In the hottest days of green-leaf, it rained for days and days, with no end in sight. It was early morning, and Frostpaw stood in the shelter of the holly bush that formed the apprentices' den, blinking miserably out at the pouring rain. The water had turned their whole territory into a swamp, the camp included. Rain had collected in massive pools in the center of the clearing in front of her, so to get to one side of the camp to the other, cats had to either skirt around the edges, or just trudge through knee-high mud and chest-high water. Luckily, the dens had been prudently formed on the higher ground around the edges of the camp, so none of them had been flooded by the rain.

But, as much as Frostpaw hated the rain and the mud, bafflingly, a lot of the warriors didn't seem to mind it. She had watched ShadowClan warriors slip unbothered through muddy water that came up to their shoulders like they were some sort of otter. Some even dived totally under the water, then emerged with frogs and salamanders clamped in their jaws. The territory itself too had seemed to come alive from the rain in a way Frostpaw had never seen it before. The fresh-kill pile was overflowing, and even right now, Frostpaw could hear the constant droning of cicadas, birds, and frogs in her ears, echoing from all parts of the territory down into camp.

Frostpaw felt a cool drop of water that wiggled its way through the thickly netted holly branches above her, land on the top of her head and run down to her nose. Frostpaw shook her head, sending the droplet flying. She didn't like how when she went out into the rain, her fur got so soaked and water-logged, making her motions feel heavy and cumbersome. Redclaw had told her that she needed to eat more frogs to make her pelt sleek and water repellent, but Frostpaw thought that that advice might be an old nursery tale. Although, she had to admit, some warriors' pelts did seem to shed muddy water as easily as heron wings did… so Redclaw's words might have a whisker of merit.

Frostpaw twitched her whiskers. She would have to pay closer attention to see how many frogs each of them ate.

Frostpaw's attention shifted to a flicker of movement from the warriors' den, underneath the dark, prickly bramble bush on the other side of camp. She saw the silver-and-black dappled form of Swoopstrike emerge. He didn't hesitate before stepping out into the rain, padding right to the pool at the center of camp and slipping into it. Frostpaw watched as he half-walked, half-swam across towards the apprentices' den, emerging with mud dripping from his belly, tail, and chin, turning the lower part of his body completely brown. His green eyes spotted Frostpaw sitting in the shelter of the holly bush easily.

"We're going on a hunting patrol," Swoopstrike said to her. "Get Pinepaw too. She's coming with us. Meet us by the bramble tunnel soon."

Frostpaw nodded, and Swoopstrike turned, heading to the fresh-kill pile to get himself some food before their patrol. Frostpaw watched him for a moment longer, seeing him pick up a frog to eat.

Frog. Huh.

Tail twitching thoughtfully, Frostpaw turned back into the den to wake Pinepaw.

Pinepaw and Murmurpaw were the only apprentices left sleeping in the cozy moss-lined den. Mosspaw, Poolpaw, and Autumnpaw were gone before Frostpaw had woken up, having already left for patrolling or training. Frostpaw padded over to Pinepaw and roused her by muttering her name.

The black-furred apprentice's amber eyes flickered open, and she twitched one ear at Frostpaw questioningly.

"We're on a hunting patrol," Frostpaw said. "Leaving soon."

Pinepaw yawned widely and nodded, sitting up in her nest. Frostpaw turned and padded back to the entrance of the den, leaving Pinepaw to give her pelt a quick grooming. Frostpaw hesitated at the exit of the den for a moment before she forced herself out into the rain. As she padded towards the bramble tunnel that led out of camp, she tried her best to stick towards the closest edges of camp, where the ground wasn't swamped and where the tree branches stretching in from the surrounding forest were the most dense. But, still after only a few moments of walking, Frostpaw's fur was soaked through with water. Frostpaw sat down heavily by the bramble lined path with a sigh. Her skin was already completely wet, but at least it was hot outside, so she wasn't cold. In fact, she could almost convince herself that the cooling touch of the rain was nice on the muggy green-leaf day.

"Frostpaw," Grovepelt said in greeting, padding over to her with Marshnose, Dampfang and Kestrelmoon at his tail, whom Frostpaw presumed were the rest of their patrol.

