A/N - Hey folks! I split this chapter up to ensure I get something out for this fic's first birthday! :D

Well that, and also because I want this fic to get updated more often. There are either 4k word chapters every 2+ weeks or 7k word chapters every 3+ weeks. There doesn't seem to be much variation tbh.

I don't set deadlines for chapters, but I did with this one. I gave myself a lot of time, but I still had to rush to finish it. Ironically, I think it takes longer for me to release a chapter with a deadline than one where I just write when I want. Weird how that works…

Disclaimer: Warriors is owned by Erin Hunter/HarperCollins Publishers LLC

…

The Apothecary

…

Fireheart did not know what to expect upon his return to ThunderClan. The fear of showing his scars to the clan for the first time weighed heavily upon him despite Yellowfang telling him not to worry. He knew to expect the worst and held on to this expectation once he made it back to ThunderClan.

However, to his surprise, the clan had seemed mostly uninterested.

And he didn't know how to feel about that. Fireheart had gotten many, many strange looks, of course, but to his knowledge, that was the worst of it.

It surprised him, and also gave him a bit of relief. But at the same time, it made him disappointed.

His clanmates grew less concerned about him by the day, and it was made clear to him then more than ever. Even if Fireheart walked into camp with his head missing, these cats simply would've shrugged.

Fireheart did not stick around that night. It was well past dusk when he and Yellowfang returned to ThunderClan. There wasn't much left of the day, so Fireheart just went to rest in his clan's medicine den.

But the tom did not sleep. All night, he stayed awake, pondering about the dream he had. He was so enraptured with it that not once did he even feel the slightest desire to sleep - the prospect of having another dream too soon also aiding this.

Fireheart thought about it for hours, taking everything the strange entity said to heart. He truly believed they weren't from StarClan, but even then, they had such a similar aura. That place, and that cat, had to be connected to StarClan somehow, but Fireheart would have to speak with them again if he were to learn any more; He came to that same notion regarding just about every other piece of information he'd conglomerated.

And before he knew it, the night had come and gone.

Now, the sun sat high in the sky as Fireheart remained in the medicine den, watching his clanmates as they passed by. His attention drifted onto them once they started to wake. Despite their reactions last night, Fireheart still was feeling self-conscious about his face - he didn't want anyone to approach him unless he could prepare.

Sometimes cats would look his way, and when that happened, Fireheart ducked his head, trying to avoid their gaze. He didn't care if he appeared weak at the moment, he was not comfortable with his new look yet.

Shielding his face from another pair of degrading looks, Fireheart sighed.

I wish Yellowfang would come back already.

The old medicine cat had left early for her herb collecting today. Fireheart was not to help her; not after his incident was he allowed to help anyone for at least a day.

Internally, Fireheart was grateful, as it meant he wouldn't have to show his face to anyone. Although at the same time, it also meant he was stuck listening to everything that went on within the camp.

And at this particular moment, unfortunately, that happened to be a heated dispute between Darkstripe and Sandstorm, one that Fireheart couldn't help but hear a few details about despite trying not to listen in.

He could see them from where he sat in the medicine den, shooting angry looks at each other. They sat near the gorse tunnel - where they both had appeared from before they started arguing - growling about how their way of teaching the apprentices was better than the other. That was the only detail Fireheart was able to gather about their argument since listening to it just dampened his mood.

Their squabble made him lash his tail. Those two have been at it for a while now. He grimaced. Things have just been tense as of late, I suppose.

Being confined to the camp so often, Fireheart eventually learned how to determine the mood of his clan just from a feeling in the air. Ever since the last Gathering, he determined, the clan had become a lot more stressed. Arguments like the one between Sandstorm and Darkstripe were quickly becoming more common.

At least I'm not the center of it this time. He thought gratefully.

Hearing a couple of new voices, Fireheart sent his gaze back over to the pair. He watched as a group of cats emerged from the gorse tunnel. Whitestorm and Brightpaw came through first, flanked by several other mentors and apprentices.

Fireheart was quick to notice how most of them were limping, suddenly growing his suspicion.

Injuries. He observed. Maybe that's what Sandstorm is mad about?

