Ashfur bounds rapidly towards the forest, soon crossing the border. As the forest closes in around, the grey tom's speed slowly falters. Any possible line of sight to twoleg-place long gone, by both distance and the dense and wild growth of trees, even now with no more leaves clinging to their branches. The snow crunches under Ashfur's paws as his initially rapid advance slows into barely even a walk, until he stands still entirely. Several heartbeats pass, the warrior standing alone in the woods during the early morning hours, before he lashes out, leaving a claw mark in the bark of a nearby tree. His face contorts into a grimace, as rage and sadness course through him. Cumbersome… Even the warrior that basically volunteered to train him confessed now that he is but a burden at times. Snarling to himself, the blue eyed warrior shakes his head, hooking the claws of his right front paw into the same tree again, digging them deep into the wood. Leave it to a Bloodclan cat to at least have the guts to say aloud what many must be thinking in silence. And Talon would be right. Almost dying like a kit the first time out of the nursery in the snow… No danger, no threat, not starving nor sick, only incompetence, and that almost was his end. Leaning his head against the tall grown plant as he slowly pulls down his paw, his muscles rippling and aching at the effort as the deeply sunk in claws slowly descend down the bark. He breathes deeply, a mild shaking vibrating his knees, trying to hold back tears. Would that be his kin's verdict too? Would his ancestor Thistleclaw deem him a burden as well just a few training sessions in? Would his blood be as lenient as the Bloodclan cat and still honour his word afterwards?

Ashfur hums, the shaking in his legs slowly going away as he regains, bit by bit, composure of himself. Talon still wishes to continue his training. In just two days time. It'd be good to make up for the training they didn't have yesterday and between Bloodclan and the Dark Forest there is no way he'd not grow stronger… as long as both his new mentors decide to keep him around. He huffs and pulls back his paw, the claws making a sound almost like the strike of a woodpecker as they pop out of the gash they carved. Talon didn't need to save him, yet he did. It's not lost yet. This can still work, he can still grow more powerful as a warrior. He can still become worthy, he has to. Taking another deep breath, the cold leafbare air slightly burning inside his lungs, Ashfur tries to rearrange his thoughts. First things first, he'll need to hunt. He must return with prey before the sunrise patrol or another hunter haphazardly can find him, otherwise he'll need to come up with another excuse. His gut feels heavy at the thought. Innocent as it was, the lie about the owl to excuse the wound on his back had made him feel bad enough, he'd not want to repeat that. Lying to his whole clan… what kind of warrior does such a lowly thing? Slowly he gets back into motion, padding on deeper into the forest, keeping his head high, nose in the air, trying to catch any promising scent. A bit of stinging pressure throbs under his right paw, but he choses to ignore it for now. Might be a bit of ice stuck between his pads, it'll melt and go away. Hunting is now more important.

Soon a scent hits his nose that makes his ears perk up. Continuing on, body slowly lowering, steps becoming lighter, more silent, he follows the smell. A blackbird… this could well be a worthwhile catch, the clan would no doubt enjoy a larger bird now. Soon enough, keeping himself close enough to the ground for his belly fur to touch the snow underneath him, he creeps to a thick bush, peering out from between it's branches, his pelt letting him blend in well behind the slightly greyed, sapless branches of the plant. Up on a tree, a low hanging branch, a majestic blackbird rests, beak under it's wing as it prunes itself leisurely. Ashfur observes quietly for a while before carefully slinking behind it's tree, out of sight. Slowly and cautiously he sinks his claws into the bark, pulling himself up on them, rising up along the trunk until he is at the hight of the branch. His ears perked and attentive, he listens for any sign at all that his mark may have noticed his approach as he moves along the tree, peering past the trunk once he can. Nothing, the bird remains, unaware, looking up occasionally from it's pruning before resuming it. Very slowly, Ashfur moves onto the branch, putting down one paw after the other, setting his weight upon it so slowly that no vibration gives him away. His blue eyes fixate on his prey unwaveringly, his muscles buckling for a pounce. A mere two taillengths away now…

Ashfur drops his prey on the freshkill pile, flicking his ear at the sight of it. The clan fares decently well for food still, but leafbare hasn't been going for very long yet either. Every bite of food will be important to Thunderclan before long. He raises his gaze just in time to see the tails of the sunrise patrol disappear through the camp's entrance. He made it back just in time before they left. Good. Beyond the night guard Berrynose, whom is currently retreating towards the warrior den for some rest, no-one knows that he's been out all night. Not that Berrynose would care much beyond making some mousebrained comment even if he wasn't tired out. With a slightly relieved sigh, Ashfur pads towards the apprentice den, his promise to Lionpaw still counting, only to be stopped in his tracks by Brackenfur. The golden brown tom emerges from the apprentice den with Hollypaw right by his side, stopping to give Ashfur an acknowledging nod, but then remain standing as he observes Ashfur's stride. Ashfur tilts his head slightly, unsure what to make of it, stopping before his fellow warrior.