Frostpaw twitched her whiskers in reply, sending water droplets flying. She gave a friendly nod at Kestrelmoon, but was careful to avoid eye contract with Dampfang and Marshnose. Although she could still hear Dampfang snort derisively when he saw that Frostpaw was on their patrol. Swoopstrike padded over quickly, having finished his meal. Despite the incessant rainfall, his belly was still brown; the mud not yet washed off.

"I'm here!" Pinepaw gasped, her paws squelching in mud as she bounded over to the group, her eyes wide with worry about being late.

"Alright then," Grovepelt meowed. "Then we are off."

Grovepelt led the patrol through the narrow path out of camp. The cats traveled in single file with Frostpaw the last in the line, walking right behind Swoopstrike's black striped tail. She was fine to be last, though. Marshnose and Dampfang were the prickliest in the camp towards her, and they were only a few tail-lengths away! Frostpaw flicked her whiskers. So, she was happy to have Swoopstrike as a buffer between her and them.

Her paws twitched, her mind drifting back towards the hunt. Maybe this patrol was a good chance to prove them wrong, though. If she caught a ton of prey, neither of them would be able to say that she was a useless rogue that didn't provide for ShadowClan. Frostpaw raised her chin, setting her jaw determinedly.

With sure paws, Grovepelt wove through the waterlogged land, being sure to keep the group on the slightly firmer, higher ground. Frostpaw pricked her ears. She could hear Pinepaw meowing to Dampfang, but the older tom was responding mostly with grunts. Frostpaw twitched her tail. She didn't know what Pinepaw saw in that frog-brain. Although Frostpaw and Pinepaw didn't always get along, Frostpaw still knew that her den-mate deserved better than him.

As they walked, Frostpaw noticed that Grovepelt was headed straight towards the river that cut through the heart of ShadowClan territory. Frostpaw swallowed back a sigh. The territory surrounding the river was the marshiest area of ShadowClan land. And, they were hunting there on the rainiest day of the year!

Well I suppose it doesn't matter if we hunt in the pines or in the marsh. We're soaked through either way.

More sycamores than pines grew in this part of the territory. They cropped up slowly, but eventually they surrounded the patrol with huge mottled grey and brown trunks, some of them nearly as wide as the Burnt Sycamore's. Shaggy moss hung down from low branches, almost like the trees were coated in long green fur. Frostpaw could hear the croaks of frogs and the rushing sound of the stream ahead, much louder than normal because of the incessant rainfall. Frostpaw flinched in surprise as a huge dragonfly whirled past her grey muzzle, just narrowly missing her whiskers. She shook her head, flinging water off of her ears as she continued forward.

Patches of tall grasses and cattails popped up around them as they got closer to the river, and the sycamores became less dense. Grovepelt headed straight into a thick wall of grass, and the rest of the patrol followed. Swoopstrike was only a tail-length ahead of Frostpaw, but his form was quickly lost in the thick, green fronds.

The whole marsh around them was in bloom. Shocks of yellow, blue, red and purple petals, colors that seemed to Frostpaw strangely out of place in the woods, peeked out through cracks in walls of light green grasses that surrounded them. Frostpaw could taste a sweet hint of nectar in the air from the flowers, and despite the rain, bugs of all kinds swarmed—moths, bees, butterflies, battling with each other to get to the blossoms first. Frostpaw peered at them curiously as they padded past, so fascinated by the glittering colors of their wings and shell-like bodies that she almost forget about the discomfort of her soaked pelt clinging to her sides. Grovepelt came to a halt in the heart of the marsh, indicating with his tail for the group to spread out.

"We will hunt here today," he meowed.

He glanced over at Pinepaw and Frostpaw and spoke for what seemed to be their benefit.

"The rain sends furred creatures into their hollows and burrows. But, the animals in the marshes come out. We will have good luck with frogs and water birds here," he said. "But, be aware of the river. It is running much harder and faster from all the rain. You won't be able to wade across it like we can normally."

Frostpaw nodded. The group split up, Kestrelmoon padding off to hunt alone, Dampfang and Marshnose slinking off together. Grovepelt nodded at Pinepaw, and the two of them headed into the tall grass, vanishing from sight quickly. Frostpaw turned towards Swoopstrike. He flicked his tail to one side, away from the way the others went.

"Lets go this way. I'll teach you swamp-hunting. You'll want to use a different technique than under the trees," he said.

Frostpaw nodded and they padded off, with Swoopstrike leading. A long-winged fly fluttered past Frostpaw's face, and she paused for a moment to recline onto her haunches and bat at it with her forepaws.

