Chapter 7: Trial by Fire

Rusty and I found the large golden tom waiting where we first met. While Rusty's excitement blinded him, I was still alert. Something didn't smell right. There was an unfamiliar scent in the area, but I couldn't pinpoint it. I cocked my head around and listened for the slightest disturbance while Rusty ran up to the tom we'd seen the day before.

"I honestly didn't think you two would come back given how wary your friend is."

I flicked my ear acknowledging his statement, but I did not stop searching.

"So, tell me Rusty, am I alone?"

Rusty seemed surprised and somewhat panicked at the statement. Then his eyes spotted me. He knew well enough that I don't let cats sneak up on me, so my current behavior meant some other cat was in the area.

"I think so. Smudge senses them," Rusty mewed carefully.

"Very good." Mewed the golden tom waving his tail in a signal.

My eyes flicked to the arrival of a large white tom with decently long fur. He was massive. He seemed seasoned and definitely experienced. He was probably only a year younger than Bluestar given how his experience manifested in tells. He glided into position by the golden tom. The way he walked was smooth and silent. His right front leg walked slightly off tempo, likely an old scar inhibiting movement slightly. It wasn't anything that slowed the white cat down, but it definitely told of surviving a difficult fight. He stared at me with an intimidating focus. He was measuring me like I was him.

"Bluestar was right. This Smudge is an interesting one," spoke the white tom.

"How can you tell?" Asked the golden one.

"Look how he is measuring me. He's been analyzing us since we made an appearance. When I walked in, his eyes caught my slight limp. Given how little his is speaking and how little he is giving, he's waiting for us to give him an advantage. Right now, he's likely wary since we know his name, but he doesn't know ours, thus we're winning right now in his eyes."

I tried not to give away that he nailed it on the head. I was losing the information game since instead of Graypaw or Bluestar appearing, we were given a stranger.

"That's an easy fix. My name is Lionheart, and this is Whitestorm," gave away Lionheart.

They must have seen the tension leave my shoulders at this new piece of information. I was no longer the disadvantaged.

"So, have you two made up your minds?" Asked Lionheart in somehow a both inquisitive and dismissive tone.

Rusty was the one who responded. "Yes! We're ready!"

My sweet friend was a ball of excitement. That in turn bled into me. I felt jittery in anticipation. While Rusty seemed to be bouncing in place, only my tail gave away how excited I was with its slow wave and twitchy tip.

"Then follow us," mewed Lionheart who immediately took off at a fast pace.

The two probably didn't expect us to keep up. Admittedly, the undergrowth and uneven ground gave us difficulty, but Rusty and I had been training our endurance for a long time. I could see them peeking backwards occasionally and the hardly hidden surprise they hadn't nearly lost us yet. Then they led us to a gully. It didn't look deep, but the water was stagnant and foul smelling. The two guiding toms leapt over with ease. An untrained cat would have to wade those waters, but Rusty and I had also trained our jumping. It was a close jump and my tail accidently flicked across the surface of the water with my landing, but my paws were dry, so it still counted. Finally, the duo led us around towards where I smelled a density of cat scent. I couldn't tell how many, but there were enough cats in one area for their scent to twist into a distinct mass. Underneath each cat's unique scent was something the same, which multiplied in density the more they congregated together. It was like the mixture of autumn leaves with the earth's scent that accompanied fresh rainfall.

"Can you two smell it?" Asked Whitestorm, impressed by how well we kept up.

Rusty instantly began scenting since his excitement had made him oblivious to all but the task given to him.

"There's a lot of cats nearby. There's a lot of individuals I can't pick out, but they share part of a common scent." I replied carefully.

Whitestorm's eyes opened slightly at how descriptively I responded. "I didn't expect you to get that. Anyways, that is the scent of Thunderclan, the clan you two are trying out for. Given how well you two did, you have my recommendation."