Whitestorm could be seen mewling something to his apprentice, making Brightpaw flash her eyes at him. Whitestorm simply nodded his head, much to her dismay.

Brightpaw turned away from him, and after a moment, Fireheart had become astutely aware of how the apprentice seemed to be padding towards his den.

Fireheart felt his heart suddenly beat faster as she approached, quickly raising from his spot to dip behind the drapes of lichen.

Wait a second. Why is she coming here? He thought, flustered. Yellowfang isn't here to help!

After only a second's preparation, Fireheart soon found himself meeting the young she-cat face to face, as Brightpaw slipped into the den.

She recoiled slightly upon seeing Fireheart - as if she never expected him to be here.

The two stared at each other for a moment, before Fireheart cleared his throat.

"Brightpaw," he addressed the she-cat, making her blink out of her stupor.

"H-hi."

Fireheart could see her hackles were slightly raised, but what alarmed him more was the large number of thorns lining her orange and white fur.

He widened his eyes once he realized it.

"What happened?" Fireheart said in a worried tone. He must've sounded more concerned than necessary, as Brightpaw quickly took a step back.

"Nothing!" She said before taking a look around the den. "Do you, uh- know if Yellowfang is here?"

"She left to gather herbs a while ago," Fireheart said to her with a look of concern. "Did you come here for help?"

Brightpaw paid the question no mind, continuing to look around. She sighed before looking away toward the entrance, still avoiding his gaze.

"Nevermind. I'll just go find her-er-" She stuttered violently after taking a step, pain seemingly flooding through her limbs. "Mm-myself."

Fireheart watched her, not knowing how to feel. He knew Brightpaw didn't want to be around him, but clearly, he was not her biggest problem at the moment.

"You're hurt, Brightpaw," Fireheart stated to the apprentice, who still struggled to find her footing.

She sighed. "I'm… aware."

Fireheart narrowed his eyes, feebly attempting to get through to the young she-cat.

"You shouldn't be walking around right now," he said. She didn't acknowledge him, instead grunting through the pain as she stood up again. This time, she looked much more able as she made for the exit, making Fireheart panic. The apprentice would have made it out if he hadn't reacted.

"Wait!"

Brightpaw jolted to a halt, looking around anxiously toward him. The ginger tom flicked his ears, realizing she was actually listening to him.

"I can help you! I know how to take care of thorns," he said. It was true, Yellowfang had taught him how to care for thorns using herbs, something most other cats wouldn't know.

"Oh," Brightpaw murmured a response. "No, thanks."

Fireheart frowned, feeling a sudden sense of empathy that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Brightpaw never did anything that made him displeased before - she was still the same apprentice from moons ago, from what he could tell. Seeing her refuse his help, despite having an urgent need for it, hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

"Brightpaw, you're clearly in pain right now. If you wait for Yellowfang, then you may get infected or worse."

He looked at her almost pleadingly. It was very rare that Fireheart got to use any of his medical knowledge, as most cats wouldn't let him. He needed to prove he could be useful somehow.

"Please? I want to help."

For a time, Brightpaw said nothing, appearing to at least give his offer some kind of consideration. She shuffled her paws, likely feeling small waves of pain again - which ultimately seemed to sway her decision, as the she-cat suddenly turned away from the den's exit and crept hesitantly towards Fireheart in the center of the clearing.

Seeing this, Fireheart felt his heart leap. He jumped to life with a determined glare, which may have accidentally startled Brightpaw.

"Just wait here," was all he said to her before turning around, quickly shuffling through the medicine den's storage to find whatever he needed to help.

First Stormkit, now Brightpaw. What is it with cats and thorns? Fireheart pondered to himself, picking through piles of sundry leaves. It looks like she rolled around in a bush!

Finally, he came across a small stash of yellow flowers. He grabbed them with a small determined grunt.

I need to tell Yellowfang how unorganized this place is when she gets back. He noted to himself. But for now, I just hope Brightpaw can bear me enough to listen.

To his pleasure, Brightpaw was still there when he looked back, a curious yet wary expression donning her face. Fireheart slowly worked his way over and pushed the small yellow flowers toward her. Brightpaw squinted at them as Fireheart explained.

