled her tail around her paws, looking proud of herself. Fawnpaw rolled her eyes.

"You just wanted to work on that move Brackenfur taught you." She padded to the center of the clearing. "Well?"

Sweetpaw leapt to her paws. "Really?"

"Why not? What else are we going to do while we wait?" Fawnpaw crouched, watching her sister carefully as she positioned herself across from her. Sweetpaw sidled towards with a soft hiss, her eyes glittering playfully. With little warning, she sprang. Fawnpaw reared onto her hind legs, but was taken off-guard when Sweetpaw's jump fell short of where her eyes had been targeting. She lunged forward and swept Fawnpaw's back paws out from under her before dancing back a few steps.

"What do you think? Cool, isn't it?" Sweetpaw crouched again. "You try it on me now!"

Fawnpaw narrowed her eyes in determination, sinking back onto her haunches. Her jump brought her exactly where she needed to be, but instead of rearing onto her hind legs, Sweetpaw stepped delicately to the side.

"You can't stare at the ground in front of my paws," she teased.

"You have to make your opponent think you're trying to land on their shoulders."

Both apprentices spun guiltily to face their mentors. Brackenfur's eyes were warm though, and Hazelfang's whiskers were twitching.

"That was well done, Sweetpaw," Brackenfur continued. "Your jump still needs more height though—if they don't react quickly enough you have to be able to make it onto their shoulders."

"Can we try it again?" Fawnpaw looked imploringly at her mentor, but the dark gray and white tabby shook his head.

"Not right now," Hazelfang's tone didn't leave room for argument. "Right now we're going to go work on patience."

Fawnpaw wrinkled her nose. "You know I'm no good at that," she moaned dramatically.

With a roll of his eyes, Hazelfang cuffed her heavily over the ear. "That just means you need more practice. Let's get going."

Brackenfur led the small patrol out of the mossy hollow and towards a great alder tree towards the back of their territory. They stopped at the edge of the clearing, hidden in the ferns. Amongst the alder's roots were tangles of bramble and ivy.

"Now," Brackenfur's voice was a hushed murmur. "Tell us what you can smell."

Sweetpaw parted her jaws and inhaled deeply; Fawnpaw followed suit. Her ears pricked suddenly.

"Mouse," Fawnpaw exhaled.

Sweetpaw frowned. "I don't smell mouse," she muttered. Flattening her ears in concentration, she sniffed more intently.

Hazelfang glanced proudly at Fawnpaw. "Well scented," he praised her quietly. "Now we know that there are mice there—what do we do?"

"Hunt them…?" Sarcasm dripped from Fawnpaw's mew.

"Yes," Brackenfur acknowledged. "But first, we wait."

Giving up on scenting the hiding mice, Sweetpaw blinked curiously at the golden warrior. "For what?"

"Just watch, and be as still as possible." As he spoke, Brackenfur sank into a low crouch. The rest of the patrol mimicked him. Just when Fawnpaw felt sure she was going to turn to stone, a small gray mouse scurried out of a knot of brambles. Fawnpaw tensed immediately, but Hazelfang put a wide paw on her back, stilling her movement.

"Not yet," he hissed under his breath. "If you make so much as a peep that mouse will vanish right back into its hole and you'll never see it again."

Fawnpaw shot her mentor a baleful glare but obeyed. As they watched, it ventured further and further from its hideout, snuffling through the grass and fallen leaves for nuts and berries.

Hazelfang slowly lifted his paw from Fawnpaw's back. "Are you confident that you can kill it in one jump?" When Fawnpaw nodded, the big warrior angled his ears towards the mouse. "You scented it, you get the first attempt."

Attempt? Sweetpaw had bested her at battle training—it was Fawnpaw's turn to shine. She crept closer, until her nose was peeking out of the ferns. With a wiggle of her haunches and a mighty leap, Fawnpaw brought her forepaws down on either side of the mouse and finished it with a quick bite to the neck. She turned back to her spectators with its limp body in her jaws.

"Great catch!" Sweetpaw's tone was full of mirthless admiration. She was too good-natured to be bitter.

Fawnpaw tilted her chin up proudly and padded back to Hazelfang's side. She dropped the mouse and pressed her nose to Sweetpaw's shoulder. "You'll definitely get the next one."

Unfortunately, she didn't. But the third mouse that dared to venture from its nest fell to the gray apprentices' claws, and pleased with their progress, Brackenfur and Hazelfang brought them back to camp.