"Frostpaw!" Swoopstrike snapped.

Frostpaw sunk back onto all four of her paws, ears flattening guiltily.

"Do you plan on feeding the clan with bugs?" Swoopstrike said sarcastically, looking back at her from a few tail-lengths away through the tall green fronds.

"No," Frostpaw mumbled, padding over to him.

He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything more about her fooling around, instead he got right down to the hunt.

"As you can see, the environment of marsh hunting is significantly different than hunting in the pine forests. In the forest, there is little to no undergrowth, but here…" Swoopstrike gestured to the tall grass on all sides of them, "The grass is thicker than fog. Vision means practically nothing, for both you and your prey. In that way it is almost like night-hunting. You need to rely on your other senses. Although it will be difficult with all the different scents and sounds mixing together around you. Luckily, the marsh is bursting full of prey, so they can't all be that hard to find."

Frostpaw nodded and Swoopstrike continued.

"You will need to alter your hunting crouch too. Remember, in the forest, there is little undergrowth, so we make ourselves as low and flat as possible and stick to the shadows to draw less attention to ourselves. Here, none of those things matter," Swoopstrike said. "If you make yourself too low and flat, all that's achieved is to bog your belly down in the mud. You will want to use a much higher stance. The grass will do the hiding."

Swoopstrike bent his knees slightly, holding his tail out straight behind him. Frostpaw copied him. He gave a curt nod.

"Good. The other thing you have to be aware of is your paws. We are walking in water and mud that goes up to our ankles," Swoopstrike said.

He lifted one paw up like he was going to take a step with it. It made a squelching noise as he freed his paw from the muck, then as he put it back down, it slapped the water, making a small splash.

"If you walk like that, the prey will hear those foot-falls from fox-lengths away. You have to glide your feet through the water, never completely lifting them out of it. Do you understand?" he said.

Frostpaw nodded hard again.

"Good," he meowed again. "Go and try it out by yourself. I'll check back in on how you're doing in a little bit."

Swoopstrike padded off, vanishing quickly into the tall grass. As he walked away, Frostpaw scented the air. She could smell rain and damp mud and musty moss mixed in with the sharp edge of the marsh grasses all around her and the hint of sweet flowers. Frostpaw breathed deeper, trying to sift through the scents in search of prey, but all the different marsh-smells were too strong. They barraged her nose with all the different notes of life around her, but not the kind of life she wanted.

Frostpaw's tail twitched uncertainly. With the constant drumming of the pouring rain, and the insects and cicadas droning in her ears, she couldn't make out where any prey was with her hearing either. Sure, she could definitely hear a chorus of frogs croaking, but mixed in with the confusion of the other sounds, she couldn't tell what direction it was coming from.

Well, frogs like to be by water. I'll check the bank near the river.

Frostpaw began to creep through the tall grass fronds around her, holding herself in the strange high-crouch Swoopstrike showed her and shuffling her paws along through the mud as well, so she wouldn't alert any prey that she happened to stumbled upon.

As Frostpaw traveled in the direction towards the stream, the sound of the rushing water grew louder in her ears. Frostpaw brushed through a patch of cattails and blinked in surprise to see the river suddenly appear. As Grovepelt had warned, the bank of the stream had moved much closer than she was used to. A fast muddy-brown colored current rushed past her paws, the rainfall turning the normally soft gurgling stream into an angry, bloated, twisted version of itself.

Frostpaw cautiously eyed the rapids. It didn't look like a place prey would be. Just from looking at it, Frostpaw could tell the water was moving much too quickly for frogs to swim through it. But, still, she could hear them croaking, seemingly all around her.

Her tail twitching slightly in frustration, Frostpaw turned her head to survey the area up and downstream from her. Through the weeds, she noticed that along the banks rain had collected into large, still pools that hadn't quite yet filled so high that they ran into the edge of the river. Frostpaw noticed a flicker of greenish-brown skin moving through the grass, and her muscles tensed in anticipation.

Frogs!

Frostpaw began to creep forward, forcing her tail to be still and straight behind her even though she really wanted to twitch it in excitement. As Frostpaw approached the pool, peering out at it from her hiding space in the tall grass, she could see five, six, seven! frogs all either perched at the edge of the water or floating contentedly in the shallow pool. Frostpaw tensed, safely hidden in the grass as she readied herself to pounce. She knew she couldn't catch all of the frogs at once, but frogs tended to be slow moving prey. So, she should be able to catch at least a few before the rest fled into the grass. Frostpaw fixed her gaze on a group of frogs all sitting by the edge of the pool. Taking a deep breath, she wiggled her hindquarters then pounced.

