Author's Note: I already had this partially written by the time I posted the prologue, so I wanted to kick off the story pretty quickly. This chapter, along with future ones, definitely takes plot points from the original story, although I am amazed at how much it is already diverting when it comes to character personalities and relationships. I am crazy excited to get into this. (:

Warning for this chapter: Description of kitten illness and death.

CHAPTER 1

Time and time again, she had taken criticism for not paying enough attention—for getting lost in her thoughts or merely not listening when others spoke to her. It was an irksome trait, enough so that she herself couldn't blame others for getting annoyed when it reared its ugly head. In most cases it was just that—an annoyance. But in the heat of the moment, it proved much fiercer and more dangerous.

"Great StarClan, Skypaw, you need to focus!"

The blow to the side of her head was unexpected, at least to her, yet when reflecting back on it, she was positive that there had been many different signals that it was coming her way. How she missed all of them entirely was unknown to her, and had she been chatting it up with her fellow apprentices, she knew at least one comment that would pass: "Gee, Skypaw, that's pretty impressive."

No, the sarcasm was not lost on her.

Had she not been training, it would be easy to believe she had just gotten through a vicious fight with a predator; her chest heaved as she stood in a defensive stance, her head pounding from the previous blow and leaving her wishing it had been a mere claw-wound instead. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, and not for the first time she questioned why she never bothered to practice on her own time, if not for the skill, then for the stamina.

Because you thought you could run until you didn't need to anymore.

She hated admitting it. Yes, watch her outrun a pack of wolves with nothing but her own resolve to back her up. She was very confident that was all it would take.

StarClan, her paws hurt just thinking about it.

Staring across the clearing, Skypaw noted that the look in her mentor's eyes was not angry, nor even frustrated—she was surprised to see that it hadn't surpassed pure annoyance just yet. It surprised her, really, and a part of her wondered just what it would take to push him past that point—to make him say yes, that is definitely enough for today.

Boy, did she crave it. The exhaustion in her paws made her ready to throw herself on the ground in mock defeat, claiming mercy so that her muscles could taste the wonderful thing that was rest. She was willing to end it here, say she had made a valiant effort for the day, and return to camp with the promise of doing better tomorrow.

And yet, staring at the tom caked in shadowy black fur before her, she knew well enough that he wouldn't allow her to leave their session after such meager results.

She kicked up dirt as she leaped once more, giving herself no opportunity to think it over. Training often required claws sheathed, but for their more intense training, both of them mutually agreed that unsheathed claws would better simulate a real battle. When Jaggedclaw first brought it up, Skypaw might have guessed that he was hoping for better results by giving her that freedom, but his efforts—if that was the intention—were in vain.

When she latched onto his back, she once again felt her weight turn against her, unable to lighten her grasp enough to get away before her mentor could counter with the drop-and-roll technique.

It came quickly, and she saw it coming in slow motion. She was at least grateful that she avoided getting caught under his weight, but it was quickly followed up with her twisting her front paws as she moved away just in time. As she stumbled away and eventually collapsed into the dirt, she almost wished she had gotten crushed instead.

Okay, the collapse was probably inevitable, but as she lay there huffing with no intention of getting up, she could at least admit that the action was a bit more dramatic than necessary.

Skypaw felt a sharp poke in her side and turned her head slowly, her ears finally pricking as she looked up at the black tom looming over her, his full height making him more look intimidating than she thought capable.

"Nice performance," he commented dryly as he flicked her with his tail, moving a few paces away before shaking out his pelt. As she moved to her paws, she resisted the urge to spit as the dirt from his fur decided to coat hers instead. Anything to avoid making eye contact with Jaggedclaw's fierce amber gaze.

"Half a moon, Skypaw. That's how long we've been at this," he began, with Skypaw reaching a paw up to flick the dirt away from her chest. "You keep putting your weight into one side and holding it; you need to be prepared to move in the most optimal direction. You need to keep yourself balanced."

"I know, I know," she finally groaned, scratching her claws in the dirt as she shuffled her paws where she stood. She had heard it enough for it to be on repeat in her head: balance. Watch your footing. Be ready to move at a moment's notice. Again and again, there it was, yet her body seemed to want to do the opposite—in Jaggedclaw's words…

"You attack with full commitment," he suddenly said, the only real nice—or even neutral—comment he had said all day. "You throw yourself into the fray—which, in many cases, will get you results in one way or another. But that's not to say they'll all be good results."