"These are dandelion leaves. You may chew them to ease your pain."

Brightpaw wore a tentative look, which Fireheart also could say he'd been expecting. No warrior liked dealing with herbs, especially when a cat as unpopular as Fireheart handed them to you. He grew a bit hopeful when Brightpaw didn't spurn them away immediately.

"I know. I am not expecting you to trust me, so I won't force you to eat them," he said before looking at her. "I'm going to inspect your fur now if that's all right."

He could see Brightpaw scrunch up a bit, but she did not say anything against it. He figured she was still rather uncomfortable, seeing her fidget once or twice since sitting down.

Seeing how Brightpaw was anxious, Fireheart put a tip Yellowfang had given him once into use.

'If a cat's nervous, then just tell them what you're going to do. No matter if it's sniffing them, giving them herbs, or breaking every bone in their body- it calms them down somewhat when you're transparent.'

As usual, it seemed Yellowfang was correct.

Taking his time and moving slowly, Fireheart moved to find every thorn in her fur, making sure not to get too comfortable with sniffing her pelt. He could visibly see the apprentice tense up with each thorn he snuffed out, but still, he pressed on. Fireheart couldn't wait for her to grow comfortable - that would take too long. He needed to check her over as quickly as possible, for both their sakes.

He noticed, when he looked back after a minute, that small bits of dandelion appeared to be missing. Brightpaw must've eaten them, determining they weren't poisoned or anything of the sort.

"Are the herbs helping?" he asked. Brightpaw didn't look back, but she did give a feeble nod, confirming she'd eaten them. Fireheart mewled reassuringly. "That's good."

After a few more seconds of nosing around, Fireheart looked back at her, feeling her tense muscles weren't loosening up at all.

"I'm almost done," he told her, sounding a little sympathetic. "I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable."

Brightpaw seemed surprised to hear this, as she turned to look at him.

"It's-... okay," she said, looking down again after making eye contact. Fireheart just nodded, brushing off the fact she couldn't look him in the eye.

Eventually, he would loop around to her front, where he flashed a look of concern as he took a closer look. Her forelimbs were covered with scratches alongside a few thorns, each looking fresh. How he failed to notice them earlier, Fireheart did not know.

He was about to ask where those injuries came from, but then he noticed a small burr stick in her paw.

"Were you ever shown how to pull a thorn from your paw?"

Brightpaw looked down, giving the thorn a look of irritation before shaking her head. Fireheart nodded, sitting down.

"Well, it's simple. Just use your teeth, and pull it out slowly. You want to be careful not to slip and make it worse." He stuck out his paw. "May I see it?"

Brightpaw did not object as she offered him her paw, though her fur remained a bit bristled. Fireheart bent down, using only his teeth to slowly remove the thorn. Brightpaw fidgeted a small bit from it, but Fireheart remained calm. It was important - Yellowfang also once told him - that he always remained calm, for it also helps calm a patient's nerves.

After a moment, he successfully removed the thorn, spitting it away from them.

"See?"

Brightpaw said nothing, retracting her paw rather briskly, but still nodded. Fireheart felt disappointed, seeing she still refused to look at him, but brushed it off nonetheless.

"Alright," he began. "I don't smell any infection, luckily." Fireheart then shifted his attention to her forelimbs. "Although, those scratch marks look rather new."

Brightpaw pinned her ears, making Fireheart hesitant to press on. Just like with any injury, though, this needed to be addressed

"Have these been treated before?" he asked. Brightpaw frowned, looking over the scratch wounds herself.

"You're right; they're new," she responded.

"Then, I can see why Whitestorm sent you here," Fireheart looked at her. "I assume you don't want to tell me how you got these either?"

"Just training! Okay?"

Fireheart widened his eyes, causing Brightpaw to look away sheepishly.

"Sorry. It's-... Well, it's just that Tigerstar said we were not supposed to talk to you," she paused. "Ever."

Hearing that put Fireheart off for a second, but he quickly regained his composure.