Frostpaw shot out of the grass, her paws slamming down on two of the frogs, killing them instantly. One of the other frogs in the group sprung away, towards the grass, but Frostpaw snatched it up easily in her jaws before it got lost in the tall fronds, feeling a crunch beneath her fangs as the frog died. Two other frogs had hopped into the pool with croaks of alarm, but the pool was small and shallow, with nowhere for them to hide. Frostpaw dropped the frog from her mouth and sprung into the pool, her paws flashing through the water to hook her claws into the slimy side of one of the frogs. As she fished the frog out, the other leapt away into the grass, quickly vanishing from sight. Frostpaw scooped the struggling frog out of the water with her paws, bringing it up to her muzzle to bite its head, killing it. She twisted her head to look around, but she couldn't see anymore prey. The rest of the frogs had gotten away. Frostpaw twitched her whiskers. She still felt content with her catch of four.

Frostpaw padded out of the pool. She hardly noticed the water dripping from her legs since the rainfall still had not let up. She pushed the frogs together in a pile at the edge of the pool and scooped mud over them, casting careful glances around her to make sure some hungry, predatory bird had not seen her stash of frogs. Once the prey was adequately hidden, she padded over to a nearby tall purple flower and nipped the stalk, wincing at the taste of sickly-sweet sap in her mouth. She ripped the flower down and laid it over the mud mound of frogs.

Now I can easily find where I buried the prey, in case the rain washes my scent away.

Frostpaw raised her tail, feeling rather pleased with herself. She turned back towards the river.

If I keep following it, I'm bound to find more pools and more frogs. And, maybe some birds too!

Frostpaw padded back over to the bank, turning to walk downstream and careful to keep a tail-length's distance between her paws and the edge of the rushing water. As she walked, Frostpaw continued to sniff the air and listen intently to her surroundings, but no elucidating scents or sounds made themselves known to her, so she continued her journey onward.

After Frostpaw sprung over a large branch laying on the bank of the river, she paused walking for a moment to look out over the water. Raindrops made rings of circles in the water when they hit the surface, but only for a moment before they were snatched away by the current. And, in the cattails across the river, a tall, pure white egret stood. The bird didn't even cast Frostpaw a glance. It seemed to know there was no way Frostpaw could make it across, so she was no threat to it. Frostpaw studied the bird, her tail twitching. She wasn't even sure she could take the bird down by herself, even if it was on her side of the bank. Its long, spindly legs were taller than her. Frostpaw's ears twitched back suddenly as she heard a loud crashing noise.

"Look out!" a voice behind her yowled.

Frostpaw had enough time to just half-turn her head towards the sound. Right next to her side she saw a flash of a long, thin beak and a large mess of grey and white feathers whip past her. Then immediately afterwards, she felt something heavy slam against her hindquarters.

She didn't even have time to see what hit her. Frostpaw's paws scrabbled for grip against the slick, muddy ground to no avail as she was shoved forward, her feet sprawling. Frostpaw slid straight into the river and found the water here was much deeper than she expected. Even in the shallows, it lapped hungrily at her shoulders.

Frostpaw's tail whipped around to try to keep her upright. She braced her feet in the muddy river bottom. But, she gasped as her legs were snatched out from under her by the powerful current. Her paws waved frantically, searching for purchase, to only find more water beneath her as she was swept into the deepest part of the river. Her heart pounded wildly in fear. Frostpaw had just enough time to let out a wail before the river gripped her its powerful claws, and her head too went under the muddy water.

The world around her was a confusing, swirling mess of dark water and mud and silt. Her eyes were stretched wide and flying around wildly, but she couldn't make any sense of the space around her. Up or down? Her paws flailed. Her heart thumped in panic. Her lungs ached from holding her breath, and even moving her legs was becoming increasingly difficult as her heavy, water-logged fur dragged through the river slowly, fighting against her motions.

Terror seized Frostpaw in an icy grip. Her muscles were burning. She was quickly growing too tired to keep battling the current. She forced herself to slow her useless flailing, hoping it would conserve her energy. Frostpaw closed her eyes, fighting her jaws to keep them shut even though her body begged her to open them and gasp for breath. Then she felt her feet brush something solid…

The river bottom.