Lionheart led us through the thorn barrier entrance to the camp revealing a clearing of sorts in an about seven-foot steep dip in the land. The top of the dip was surrounded by snagging bushes, but making intrusion more difficult and hiding the location. It was impressive how functional this natural structure worked. Even the trees overhead made a hawk attack unlikely given how much it choked out the sky to only straight up and down. Now that I was looking closer at the surrounding bushes, I realized it was too convenient. They were too close together to occur naturally, so they had to be transplanted. These cats weren't as uncivilized as I thought. They might not be making brick houses, but they seemed wise enough to change the environment to suit their needs.

"I see our two guests have arrived. How did they fair?" Asked Bluestar smoothly from atop a rock that positioned herself above anywhere a cat could reasonably climb to inside the camp.

"These two kept up surprisingly well. They stumbled on unfamiliar soil, but they made up for it with their high endurance, and they even managed to clear the gully in a jump." Answered Lionheart genuinely.

I instinctively cleaned the tip of my tail that had splashed in the gully ever so briefly. I didn't want them to deny me entry because my tail touched the surface. Bluestar's keen eyes must have spotted my embarrassing brief tail grooming, assumed what had happened, and let out a slight chuff of amusement. It appeared we were still in this game of looking for an edge on each other.

Bluestar yowled and waved Rusty and I forward. I mostly ignored the proceedings, measuring the rest of the cats in the area for hostility. Sure there were some cats who didn't want us, but I was more specifically looking for cats who might attack us in our sleep. From the crowd, I picked out two cats. One was a silver tom, probably about a year old, and the other was a black and dark grey tabby who looked just shy of two years old. They stood close together, so clearly the two were of some alliance or relation. Regardless, my eyes narrowed at the two. Then I heard Whitestorm's voice in my ear. I glanced over and it seemed Lionheart was doing the same for Rusty.

"You need to prove yourselves. They think you are soft and weak. Prove them wrong."

Rusty leapt first at the silver tom leaving the tabby for me. Great, I had the more experienced one to fight. While Rusty let out a yowl for his attack, I charged silently. I saw the tabby's eyes widen as I charged him down. At the last second, I dipped my head and with a scooping motion, flung him over my back like a bull would. Since it was a shoulder tackle, something cats did not do instinctively, it had a lot more force than a regular tackle a cat would do. I heard the tabby crash down behind me, hopefully winded enough for me to spin safely.

By the time I'd gotten turned, he'd already scrambled to his paws. He had eyes that spoke of both malice and experience. I couldn't best him, but I could make a fair showing. Despite being younger, I had more weight than him. I'd have to press my one advantage. Instead of clawing or swiping like my instincts demanded, I kept shoving him and trying to force him off balance. He caught on rather quickly. I caught a scratch across my nose bringing with it the fresh scent of blood. I responded by turning one of my shove attacks into a clawing. It wasn't deep, but he caught a long scratch across his leg. I tried to press another charge, but he caught me off guard. He slipped under me, and with a deliberate motion, flipped me. I was in shock. He flipped me! I'd never been flipped before. The few rogues I sparred were never able to do that. Soon he was towering over me and went for a bit at my neck. I barely dodged it. On instinct, I wrapped my front paws around his neck, putting him in a headlock, while by back legs battered at his belly. Then we heard it.

"Stop. The kittypets have proven their worth through battle. The collars that bind them are no more."

I released the tom and rose to my paws. I was exhausted but felt victorious. I shook out the dusty clinging to my pelt as Rusty padded into the sunlight, giving him a fiery glow.

"You two have proven worthy of joining us. From now on, Rusty will now be named Firepaw for his fiery pelt. Meanwhile, Smudge shall receive the name Smudgepaw for his pelt. May you two serve the clan well."

Rusty, no Firepaw, met my eyes with pride glowing within them. I'm sure mine matched his.

"Wow! Longtail may be a new warrior, but you sure showed him what for Firepaw, and did you see Darkstripe go flying? I bet he won't be living that down any time soon." Chattered the familiar Graypaw who seemed to have somehow made instant friends with Firepaw.