The river's water flowed past the apprentice's paws, the refreshing coolness beckoning her forward. Starlingpaw had walked with Honeypool to the calmest part of the stream and prepared herself to enter.
"The swimming is supposed to increase your strength," the medicine cat had explained on their trek to the border. "Water takes some weight off of your paws, so it will be easier to exercise them. That way, your muscles will grow stronger through the swimming practice and it will be easier to walk when you don't even have the weight of the water on you."
Now the sable she-cat stood before the water and felt the importance of the situation. If this treatment really worked, she would become a normal cat. Hunting and fighting would come with more ease, and her warriorship would be plausible. The moments to come would define her future- if the treatment didn't help her condition at all, she would be stuck as a bumbling kit for as long as she could imagine.
"Go on," the ginger she-cat meowed, nudging Starlingpaw with her nose. "I'm right here, you won't drown. Just paddle with your paws, try to swim against the current."
She took a deep breath and plunged one paw in. The stream was a welcome respite from the sticky Greenleaf heat, and soon enough Starlingpaw had submerged herself almost completely in the water. Her head poked up above the surface, and she began to paddle against the current. For a heartbeat or more it felt unnatural to be moving her paws without touching the ground, but she felt the comforting hug of water surrounding her and fell quickly into a rhythm.
"You're doing well!" Honeypool meowed from the riverbank. "Just keep swimming until your legs get tired. Make sure you don't push yourself too hard, though."
Starlingpaw barely heard her words, too excited at the prospect of curing her illness, whatever it was. She paddled with a second wind, her short fur sticking close to her body. The apprentice swam with great enthusiasm, each kick and swipe of her legs as strong as she could manage. She began to drift upstream from her efforts.
Starlingpaw had moved a whole fox-length against the current when her legs felt the strain of the exercise, and she let her body be carried by the river back to the shore, where she gently shook some of the water out of her now-gleaming fur and began to lick it dry. Her yellow eyes sparkled with delight, and she waited for Honeypool's verdict.
The medicine cat sat back a few pawsteps, studying the apprentice intensely, then said, "You've done well. I think returning here every other day to swim should greatly improve your condition," Starlingpaw's heart leaped with joy, but Honeypool wasn't finished. "However, it won't do much to help your head-shakes. Even now, as you were grooming, I noticed the movement. It bobbles back and forth. Does it affect you?"
Starlingpaw shifted her paws uncomfortably and stopped grooming. "No, not really. I mean, I don't have anything to compare it to. It's all I know."
Honeypool nodded. "Well, good. Adaptation is likely our best way around your disability."
The she-cats sat in silence while Starlingpaw finished grooming her fur, her head tilting left and right rapidly as she did so. Honeypool watched curiously, which made Starlingpaw uncomfortable and stressed, so she spat out the first conversation topic that came to mind.
"Birchpaw and I were at the river today, and he was acting really strange. He fell in when he was trying to fish and I tried to help him out, but he threw me off of him and ran away. It was really…" she trailed off at Honeypool's expression. Her ears shot straight up and her eyes were wide.
"Birchpaw ran off? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" the older she-cat meowed quickly, getting to her paws.
She turned herself towards the line of trees and foliage, but before she could leave, Starlingpaw meowed, "Wait! Do you know something? Why did he do that? Is he mad at me?"
Honeypool looked over her shoulder to answer curtly, "It's not my secret to tell, dear. You'll have to ask him yourself." With that, she shot into the undergrowth and disappeared into the woods.
Starlingpaw knew she could follow the medicine cat easily and likely discover what was up with her fellow apprentice, but she felt a crawling feeling at those words. It's not my secret to tell. Birchpaw had said something curious earlier- he knew how it felt to have a disability. Starlingpaw blinked in shock. Did Birchpaw relate more to her than she had ever thought? Though she ached to learn what was happening, she heeded the medicine cat's statement. She wouldn't spy on Birchpaw and creep around like some sort of traitor. No, she would have to ask him. But what if Birchpaw was still angry at her for what had happened that morning?