Frostpaw clenched her fangs, summoning her remaining strength, and with all her might, she kicked off the ground to shove herself upwards. Frostpaw's head broke the surface, and she gasped for breath, feeling the burning in her chest ease and feeling energy flow back into her muscles as air flowed back into her lungs. She couldn't tell where she was; her gaze was clouded by spray from the river, and her head was bobbing up and down too much to get a good look around. And, all she could hear was the roaring of the the river in her ears. But, she was still alive… for now at least. And, she had to try to stay above the water.

"Help!" Frostpaw yowled, hoping desperately that some of her patrol was able to hear her.

Her paws had settled from frantically waving in all direction in the water into some sort of instinctual paddling motion that was helping her head stay above the water, but her strength was too sapped to actually propel herself out of the fast-moving river.

"Help!" Frostpaw wailed again.

She swirled around in the current, and her eyes widened in terror as she saw herself careening towards a large branch that was also caught in the same rapids. A powerful wave of fear surged through her veins, resupplying her energy. Frostpaw kicked her paws out, struggling to free herself from her collision course with the branch, but the strength of the river was too mighty. Frostpaw's left flank hit the branch hard, and she had just enough time to gasp for a big breath of air before the force of the blow knocked her back beneath the waves.

The world went silent around her again as she sunk deeper under the water, completely at the mercy of the river's will. As Frostpaw swirled every which way in the rapids, she felt convinced that she wouldn't be able to make it back to the surface this time. She tried to kick out her legs to push herself upwards, but they responded like she was shouting at them from miles and miles away, moving only after a delay and very sluggishly.

I can't swim back up.

Frostpaw's brow furrowed slightly. Weirdly, she didn't feel panic at the thought. She only felt exhaustion, wrapped tightly around her, stifling her, like a thick blanket of moss. But, she did feel a small spark of worry in her chest at her lack of panic.

If I don't swim, I'll die. She tried to motivate herself.

Frostpaw made a weak attempt to move her paws.

I'm too tired; I can't. She thought back to herself.

Frostpaw gazed blearily at her forepaws out in front of her. She could just make out their light grey color through the dark, murky water.

Would it be so bad to die? StarClan is supposed to be a nice place. And, I might get to see May again.

Frostpaw stilled, letting the river carry her wherever it wished, resigning herself to her watery fate. Then, looking out between her forepaws, Frostpaw saw a shadow of movement through the water. The shadow seemed cat-like in shape, and it was heading towards her.

…May?

Frostpaw felt a stirring of hope in her chest that the spirit of her mother had come to somehow help her, or to guide her to the afterlife.

Although Frostpaw still couldn't make out the cat properly, the shadow came even closer, swimming down to right above Frostpaw. Frostpaw felt sharp fangs sink deeply into her scruff, and she felt a sting of physical pain, which she thought seemed very unghost-like. Frostpaw then felt herself being tugged upwards by the shadow-cat.

Frostpaw was unable to keep her jaws shut against her screaming chest any longer, and she exhaled a long stream of bubbles before inhaling water. Frostpaw felt her lungs spasm in protest as they tried desperately to expel the water and breathe in air, but only to find there was just more water around her. Frostpaw felt a burning sensation stab deep in her chest, and her vision start to go dark.

Am I dying?

Then Frostpaw's head breached the surface.

Frostpaw hacked some of the water out of her lungs, sucking in huge, greedy gasps of air, before falling back into a coughing fit to try get the rest of the water out. Frostpaw could feel herself still being tugged along by her scruff, and she could feel a sinuous body brushing against her back, powerful and certain paws propelling them towards the bank. Frostpaw's feet trembled, much too weak to try to paddle along, so she concentrated just on breathing, letting the cat carry her by the scruff like a little kit. Frostpaw's gaze flickered backwards towards her rescuer to see Swoopstrike, his green eyes dark with concentration and fixed on the river bank. Frostpaw felt a warm surge of gratitude in her chest towards her mentor, but she was still coughing too violently to express it.

The moments dragged on, and they made little progress towards the bank. A dark cloud of worry descend on Frostpaw as she began to fear that Swoopstrike wasn't strong enough to break them both out of the strong current and carry them to shore. But, then Frostpaw's ears pricked as she heard a splash, and she twisted her head towards the noise to see another cat paddling through the water towards them, navigating through the worst of the currents.