"Bring those to the elders and get something to eat," Hazelfang told Fawnpaw. "Once you've finished we'll head back to the mossy hollow."

"Will we spar?" Sweetpaw seemed excited by the prospect, but Brackenfur shook his head.

"No. You're going on the evening patrol with me and Snowheart, we won't have any more training today."

"Oh," Sweetpaw's eyes grew wide. Fawnpaw gave her sister a nudge.

"Lucky!" The pale brown tabby bounced ahead of her sister as they headed to the elders' den. "I want to go on the evening patrol…!"

"It's not all that exciting," Dustpelt's dry meow greeted them as they dropped their mice in the small pile of fresh-kill in the elders' den.

Fawnpaw felt her eyes drawn to the old warrior's horribly misshapen front leg. Hollystep had told them the story while they'd been in the nursery—about how their grandfather had been caught in a trap meant for bears. Leafpool had managed to set the bone straight again, but he could no longer bend his leg and had lost feeling in his pads.

"Well Nettlemask told us it was," Sweetpaw was meowing brightly when Fawnpaw cleared her head and started listening again. "She said the forest is different at night."

"I remember my first evening patrol like it was yesterday," Longtail sighed. "I was so jumpy my mentor almost sent me back to camp before we'd even reached the border."

Fawnpaw's whiskers twitched. "I bet Sootpaw's going to have the same problem."

Mousefur rolled her eyes. "Don't you apprentices have anything better to do? I'm never going to get this nap if you stand about gossiping with these two all day!"

With an apologetic purr, Sweetpaw ducked out of the elders' den, Fawnpaw hot on her paws. "Want to eat togather?"

Fawnpaw licked her lips, suddenly aware of how loudly her stomach was complaining. "Sure." They padded to the fresh-kill pile together. After carrying her mouse back, the pale tabby found she was craving one, and she snagged a plump one from the bountiful pile. Sweetpaw took a squirrel and led the way back to the apprentices' den.

"I wonder what kind of battle moves I'll be working on," Fawnpaw wondered aloud. With the sun at its peak, most of the clan was resting in the shade, eating and sharing tongues while they waited for the heat of the day to pass. Hollystep and Rainwhisker were beneath the high-ledge, eating with Ashfur, Cloudtail, and Brightheart. They seemed to be talking about something important, but from the other side of camp Fawnpaw couldn't hope to hear. Sunpetal was stretched out in front of the nursery, Snowheart at her side. The large white warrior was grooming her beautiful golden pelt, his eyes filled with adoration.

"I wish Sunpetal would hurry up and have those kits," Sweetpaw sighed as she finished her squirrel. She licked a paw and smoothed her whiskers.

"It's supposed to be any day now, isn't it?" Fawnpaw swallowed her last morsel of mouse and licked any stray juices from her muzzle with a swipe of her tongue.

Sweetpaw nodded. "That's what Redpaw said." As she spoke of him, the pale ginger tom emerged from the medicine den with a bundle of herbs in his jaws. The darker red stripes that rippled through his fur blazed like fire in the sunlight. Though he was training to be a medicine cat, a delicate layer of muscles showed through his short pelt. Fawnpaw didn't doubt for a moment that Duskpaw had been asking his brother to practice battle moves with him. I would do the same if Sweetpaw or Sootpaw were training to be a medicine cat. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of being stuck in that cave all day, surrounded by strong smelling herbs. No thanks.

"He's a pretty handsome cat, isn't he?" Sweetpaw mused, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Sure," Fawnpaw snorted, "If you're into medicine cats and breaking the warrior code." She saw Hazelfang standing and meowing something to Spiderleg before padding to the thorn tunnel. "That's my cue." Fawnpaw jumped to her paws. "I'll see you tomorrow Sweetpaw—you'll have to tell me all about your evening patrol!"

Sweetpaw called an agreement after her, but Fawnpaw didn't stop to reply. She met Hazelfang at the thorn tunnel with her tail high.

"Ready?"

Fawnpaw met her mentor's question with a challenging glare. "I'm always ready."

Sweetpaw shifted her weight from paw to paw. The sun was sinking behind the trees, bringing a welcome relief from its heat. Brackenfur sat patiently beside her, amusement glowing in his eyes. Snowheart looked ready to come out of his fur—Leafpool had said the kits had dropped, it was only a matter of time before Sunpetal began kitting.

At long last, Birchfall shouldered his way through the thorn tunnel. Speckledpaw was just behind him, and Fenneltail brought up the rear.