It was the first time he had said such a thing, which caught Skypaw off guard. What he was saying was clear as day—she needed to stop and think instead of acting right away. Sane advice, she figured, although in some cases she didn't know if it was really necessary. As much as she might like to take his advice while training, she wasn't quite sure that saying it out loud made any real difference.

It was all so tedious, and she was tired. Behind her dramatics she was incredibly frustrated, not being able to manage a move that two of her denmates—while two moons older—had already mastered. She should have been much further ahead than she was, yet for some reason, she was struggling with one of the most basic techniques. At this point, Larksplash's kits would catch up before she managed it.

There were two parts of her that fought for dominance—the one that wished for nothing more than to move on, learn something new, but it was clear by his adamance that Jaggedclaw would not move on to anything else until she improved in this area. The other part of her was stubborn—admitting defeat to something so trivial would be mousebrained. She could only imagine the snickers she would receive from Mudwhisker, or the fun that would be poked at her by Wrenpaw.

"Whatever," she mumbled to herself, though she was sure Jaggedclaw would be able to hear. "I'll get it right this time."

Jaggedclaw, however, wasted no more time and turned away. "Actually," he stated, "I think it's about time we finished for the day."

The words took a moment to sink in, but when they did, Skypaw felt whatever energy she had remaining slip from her paws like a light breeze. They had trained for most of the morning, part of it to do with hunting, but she still felt like she wasn't any closer to achieving what they really came out here to do. She wondered briefly if Jaggedclaw was growing so impatient that spending any further time attempting the move would make him lash out.

Her ears suddenly flattened against her head, unwilling to entertain such a thought. She didn't like the idea that her mentor would just… give up on her. Her claws dug into the dirt one more.

It seemed to have gotten Jaggedclaw's attention, though, as the tom looked back at her with a much softer expression than he had moments before. "Don't be too hard on yourself—some things are just harder than others. You'll get it, Skypaw. We just have to find a method that works for you."

It was the most basic reassurance he could give, and unfortunately, it didn't do much to appease her mind. They were the same words her mother gave when she had similar problems, and she had yet to get an answer to any of them. She didn't seem to be getting her anywhere, and that elusive "method" had yet to show its face.

"Chin up," Jaggedclaw ordered, and while his tone was light, Skypaw certainly took it as seriously as any command and lifted her head. "Your patience is admirable, giving the circumstances. I had far less of it as an apprentice, and a much more stubborn streak."

Skypaw didn't have much of an issue believing him, but when a smile slowly formed on his lips, she found herself surprised.

"Don't believe everything you hear," he said slowly. "I certainly wasn't a go-getter, and Hollowstripe definitely wasn't going to wait around for me to be ready. I came home with bruises more often than not. We were certainly a pair."

Skypaw suddenly coughed, not quite able to hide the laugh that escaped from her. Even if she managed it, her cheeky smile definitely gave her away as she thought about her mentor as a young apprentice. It wasn't the first time she had heard about it—the elders spoke plenty about how much of a nuisance Jaggedclaw was in those younger moons, contrasting greatly from his "no nonsense" attitude he had now. In Skypaw's opinion, it was all a front—just an attempt to make himself look more mature to make up for those turbulent moons.

It wasn't just those stories that amused her, though—the image of Jaggedclaw stomping his paw in pure frustration was what ultimately made her snort with laughter.

"Find something funny?" Jaggedclaw asked, lifting a brow while his lips curled in a tight smile. It appeared that he couldn't quite escape his past tendences, try as he might to make himself look different. The teasing nature in his eyes gave it all away.

"I'm just…" Skypaw laughed, taking in a breath, "…picturing Hollowstripe smacking you over the head for messing around. Did you ever take anything seriously?"

"Oh, I took everything seriously," Jaggedclaw went on, finally sitting when it was clear that their training for the day was complete. "Too seriously. I didn't know how to sit back and simply learn. I wanted to try everything right away—learn on the job, so they say. It worked for me, but not so much for Hollowstripe."

Skypaw snickered again, tilting her head to the side. "So how often did the two of you argue, then?"

"Often," Jaggedclaw said without pause, flicking away some dirt between his claws.

"I bet he got frustrated a lot," Skypaw commented, earning a light-hearted glare from her mentor.

"Definitely not as good of a teacher as me," he claimed, observing his own claws long enough for Skypaw to question whether he was being sarcastic or completely serious. Not many cats she knew would be so openly arrogant, but Jaggedclaw could definitely be an odd one at times.