Marshnose? She thought in surprise as she recognized the brown tabby.

He swam over to them, and she felt a second pair of jaws sink into her scruff. Then with a strong tug, the three cats were free from the main current of the river. Frostpaw felt a surge of relief so powerful she almost passed out, but she managed to fragilely cling to consciousness as they paddled quickly to shore.

As they approached the bank, Frostpaw felt her paws brush the muddy ground, and she struggled to get them under her, trying to force her feet to hold her up. She felt Marshnose let go of her, but Swoopstrike kept a firm grip on her scruff, only releasing after he had hauled her entirely out of the river and onto the shore.

Back on firm land, Frostpaw sank to her belly, her legs shaking too hard to stand. She turned towards Swoopstrike to see him also sinking to the muddy ground, panting hard.

"Thank you," Frostpaw gasped.

"Are you okay?" Swoopstrike rasped back in reply.

Frostpaw nodded before turning her head to hack up another few mouthfuls of river water onto the bank.

Frostpaw saw the grasses around her stir, and the rest of their hunting patrol came quickly pushing out of the weeds. Frostpaw saw Grovepelt sweep a worried gaze over the cats, and she saw a wave of relief wash over his expression when he saw everyone was okay.

"What happened?" Grovepelt asked.

"Frostpaw fell in the river," Marshnose said, with a growl in his voice, his tail twitching.

"No. Someone pushed me," Frostpaw managed to rumble in a low voice between her coughs.

Grovepelt swept a stern gaze over the cats in the patrol, waiting for someone to speak up. Dampfang took a step forward.

"I was chasing some prey, and I didn't see Frostpaw standing there at first because of the grasses," he meowed in a steady voice. "I tried to warn her, but it was too late."

"I could've drowned!" Frostpaw gasped, forcing the words out between coughs and clenched fangs. "You didn't even give me enough of a warning so I could move out of the way!"

Dampfang looked at her with a harsh green gaze.

"You should've listened to Grovepelt's warning and not been standing that close to the river in the first place!" he spat. "Because of your carelessness, you not even put your own life in danger, but Marshnose's and Swoopstrike's too!"

Frostpaw glanced over at Swoopstrike. He was slowly rising back to his paws, and every piece of fur on his pelt was bristling. Frostpaw felt her stomach flip as a wave of worried nausea washed over her. Was Swoopstrike angry with her? Had she been being careless? But, to Frostpaw's surprise, Swoopstrike did not turn his fury on her, instead he whipped towards Dampfang.

"You pathetic excuse for a warrior!" Swoopstrike exploded, his green eyes burning with fury. "You think this is her fault? Guess what, I saw you run into her, you piece of snake-dung. The grasses weren't that thick since I could see you and her from a few fox-lengths away, so you, sure as StarClan, should've been able to see Frostpaw! It was you that must've not been paying attention. And, it was you that decided to put the three of our lives at risk for a stupid bird!"

Swoopstrike had shoved himself right into Dampfang's face. He now stood only a whisker-length away, his tail lashing behind him, his jaw clenched. Dampfang curled his lip up, looking at Swoopstrike from down his muzzle.

"I was concentrating on chasing a heron! It was so big, it would've fed four warriors! Frostpaw should've been more aware of the environment around her!" Dampfang snapped.

"Oh I'm sorry! A whole heron, you say?" Swoopstrike sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me see this amazing piece of prey that is worth more than cats' lives!"

Swoopstrike made a show of looking around Dampfang's paws, his eyes mockingly wide.

"I didn't catch it," Dampfang hissed through clenched teeth.

"Wow! I'm so shocked!" Swoopstrike spat, flattening his ears. "The might Dampfang that decided it was worth it to risk the lives of his clan-mates for a bird, didn't even catch it!"

A look of deep fury washed over Dampfang's face.

"You have no right to reprimand me!" Dampfang snarled. "I'm a warrior, no different than you. Not some sniveling apprentice!"

"If you don't want me to reprimand you, then stop acting like a frog-brained idiot!" Swoopstrike spat, shoving his muzzle so close to Dampfang's they almost touched.

Dampfang let out a warning hiss, his eyes glittering dangerously. Milky white claws slid out from his black-furred feet. Frostpaw's eyes widened. Her gaze flickered over to Pinepaw. The other apprentice was watching the interaction with equally as wide eyes.