She mulled over these thoughts as she laid down beside the riverbank, facing away from the water and towards her territory. Starlingpaw tried to fill her head with dreams of her future warriorhood, but she no longer found them quite as comforting. Birchpaw himself was nearly at the end of his apprenticeship; he had traveled to the Moonfalls and was about six moons into his training, but for some reason, he hadn't received his warrior name. What if she was destined for the same fate? Perpetual apprenticeship, held back by her disability?
No, she thought, shaking her head as well as she could manage with her head bobble. Whatever Birchpaw is suffering from, he can overcome it just like I am. We can do it together!
Comforted by this thought, she got to her paws, but was startled by a rustling sound from across the river. Whirling around, she saw and smelled a young DuskClan tom. Likely a new apprentice, his ginger fur was still fluffy and delicate.
The apprentice's snout curled into a sneer, and he hissed, "Fernpelt, look! That apprentice was doing water exercises like an elder!"
Starlingpaw puffed out her fur in anger and unsheathed her claws, glaring at the cat with anger. Embarrassment crept over her fur as well- he had seen her treatment! She wanted simultaneously to claw him and to hide from him.
An older tom emerged from the foliage, his brown tabby fur nearly hiding him against the forest's dark leaves. His green eyes shone with amusement, but he nudged the apprentice with his nose and meowed. "Don't be rude, Owlpaw." His words were laced with laughter, and Starlingpaw felt more anger at the DuskClan cats. She couldn't help the fact that she needed to swim to improve her strength, but they laughed at it all the same. To think that moments ago she had been so proud to swim in the river, to improve her strength and balance, and now all she felt was humiliation and the unfamiliar cats' gazes burned through her fur.
"Let's leave the apprentice to her training, shall we?" the cat named Fernpelt mewed, and walked off into the forest.
Owlpaw lingered a moment longer to inspect her further, to which Starlingpaw hissed at him, baring her teeth as she advanced. The ginger cat leaped into the air and bounded after his mentor, and Starlingpaw noted that even a young little cat like him could walk with more ease than she.
Wanting nothing more than to sleep and forget the mortifying events, she returned to camp, her fur hot with embarrassment. Starlingpaw thought of Birchpaw and wondered if he had felt the same when she had tried to help him, ashamed of his own identity and wishing to disappear, if only to get a break from every cat's judging glares.
Despite her curiosity at Birchpaw and his possible condition, she took a moment to imagine herself in his situation. How would she react if some cat she barely knew asked her about her greatest shame, her deepest secret? There would be an obligation to tell the truth, but she wouldn't want them to treat her differently just because of some weird thing she was born with. The choice would be very difficult and uncomfortable and might ruin her currently delicate relationship with Birchpaw. She decided to stay quiet and let Birchpaw tell her when he was ready. That is, if he ever was.
When she returned to camp, tired from the swimming exercise and still upset about her unsavory encounter with Owlpaw and his mentor, Starlingpaw headed straight for the apprentices' den. Larkpaw was resting there, splayed out on the ground like a piece of fresh-kill, and she snorted in laughter at his odd position.
"Wake up, you lazy kit," she meowed into his ear as she nudged his side with her nose. "I need to talk with you."
Larkpaw hissed weakly, then pried open his eyes and rose drowsily to his paws. "What is it, Starlingpaw?"
She gathered her words, preparing to tell her brother everything that had been going on for the past few moons. Starlingpaw figured it was time that he knew before it was too late, but even still she felt the unspoken words claw at her throat, trying to stay inside her instead of coming out. "I have a disease. A- a disability, really. Honeypool calls it 'kit-gait' and basically I have a funny walk and it's hard for me to hunt and fight."
Larkpaw blinked at her words, and she worried for a moment that he was too tired to process her words, but he said, "Go on."
"It's the reason that I don't train well. I've had to restart everything in my training with Darkfeather, but I'm doing a lot better now. We've also been trying to treat it with herbs, except nothing has worked yet. Honeypool thinks that water exercise will work, so I'm going to have to swim in the river often to work up my strength," she spat out the words with dizzying speed, so much so that Larkpaw seemed lost for an instant before he caught up with her explanation.