Ultimately, his expression flattened and she came to realize the lack of seriousness in his words. "But he knew a lot, and wasn't going to rush through anything. It took me at least a moon before I finally started to think with my brain instead of my claws. We had very different views."

"Apparently," Skypaw muttered before she could stop herself, earning a flick on the ear herself.

"We didn't get along much, but I respected him," Jaggedclaw concluded. "And he had a good point—I was trying to do everything at once before even attempting anything for the first time."

"Is there supposed to be a lesson in all of this?" Skypaw asked finally, not entirely sure of the point he was trying to make, but knowing it had to connect to something—otherwise Jaggedclaw had just talked her ear off to kill time.

"The lesson—" he began as he stood back up, "—is that I was a mouse-brain, and I think you might be one, too."

Skypaw gaped at him, not quite expecting him to be that blunt. But then again, why wouldn't he be? He certainly wasn't shy about criticizing her before.

"Don't give me that look," the black tom said, flicking his tail for her to follow. "I wanted to just do things immediately with no consequence or thought to how. I really thought I knew what was best for me."

There was little silence before Skypaw cut in, "I take it you didn't really?"

A long pause, and then, "Like I said, I was a mouse-brain."

It was such a silly statement, but one that didn't prompt any response from her. In fact, she felt almost uncomfortable at how he said it—almost like she didn't exist, or that he was talking to a younger version of himself. She had been training for two moons, but she knew that there was still much to do.

Their walk back to camp continued on in silence as Skypaw's mind drifted back to the actual training. Physically, she wasn't sure what she could change, as she seemed to follow instinct above all when acting out the techniques she was taught. Every time she told herself she would do something specifically, her paws had other plans, and it all led to the same place… the dirt.

And so, she needed to tackle the issue in a different way. She would have asked Jaggedclaw his opinion, but they had done this dance too many times by now, and she knew it was growing tiresome to more than just her. She wasn't going to force her mentor to live in purgatory as she failed time and time again to master a simple move. That was just… embarrassing.

"You're awfully quiet," Jaggedclaw suddenly remarked, lifting up some leaves from a bush from his tail to allow her through.

"I'm thinking," she said suddenly, wishing that it hadn't come out as sharp as it had. She wasn't upset with him, not really—she was upset that she could see no win in sight, no way for her to proceed that wasn't just her repeating everything all over again.

"Hm," Jaggedclaw grunting, and when they moved through another bush, Skypaw wasn't prepared for him to let it drop so quickly, allowing it to smack her in the face and knock her back with the force of a cat's paw.

"Hey!" she snapped, earning a short but earnest laugh from her mentor. She shook out her fur, the stinging sensation providing a not-so-welcome distraction to her thoughts.

"You're overthinking, and that's the problem. Putting all your effort into one thing and one thing only." Skypaw didn't respond right away, and so he continued. "My point is that what you are doing right now isn't working, but you also haven't learned everything you have to learn yet. Neither have I."

He leaped over a large boulder, and Skypaw was grateful there was no way for him to knock her down this time.

The lack of response seemed to prompt him further, and he continued, "I've already told you you'll learn at your own pace. You're tired of hearing it, I get it. But for StarClan's sake, Skypaw, you could at least focus and act like you want it."

The statement was so random that it nearly made her stop, letting the words roll around in her head for no more than a moment before she was picking up her pace to walk beside him, her pawsteps heavy but her motions purposeful.

"I need to get this right," she said finally. "I don't want to take another moon before I'm on the same level as a brand-new apprentice." How far ahead were the other apprentices? Had Snowpaw already mastered the move? Was he that much closer to becoming a warrior? The thought scared her, and she looked at Jaggedclaw almost desperately. "You'll get me there, right?"

Jaggedclaw grunted again, but more in agreement than acknowledgement like before. "I like to think so," he said, and though casual, Skypaw knew he meant every word. "You won't be held back while everyone else gets their warrior names. I know well enough what that'll mean for you, and certainly what it'll mean for me."

Of course. Skypaw's failure wouldn't mean just being held back—it would mean that Jaggedclaw's mentoring skills would be put into question, something that would inevitably lead to Silentstar taking notice. Being noticed by the Clan leader for anything other than success would be enough for her to hide away in her den for the rest of her moons.