"I'm not surprised," he stated. That was the reason she was staying quiet this whole time? She must be pretty loyal. He thought. A shame it's horribly misplaced.

"Well, uhm-"

Fireheart looked back as she started again. Brightpaw licked the fur around her injuries, speaking intermittently. "I got these just earlier today- sparring with Swiftpaw- and we accidentally, uh… fell into a thorn bush."

"Even still," Fireheart interrupted, looking at her scratch marks questionably. "Apprentices shouldn't be this injured from mere sparring."

"Well, Darkstripe says it's okay to get injured. It makes you tougher," she explained, albeit timidly. "Besides, Swiftpaw and I were claw-fighting, so I was bound to get-"

"Claw-fighting?" Fireheart interrupted. "You were using your claws against each other?"

She gave Fireheart a strange look.

"Is that a problem?"

Fireheart frowned. Didn't Brightpaw realize how bad of an idea claw-fighting was? He knew Brokenstar had used such a technique when he ruled over ShadowClan, and his warriors were all the worst from it. Brightpaw should know - she was kept as their prisoner!

"Brightpaw, that's absurd," Fireheart relayed his opinion to her. However, he was only met with a muddled stare.

"No? It helps us grow stronger.".

"By tearing each other apart?" Fireheart spoke, in awe. "Who came up with this? They're completely inept at training!"

"Darkstripe did, and he's not inept! He's a good warrior, unlike you." Brightpaw glared at him, spitting her words. Fireheart frowned again, and it seemed Brightpaw instantly regretted her words, for she soon backed off.

"Sorry," she murmured, looking away. "I-... thought it was strange at first, too. But I'm just an apprentice. What do I know?" She sighed. "Look, I know you're a bad cat and all, but-" she began, but stopped again. Fireheart tilted his head, curious as to where she was going with this.

However, he was only given a disappointed huff.

"Nevermind. Thanks for helping. I… s-should leave now"

Brightpaw quickly stood up, making for the entrance as Fireheart watched, perplexed.

That look in her eyes. Fireheart noticed a look of sympathy from Brightpaw as she stood up - one that looked an awful lot like the one her sister, Cinderpaw, had given him a few times.

It was clear to Fireheart that she did not think of him as lowly as the others, despite holding some resentment. It seemed Brightpaw was like her mentor in that regard - Whitestorm could never bring himself to hate anybody.

"Hey."

Fireheart perked his ears seeing Brightpaw had stopped just before the exit.

"Uh, I'm sorry if this is a rude question, but-" She pointed a paw at her face, referencing her muzzle. "Does that… hurt?"

Fireheart blinked. "What?"

"Your face… Your scars."

"...Oh." Fireheart looked away, suddenly self-conscious of his appearance. Now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. "No, not anymore really."

He paused for a moment, staring at the wall.

"The worst part is the looks I get."

Brightpaw made a noise, sounding as if she agreed with him.

"I don't think any cat deserves that-"

"Brightpaw, there you are!" A loud voice suddenly made both of them whip their heads around.

Dustpelt could be seen sticking his head into the den, glaring at the apprentice, unamused.

"Did you find Yellowfang? Whitestorm said he sent you to find her."

Brightpaw appeared speechless for a moment.

"N-no. It seems she's not in this den. Sorry," she told him, as he snorted.

"Then stay close," he advised, shooting a look at Fireheart. "We'll both just have to find her before you get sick."

"But I feel fine, Dustpelt!" Brightpaw quickly interjected. "I don't need to see Yellowfang."

"Oh? Alright, great," he commented, lashing his tail. "So get a move on! Tigerstar is back and wants to see how you all are improving. Whitestorm is probably waiting for you, too."

"Okay, I got it," Brightpaw huffed, shuffling past him before he could get another word in.

Fireheart watched her leave, feeling only a moment's satisfaction seeing his patient walk away healthy, before returning his gaze to Dustpelt. He was glaring at him crossly, prompting Fireheart to look away.

"You." He heard the older warrior grumble, making him flinch. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, kittypet. I'm well aware of your new look, so there's no point in hiding it."

Fireheart narrowed his eyes, fighting not to roll them. He gave his clanmate a half-glance.