Would Dampfang really attack Swoopstrike?!

"That's enough!" Grovepelt growled, shouldering his way between the bristling toms. "I will not have this come to blows!"

Grovepelt turned to look down at Frostpaw.

"Kestrelmoon, help Frostpaw and Swoopstrike back to camp. I want Clearstream to take a look at them. The rest of the us can finish the hunting patrol and bring their catches back to camp for them," Grovepelt said.

"I'm fine," Swoopstrike growled.

"Clearstream and Elmclaw will decide that," Grovepelt snapped, the normally patient deputy looking fed up.

Swoopstrike jutted out his chin, planting his paws in the ground stubbornly.

"Fine. But, before I leave, I want to know what you'll be doing to punish Dampfang for his reckless behavior," Swoopstrike said, his tail twitching behind him.

Grovepelt gave a small sigh, closing his eyes for a moment like he was desperately searching for patience.

"It sounds like he made an honest mistake," Grovepelt said slowly.

Dampfang raised his chin, shooting a smug look at Swoopstrike. Frostpaw clenched her jaw, her tail twitching in anger. She wanted to claw that expression right off his dumb muzzle.

"Which could've had dire consequences," Swoopstrike growled, narrowing his eyes at Grovepelt. "And, he didn't even try to help Frostpaw after he pushed her in!"

"…You're right," Grovepelt said, inclining his head, conceding the point. "Dampfang, you should have paid more attention to your clan-mates. You will clean the elders' den and help them with their ticks for the next five days."

"What?" Dampfang growled, his smug look dissipating like morning fog on a hot day. "But, Frostpaw was—"

"It doesn't matter that Frostpaw was standing by the river. She wouldn't've fallen in if you hadn't hit her, frog-brain!" Swoopstrike hissed, cutting him off.

Dampfang silently glowered at Swoopstrike but didn't make a move towards him.

"Come on, let's start to head back to camp," Kestrelmoon muttered, breaking the tension in the air around the group.

Kestrelmoon nudged Frostpaw's side with his muzzle. Frostpaw slowly rose to her paws. She felt the water she had swallowed lurch in her stomach nauseatingly, but she was grateful that at least her lungs were clear, and she could breath again. She did sway slightly on her paws though; her legs still weak.

"You can lean on me," Kestrelmoon said.

Frostpaw gave him a grateful nod and leaned some of her weight against the tom's cream-colored shoulder. Frostpaw glanced over at Pinepaw.

"I caught four frogs earlier," she said to her den-mate. "They are buried upstream next to a pool. I marked the spot with a purple flower."

Pinepaw gave a curt nod.

"I'm glad you're okay," she muttered, looking away from Frostpaw.

"Thanks," Frostpaw meowed, feeling a flash of warmth towards Pinepaw.

Swoopstrike led the way, stalking off into the grass. Kestrelmoon turned Frostpaw and him in his direction. As they padded off, Frostpaw saw Pinepaw pad over to Dampfang.

"I could help you with the elders, if you want," Pinepaw murmured to him in a low voice.

The fur down Dampfang's back prickled.

"I don't need anyone's help," he growled before turning and stalking off.

Pinepaw silently watched him go, her tail twitching before turning and padding back over to Grovepelt. Frostpaw and Kestrelmoon pushed their way into the tall grass, cutting the rest of the patrol from view.

Author's Note:

Here's the next chapter! Thanks for reading and for everyone that reviewed! Side-note: Anyone else read "Squirrelflight's Hope" and get offended by the cats saying that ShadowClan would never hunt in the marsh, even though like half their old territory was marsh!? Before I read that, I had still been planning this chapter since I wanted to highlight he marsh-y part of their territory in this story regardless, but after I read that, it really inspired me to finish this chapter up haha.

Reviews:

Brian.H.H: I like you're analysis on Frostpaw and Pinepaw! You're definitely right about the differences in their personalities. Although I wouldn't comment on your predictions because I don't want to give anything away!

Simitria: Autumnpaw's tactic is my favorite too haha, it's definitely quite a bit more practical than Frostpaw's. Haha Swoopstrike is only happy when he gets to torment someone…

Kitty-Guardian Hootryd: Thanks! Since so much of the canon stories are ThunderClan-specific, I really enjoy highlighting what makes the other clans special in my fanfics! And, yeah I feel like the apprentices spend so much time squabbling that it was fun to have them work together for once haha.