"Take a breath and slow down. You'll pass out at this rate," he said suddenly, pressing his nose into her side as they drew closer to camp. It was meant to be comforting, she assumed, but it didn't feel very reassuring. "We did a lot today. Focus. Figure out whatever it is that's keeping you back. We'll pick up again tomorrow."

It was enough to end the conversation, and the last leg of the trip was quiet outside of Skypaw's heartbeat that gradually went back to normal.

Excited whispers welcomed Skypaw when she and her mentor finally returned to camp, and she briefly noticed Jaggedclaw slipping away towards the nursery before she could even say goodbye. Still, she doubted they would have had much more to say after their conversation, so for now she was content with leaving it at that.

The cats gathered in the camp, though… that was definitely something new.

Thankfully those in the clearing seemed too preoccupied to notice their arrival, and Skypaw was able to escape to the apprentices' den without much issue, although not quite able to form a single thought before she nearly ran straight into another cat.

"Woah, Skypaw!" Wrenpaw began dramatically. "Slow down a bit. You're not on fire, are you?"

Looking upon her friend, Skypaw noticed that she looked more… well, clean than usual. Her tabby and white pelt was smoothed down and her paws were pure white, unmarred by the dirt that caked Skypaw's own paws from the training hollow. Without much thought, Skypaw realized that the she-cat hadn't gone out training today.

Lucky.

"What did I miss?" Skypaw asked, ignoring Wrenpaw's initial question and choosing to sit beside her instead as she got to work cleaning her paws. She definitely looked a wreck compared to her friend. "Not a surprise Gathering, is it?"

Wrenpaw yawned loudly, stretching out her forepaws before responding, "Apprentice ceremony."

Apprentice ceremony? Skypaw blinked, her mind drawing a blank for a few seconds before it finally settled on one thought.

Ah, Whitekit.

She hadn't thought about the kit right away, although it definitely made sense considering the crowd gathering outside. A ceremony in any sense was considered an event to be celebrated, especially one involving the promotion of their members. But this one in particular was differently, and she was starting to realize just why.

Whitekit hadn't been Clan-born—neither had her mother nor her aunt, in fact. An outsider, Ember, had brought Whitekit and her other kit, Lion, into the Clan just shortly before Skypaw's third moon. Her sister, Breeze, had accompanied her, but it certainly wasn't for the fame and honor of being a Clan cat.

Ember's kit was dying.

Lion, nearly half the size of his littermate, lay limp in Ember's jaws as she begged for help—for anything, as long as it could keep her kit alive. Only from whispers between the warriors had Skypaw gotten the story that had followed—that the tiny kit had struggled since birth, rarely putting on weight and having little energy despite his willingness to eat and interact with his family.

With the knowledge of herbs that the Clans had, Ember was smart to come to them.

Several times Lion had bounced back, brought on like a wave after the herbs took effect. He was much like a normal kit for that time—bouncing around, happy and ready to play with his sibling despite the obvious size difference, much like the mighty creature he was named for.

At night, it was an entirely different story.

Someone was awake at all times, ready to feed Lion or shove herbs into his throat should he suddenly crash from StarClan knows what. Bristlefur, while having dealt with something like this once before, could not give a name for what ailment took over the small kit's body—an ailment that would allow him to happily run around without a care before suddenly losing all ability to function just like that.

Night after night, Skykit had watched from her nest as either Ember, Breeze, or Bristlefur sat in the den, doing little more than watch as the rest of the Clan slumbered. It was a painful sight to watch when little Lion suddenly went limp, gasping for breath like it had all been stolen away.

Night after night.

Early one morning, they had awoken to find him in a similar state—except now, he barely swallowed the prey and herbs he was force-fed. He barely let out a breath when pushing against his chest. And laying against his mother's embrace, the only thing he was able to do was watch her with the fascination of a kit who had never quite seen the world before. It was, truly, the first time he had seen it.

That morning, Lion had become Lionkit—a true Clan cat.

And then he was gone.

Skypaw shivered, prompting Wrenpaw to bump her shoulder, her thoughts probably leading to the same place. Wrenpaw had been in her fifth moon then, spending much less time in the nursery, but she knew of the events just as well as Skypaw did—that was to say, as much as other cats were willing to speak of it.

Ember and Breeze had become warriors shortly after, gaining the names Embercloud and Quickbreeze, having worked and bled for the Clan as much as any other Clan-born cat. With that ceremony came one to welcome Lionkit as a true member of AspenClan, despite him not being there to see it. Cats grieved alongside them, as though Lionkit had truly been one of their own. It was only right.