"Huh," he mewed thoughtfully. "Somehow, that is not what I thought it was."
"Well, I'm also technically missing my hunting instincts, but Honeypool says that's probably a byproduct of-"
Larkpaw cut her off. "That's not what I meant, mouse-brain! I was wondering why you're always gone when I want to hunt with you or to talk like old times. I've missed your stupid jokes and teasing. I guess I figured you were off with… well, with Birchpaw, you know." He gave her a knowing look that both baffled her and made her fur burn hot with embarrassment. What did he mean by that?
"Well, I figured you were fine alone with Tawnypaw!" she retorted, cuffing him playfully over his head. "You can't tear your eyes from her for a moment!"
Trying valiantly to ignore her teasing comment, Larkpaw meowed, "Tawnypaw is going to become a warrior soon, you know. She's six moons into training."
That was true. Tawnypaw was a skilled fighter, as all the apprentices knew, but she hadn't yet taken her trip to the Moonfalls, not to mention that even the oldest apprentices, over eight moons into training, hadn't been made warriors. Even Starlingpaw herself was just about a half-moon away from being a six-moons apprentice, though of course, she knew it would take a while longer for her to train.
"But you know, even Poppypaw hasn't been made a warrior yet. She's been an apprentice for ages now, and she's been to the Moonfalls, too." Starlingpaw realized.
Poppypaw, Birchpaw, and Ravenpaw had been lucky enough to travel to the Moonfalls with Blizzardstar a couple of moons ago. The black-and-white brothers were the second oldest of the apprentices, Poppypaw being the eldest. They had been raised by their mother, Ebonypetal, alongside Larkpaw and Starlingpaw; as their mother had died during kitting, Ebonypetal nursed the siblings when they were kits. However, Thornflame had made sure they never grew too close to the dark-furred she-cat, and only let them spend time with her when absolutely necessary.
"That's true, I guess," Larkpaw meowed. "And Birchpaw and Ravenpaw, too. Who knows when we'll ever receive our full names?"
Starlingpaw shrugged by ducking her head below her shoulders, no longer trying to hide its wild movements from Larkpaw, and sat down on a bed of moss. "Well, it'll be especially long for me. Maybe you'll get to make the journey soon, though," she replied, trying to calm her brother's visible worry.
He nodded and laid down beside her, and the siblings talked for a while as the sun dipped below the trees. Just as Starlingpaw was beginning to nod off, absentmindedly listening to Larkpaw's ramblings about fighting maneuvers, she noticed Birchpaw pushing through the thicket tunnel into camp. Her paws pounded with the desire to run over to him and ask what went wrong, but the somber look in his eyes and the extra touch of jumpiness in his movements made her stay put.
Her brother turned to look at her due to the sudden movement and he fell silent as he saw where her gaze was pointed. Larkpaw purred with laughter. She swatted at him in retaliation.
"What?" he mewed, dodging her strike. "I'm not wrong! Why don't you go talk to him?"
Starlingpaw didn't have the time or energy to explain her reservations about speaking with Birchpaw, but she also didn't want to seem too scared to talk with a fellow apprentice, so she got to her paws and padded over to him, attempting to ignore Larkpaw's comment.
Birchpaw noticed her as she approached, trying in vain to back away and hide. He was left standing awkwardly, his back arched, as Starlingpaw stood in front of him.
"Hi, Birchpaw," she mewed quietly, tucking her head back to keep it still.
"U-um, hi," Birchpaw responded, barely audible. His black and white fur shook as he trembled in what she guessed was fear, though she had no idea why. He seemed especially nervous, not that it was unusual for him to shake, but she wondered why he was acting so odd. Of course, that morning had been unpleasant for them, and confusing for Starlingpaw, but why did it scare him so much?
She had no time to dwell on his behavior, as a loud call rang out through the wooded clearing. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the tallest tree for a Clan meeting!"
Starlingpaw turned to the tallest tree, which met its name well. The oak towered so high that she couldn't see where its trunk ended. Its roots shot through the ground, parts of them peeking up through the earth. Branches extended all around its trunk, far into the sky. One specific branch was perfectly situated for a leader to address their Clan, and Blizzardstar sat there now. His fluffy white fur stood out sharply against the natural greens and browns of the tree, giving the tom an elegant air that was entirely contrary to his amiable personality.