"Is there something you need, Dustpelt?"

The dark brown tom held his look for a moment before turning around, grabbing something behind him. Fireheart watched as a small, rotting shrew suddenly appeared sailing in the air towards him, landing with a soft thump at his paws. He stared at it, hearing Dustpelt snicker.

"Dinner time."

It's midday. Fireheart grimaced, leaning over to give it a sniff. With just a single whiff, Fireheart felt himself reeling back in disgust. It was so foul that he almost didn't realize Dustpelt had begun talking again.

"I was going to bring that to Tigerstar, but I think that's a meal more fit for you instead, wouldn't you agree?"

Fireheart frowned at the tom.

"This… this is crowfood!" He glared accusedly at him. "Where's the scraps?"

"You're lucky you even get scraps. You're lucky we feed you at all!" Dustpelt scolded. "Take it, and don't complain!"

Fireheart glowered at him. He wanted to go off on a tangent, just like Sandstorm and Darkstripe did earlier, but he managed to control himself.

"Fine, then," he said, looking away.

"Oh, that's not all."

Fireheart perked his ears, seeing a new glare being cast upon him that was even colder than before. He watched as Dustpelt leaned closer

"Just between the two of us… I see the way you look at Sandstorm." His tone, alongside his glare, was much more serious than before. "You've spoken to her once or twice, haven't you?"

Fireheart raised a brow, alarmedly. Dustpelt continued with a sneer before he could say anything.

"Don't you dare try to rope her into any of your little schemes, or so help me, I'll put you through way worse than whatever gave you those filthy scars, get it?"

Fireheart stared, hardly intimidated. His threats did not faze him, but nevertheless, Dustpelt's keen eye was something to be worried about.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Was all Fireheart responded with.

Dustpelt observed him for a second longer before huffing.

"For your own sake, I hope so."

With that, he turned to leave. Fireheart kept a hardened gaze on him as he exited, feeling a weight lift off of him once he was gone.

Now alone with his thoughts again, Fireheart couldn't help but notice how little he cared during these confrontations. First with Goldenflower, now with Dustpelt. He didn't care to hear their opinions of him, so it made sense why he didn't take them seriously.

The ginger tom grumbled to himself, flicking the piece of rotting crowfood away.

There's a bigger stick stuck up everyone as of late. He thought with dismay. What was Dustpelt even talking about? Sandstorm was just making a scene, so of course, I was looking at it. Not to mention that it was probably because of Darkstripe making the apprentices claw-fight.

As pangs of hunger rumbled through him, Fireheart thought about it more deeply.

Although, Dustpelt wouldn't be worried unless it was a serious issue. Does he seriously think I'm close to Sandstorm?

Fireheart had no way to prove such a hypothesis; Dustpelt could just be paranoid. Though if he was concerned for Sandstorm's safety, why mention it to the "threat" itself?

The situation only seemed to be growing more confusing, so as a result, Fireheart could only think of one real solution.

That makes two cats I need to talk to as soon as possible.

…

A/N - (Careful now, Brightpaw. Watch what you say about cats with facial injuries xd)

Anyway… Happy first birthday TSoT!

Damn, so within a year, I've written about 110k words of story (plus an 8k word One-Shot) all while dealing with a job, school, other hobbies, minor writer's block here and there… Not bad!

Hopefully, this next year I'll learn to become much more efficient at writing shorter chapters. By this story's second anniversary, we'll probably be very close to the end of Rising Storm! But then we'll have the next two Arcs after that... sheesh... honestly, this fic will probably be about a 5 or 6-year-long endeavor. VERY ambitious, but hey, I can't see much getting in the way of it. Writing takes little to no resources or energy, for the most part!

Alright, the party's over. Moving on:

I like Brightheart's character in the books quite a lot! She's chill like that, so just like with Russetfur, I put her in da story more den others :3

I also forgot Dustpelt existed, so here he is again. His drama with Fireheart is starting earlier than planned for pacing reasons.

...Man, I'm just now realizing how insanely easy it is to forget about characters! I'll have to include Mousefur and Frostfur again… Just throw random cats in at times when casting doesn't matter.