"It's something good," Wrenpaw finally said, leaving the rest to thoughts as Skypaw merely nodded as the reality settled upon her. The other apprentice then smiled—a great, big smile that was both half-hearted yet reassuring at the same time. "As long as you're able to scoot your nest to make room, of course. Can't say I'm giving up any of my well-earned space."

Looking outside the den, Skypaw felt some of the tension leave her body. She knew that it was good. This was how it was meant to be.

"I'm not the one who tosses and turns at night," Skypaw pointed out, her mind finally returning to the present. "Brackenpaw and Snowpaw are just too nice to say anything about it."

Skypaw let out a long breath then, finding that despite her low mood, she could at least rely on Wrenpaw to have something to say that would make the day that much easier to bear. Despite her small annoyances, she was at least someone familiar that she could be with.

Glancing around then, she realized then that Brackenpaw and Snowpaw's scents were fairly stale, indicating that they hadn't been there for some time. It was unusual, only one apprentice being left back at camp while the others completed their duties.

Seemingly noticing her confusion, Wrenpaw shrugged. "They went out for training together earlier. They're probably due back soon."

Skypaw wondered briefly if she would have the chance to speak with either of them before the meeting started. Her brother would certainly sympathize with her rough day, giving her the physical comfort that he was always able to with just a kind smile and the warmth of his pelt. Brackenpaw would undoubtedly give her a cheeky shove, telling her that she better work harder if she wanted to ever get on his level.

The thoughts were reassuring, although the reality would most likely have to wait. No sooner had she thought it did she notice Silentstar leaving his den and climbing the stones in the center of the camp, a sign that the meeting was about to begin.

They would have to make time and catch up later.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Highstone for a Clan meeting!"

Having already been standing, she moved to approach Silentstar almost immediately, as did those who had yet to leave their dens. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that Wrenpaw wasn't actually following her, rather choosing to sit in the same spot. If the she-cat hadn't blinked, Skypaw would have assumed she had fallen asleep where she sat, with her head drooping and her eyes locked on her paws.

Had Wrenpaw heard the call, or was she being purposely stubborn about wanting to stay put? That was one of her "best" qualities, after all—according to Wrenpaw, at least.

Furrowing her brow, Skypaw turned back to her. "You coming?" she asked pointedly, flicking her tail behind her. "Or you think you might squeeze in a quick nap?"

Looking closer, Skypaw saw that the she-cat did look pretty tired, but it wasn't like her to want to miss such an event. It honestly concerned her—if she hadn't been training, then why was she tired enough to fall asleep on her feet? She really did wonder, although figured that Wrenpaw had her reasons, and if she was being honest, they were probably better left unsead.

Wrenpaw didn't answer right away, and feeling some sort of emotion related to concerned, Skypaw quickly followed up with, "If you're really that tired, you can go back in the den. I don't think it'll take that long."

Skypaw was growing pretty tempted to join her, if she was being honest. While watching a ceremony could be interesting, her own nest was growing more and more attractive by the second, with her paws starting to feel like large stones the longer she stood.

"Yeah, you wish," Wrenpaw finally said, lifting herself to her feet.

Whether that meant she was taking her suggestion seriously or not was unknown to her. Skypaw was ready to question her further, but Wrenpaw didn't look like she was going to speak much more—a great tragedy that Skypaw was ready to comment on, but definitely not at that current moment. She'd rather avoid a swipe across the ear. Perhaps she shouldn't have opened her mouth.

They didn't have far to go, although Skypaw did debate on whether she wished to be closer to see more or farther away as to not draw excess attention. She noticed Jaggedclaw on the other side of the clearing beside Larksplash, and her mother Hailcreek smiling at her not far off from them.

Skypaw smiled back, only interrupted when Wrenpaw's shoulder roughly shoved hers, forcing her to step to the side to make room for her. "You know, you could have just asked me to move," she said, rolling her shoulder and making a face.

Wrenpaw gave no more than a shrug as Skypaw chose to move her gaze towards the Highstone—not just to the cat atop it, but the one sitting before it.

Whitekit was an unusual looking cat, with very light fur that could pass as white tied with tabby stripes that dotted her face and bright, gleaming blue eyes. She was quite small, in Skypaw's opinion, but it was also easy to assume they had all been around that size when they were being apprenticed. Briefly, she also noticed Embercloud and Quickbreeze standing off to the side, their gazes prideful.