"How were things on the ShadowClan border?" Brackenfur stood as he greeted the returning patrol.

"All quiet," Birchfall reported. Fenneltail flattened his ears.

"I don't like it," he growled. "They've been far too reserved lately. It's not like ShadowClan at all."

"Do you think they're planning something?" Sweetpaw blinked curiously up at the dark tortoiseshell warrior. One foreleg was completely white, as if he'd stuck it in a pile of snow. There was a white ruff along the top of his chest, stretching from one shoulder to the other, and the tip of his tail was the same brilliant white. It was easy to see that he was Sorreltail's kit, though she had far more white fur than her son. What fascinated Sweetpaw the most was how he and his brother, Hazelfang, never seemed to agree on anything.

"I'm certain of it," the white tip of his tail flicked to and fro in agitation. It was hard for Sweetpaw to imagine her level-headed father mentoring the obstinate warrior.

"We'll sweep the WindClan border then," Brackenfur finally meowed. "We should get going, the moon is rising."

With a few murmured farewells the evening patrol slipped out into the forest. Sweetpaw sucked in an excited breath as they slipped into the shadowy forest. Nettlemask was right…! As they padded quietly towards the WindClan border and the moon rose higher in the starry sky, Sweetpaw's wonder grew. The moonlight stained everything silver, and cast a ghostly glow on Snowheart's white pelt. The shadows cast by its cold light were deeper and darker than those cast by the sun's warm rays, and they whispered of mystery.

"Wow…" Sweetpaw's eyes grew wide as they stopped at the bank of the stream. It glowed like starlight as it burbled on towards the lake.

"You can get a drink if you'd like," Brackenfur purred. "Snowheart, why don't you head upstream and remark the boundary?" The white warrior dipped his head and followed the bank up and away. Sweetpaw crouched at the water's edge and lapped at the shimmering water.

"I never realized how pretty the forest was at night," Sweetpaw shook her head as she straightened, sending glittering drops spinning from her muzzle.

"It's also dangerous," her mentor warned her. "So don't get any ideas."

Sweetpaw heaved a dramatic sigh. "You caught me," she admitted with mock exaggeration. "However did you figure out my plans?"

Brackenfur rolled his eyes and gave her a nudge. "Come on," he urged her. "Let's get this patrol done and get back to camp. I want to work on your climbing tomorrow."

With twitching whiskers and high spirits, Sweetpaw padded along the stream at her mentor's shoulder. As they continued downstream, WindClan's scent grew stronger and stronger. Puzzled, Sweetpaw stopped and parted her jaws, tasting the air.

"Did the wind change?" She could see Brackenfur's hackles beginning to bristle. "No," he mewed tersely. "That's WindClan's scent on our territory." He stalked forward, his legs stiff, and brushed his cheek along a trailing tendril of ferns. "Firestar isn't going to like this at all."

"Have they trespassed? Do you think they stole prey?" Sweetpaw's mind was churning like the restless stream beside them. "Will we attack them?"

"That's up to Firestar," Brackenfur bent and bit the stem of the fern. "Carry this," he flicked his tail at the leaves as if they'd offended him. "I'll get Snowheart and we'll head back to camp."

As gingerly as she would lift a newborn kit, Sweetpaw took the fern in her teeth. When Brackenfur returned with an alarmed Snowheart, the trio trotted briskly back to the stone hollow. The moon was long past its peak when they returned, and Sweetpaw's tail dragged in the dirt behind her. Her paws felt like stones as she drug them along.

Not without sympathy, Brackenfur touched his nose to his apprentice's ear. "Leave that here for now," he meowed gently. "Go get some rest. I don't expect to see you out of your nest until sunhigh."

Though she wanted to be there for his report, Sweetpaw couldn't bring herself to deny her paws the rest they were longing for. She trudged to the apprentices' den and stumbled past her sleeping denmates. She was about to lie down when a pair of startlingly bright amber eyes flickered open.

"How was the evening patrol?" Sootpaw's voice was soft, but not drowsy. Sweetpaw wondered briefly if he'd been having a hard time sleeping, but didn't have the energy to ask.

"WindClan," she mumbled as she sank into her nest. A yawn stretched her jaws. "You'll hear all about it tomorrow…"

Sootpaw blinked, his expression unreadable, then stretched forward to draw his tongue across her shoulder. Without another word, he tucked his muzzle back under his feathery tail and closed his eyes. Sweetpaw curled into a tight ball and did the same, sleep coming swiftly to her exhausted mind.