As Starlingpaw and the other Clan cats gathered to hear what their leader had to say, she noticed that Nettleclaw, one of the warriors, was sitting beside her elder parents, Mossfur and Willowclaw. The warrior was a perfect mix of her parents, mostly white like Willowclaw with patches of Mossfur's dark tabby coloring. Her eyes were green as well, the color the two elders shared. Nettleclaw's fur was well-groomed, as if in preparation for something, and as she looked around Starlingpaw noticed that Poppypaw's fur was shining as well. Nettleclaw was Poppypaw's mentor; Starlingpaw guessed in an instant what was going on.
She inhaled sharply as she noticed Thornflame, her father, sitting next to Poppypaw. He licked furiously at his first daughter's fur, trying to perfect her appearance, and Starlingpaw felt a stab of jealousy. She couldn't control the fact that her litter killed Thornflame's mate. She couldn't control much about herself, really, but that didn't mean that her father should ignore her for it. Starlingpaw assumed that he had always been like that, cold and uncaring, but to see him fuss over his eldest daughter twisted her heart in her chest. What if that were her? Would she be so hopeless and lost about her future if she had a sincerely devoted parent?
Blizzardstar interrupted her thoughts by beginning the ceremony she knew was coming. "I, Blizzardstar, the leader of DawnClan, call upon our warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice, Poppypaw," As he spoke, Poppypaw got to her paws and walked closer to the tree, staring up at her leader with glittering eyes. Nothing else gave away her excitement. Nettleclaw moved to sit near her. "She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Nettleclaw has taught her many skills, and she will make a strong warrior. Poppypaw," he began the sentence that would define the apprentice's life, and Starlingpaw couldn't help but wonder if she would ever hear the words directed at herself. "Do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?"
Blizzardstar jumped down from the tree as he spoke and now stood before Poppypaw, his eyes glowing with pride. Starlingpaw watched as her sister nodded and meowed, "I do."
"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name; Poppypaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Poppyfang. StarClan honors your strength and your bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of DawnClan."
As cheers and cries of "Poppyfang!" echoed under the tree, Starlingpaw noticed the Clan deputy, Ashscar flinch at the name. Ashscar meowed along with her Clan quietly, her gaze directed at Blizzardstar, and her eyes aflame with some unknown anger. Starlingpaw didn't find it hard to believe that the strict she-cat clashed with her own leader, who was more taken to kindness and surrender, but why was she angry at this joyous Clan ceremony? The apprentice rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. Starlingpaw herself wasn't enjoying the meeting, either.
Starlingpaw wanted to rush forward and congratulate her sister, but jealousy and realism told her that Poppyfang would not receive her well, and she crept out of the crowd as well as her legs could manage.
The ceremony threw feelings of anger right into her face, the unfairness of her upbringing bubbling back up from where it had never bothered her, and a striking fear that the ceremony she had just witnessed would stay just that; something she saw but never knew, held back indefinitely by her stupid walk. Starlingpaw knew that her training was going better than it had before, of course, but in that moment she was terrified and obsessed with failure.
As she backed away from the Clan, her hind legs bumped into something. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Birchpaw, their noses less than a mouse-length away from each other. Simultaneously, the apprentices stepped apart, and Starlingpaw watched as the tomcat ducked his head in apology at their collision.
For a split second, the fur around his scruff spread apart as his neck moved, and Starlingpaw spied an ugly scar, perhaps bite marks, underneath the fur. She blinked, shocked, and wondered for an instant if the injury was what had made him so upset, but it looked much too old to cause any real pain. Startled, she took a step backward, and meowed a swift farewell, then retreated to the apprentices' den.
As she left, she cast one quick glance over her shoulder, and noticed Birchpaw staring intently at something, his eyes oddly serious and burning with what looked like a grudge. His ears were flat against his head, and she trailed his gaze to the cat he was staring at.
It seemed Birchpaw and Ashscar had something, uncannily, in common.