"We are coming together to see one of our Clanmates take the step forward into warriorhood," Silentstar began, prompting Skypaw to turn her head back to him. The whole Clan began to quiet down now, their attention being brought to the small she-cat who suddenly looked far more nervous than she had before. Had Skypaw looked that nervous at her own ceremony? She hoped not.

Silentstar's eyes were gentle, and Skypaw admired the tone in which he spoke. "But before that, we will honor the one who could not be here to see this day. While Lionkit was not Clan-born, he would have been a loyal warrior, with a heart strong enough to rival even the fiercest of cats."

The cats in the clearing were nearly silent now, some of them dipping their heads in acknowledgement before Silentstar continued. "Whitekit, I know you still hold your brother close to you—and so, I hope he is able to witness you today. You have reached the age of six moons, and I am proud to present you as an apprentice of AspenClan. From this day onward, I name you Whitepaw."

Skypaw's eyes traveled around the clearing, watching as the cats gathered began to call out for the new apprentice. Jaggedclaw was notably quiet, although Skypaw did see him dip his head in acknowledgement in the direction of the new apprentice.

StarClan's kits, for how much he talked my ear off earlier...

It was an annoying thought, one offset by the fact that when she made eye contact with him, he sent her a quick, uncharacteristic wink.

She felt herself grow warm with embarrassment, having just been caught staring. Skypaw turned herself around quickly enough to catch Silentstar's next words.

"Mudwhisker."

The tom lifted his head, a sly grin slowly appearing on his face. Oh no.

"You are ready to take on an apprentice. You are young, but have shown yourself to be honest and independent. I expect you to pass on all you know to Whitepaw."

If that mouse-brain was getting an apprentice, Skypaw wasn't sure how well Whitepaw would do after all. The tom—alongside his brother, Duskleap—were the youngest warriors in the Clan, and it was well-known that Duskleap's responsible and loyal qualities didn't quite rub off on his brother. In fact, if Skypaw didn't know it, she would have guessed that Mudwhisker and Wrenpaw were the same cat.

The smug grin he had was only slightly offset by the true excitement Skypaw could see in him, if his quivering paws and flicking tail were any indication. Whitepaw didn't seem to know nor care about Mudwhisker's qualities as a mentor, whatever they may be, and slowly reached up to touch noses with the tom when prompted.

She heard Wrenpaw yawn loudly beside her, and Skypaw put a paw on her shoulder, pushing the annoyance away. "How rough this must have been on you," Skypaw drawled.

Wrenpaw scoffed. "If you did half as much as I did, you'd be grateful for the rest time as well."

While ahead of her in training, Skypaw couldn't imagine Wrenpaw's days were much different than hers. Then again, with a cat like Scorchtooth as a mentor, Skypaw knew that getting away with much of anything was unlikely. Suddenly, she didn't feel so much like teasing the she-cat. Scorchtooth would probably work her to the bone given half the chance.

Wrenpaw departed without much fanfare, and Skypaw followed instinctively, assuming that the new apprentice was bound to be following her mentor around for now—at least until they settled down for the night. The rest of the Clan seemed to have the same idea, as most of them dismissed themselves to attend to the rest of their duties.

With the sun setting, Skypaw couldn't imagine it would be long, and with the day she had had, she couldn't argue the idea of heading to her nest just a bit early.

Her ears suddenly pricked, though, the sounds of approaching cats keeping her from reaching for her nest so quickly.

Brackenpaw's tabby pelt was the first thing she saw as the patrol entered the camp, and his appearance certainly wasn't what she considered "normal." He looked considerably better when he made eye contact with her, although his glance backward was filled with uncertainty and weariness as he broke away from his mentor and the others shortly after entering.

"Brackenpaw, what's going on?" Skypaw asked, paws moving her forward without much thought.

"Well, hello to you, too," he began with a small smile, although it was tight and appeared more forced than usual. Skypaw didn't say anything more before Brackenpaw let out a sigh.

"RavenClan," he said, lowering his voice as they watched the others pad farther into camp—presumably to give report to Silentstar. "We were training and decided to patrol the border before coming back. RavenClan was there."

Skypaw did not have to ask any more. If RavenClan was there, they were probably not happy, and if RavenClan was unhappy, that spelled bad news for them.

As Brackenpaw glanced back again, Skypaw knew this wasn't just a little border scuffle, and as he led her back towards the apprentices' den, she knew the gossip that would follow would undoubtedly keep them up for the night.