„Everything alright, Ashfur?"

The question catches the blue eyed warrior somewhat off-guard, his tail flicking behind him. There are no signs that something wouldn't be alright, are there? Did he overlook something, some detail that could give away his nightly activities?

„I believe so. Any reason why things wouldn't be alright, Brackenfur?"

The amber eyed mentor looks at Ashfur, his gaze descending to the grey warrior's paws. Hollypaw, chirping a quiet greeting as Ashfur's own gaze briefly moves over her, remains right up by Brackenfur's side, casting glances from time to time back towards the apprentice den.

„You walk with a small limp, Ashfur. The cold crack one of your pads on your hunt?"

Ashfur's eyes open a bit wider. He'd been ignoring the unpleasant feeling under his paw to the point where he barely registered it, but now that the other warrior mentions it, it has yet to fade. Humming and sitting down, Ashfur raises his paw, observing it's underside. A scoff escapes the grey warrior. No piece of ice stuck between his pads, rather a splinter. That's what he gets for picking fights with trees…

„Splinter… probably should have Leafpool take a look at it. As if she doesn't have enough work."

„This IS her work, Ashfur, taking care of things like that. Better get it removed and hope she lets you go for Lionpaw's training. He seems… energetic today"

Narrowly avoiding a loud sigh at that, Ashfur's expression still clearly conveys his reaction to this information, as indicated by a small grin from Brackenfur and an amused chuckle from Hollypaw.

„I see… I did promise further combat training and I will not live it down if I don't deliver. Fine, I'll go by Leafpool first then. Let's hope Lionpaw can muster that much patience at least"

With an acknowledging nod, Ashfur turns, rising back up and beginning on his way to the medicine den, as he finds himself cut off by Brackenfur again.

„Maybe Starclan is trying to tell you to take it easy with your training of Lionpaw, Ashfur…"

The golden-brown warrior's voice is calm, yet in his eyes he holds a clear warning. The memory of Ashfur and Lionpaw's rougher training session a while ago seeming to remain fresh in Brackenfur's mind and he holds no fear to show it. Some of Ashfur's neck fur stands up as the look between the two warriors drags on for a bit. Hollypaw takes several steps back, worry clear in her green eyes as the sudden tension blazes between the two toms. Lionpaw could easily defeat Hollypaw. Lionpaw could defeat any other apprentice already. He asked for rougher training, against Ashfur's council and warning, more than once, and the young tom is stronger for it. Ashfur promised his apprentice to ensure he'd be the strongest in his den. Even reduced as he is, the pride to make his words come true and make the apprentice given into his mentorship great burns within the grey warrior. What gives Brackenfur, a tom who already has everything he could ever ask for, the right to challenge his apprentice's growth? Ashfur takes a breath, his voice as calm and collected as Brackenfur's as he delivers his answer, slowly pushing past the other warrior.

„We shall see what Leafpool says. Until further notice, I'm sure we'll see each other at the mossy clearing, see what our apprentices are capable of."

Fury bubbles under Ashfur's pelt as he pads away from the mentor apprentice duo, trying his best not to let it show, though his neckfur remains somewhat spiked. Lionpaw will be one of the greatest warriors Thunderclan has, Ashfur will make sure of that. He's given his word. That must still be worth something. Quietly grumbling once he is out of immediate earshot of Brackenfur, Ashfur increasingly notices what the other warrior meant earlier, he does drag his front right paw a bit, doesn't put quite as much pressure on it. How annoying. With a small sigh, Ashfur enters the medicine den, the familiar scent of herbs and leaves filling his nostrils, but also something else… a smell even more familiar. The glum light inside the den forces the warrior's eyes to take a moment to adapt.

„…her fur looks so much like his. What if at a Gathering he realises…"

As Ashfur steps deeper into the den, two figures turn their heads to look his way, making him stop on the spot. Both these pairs of eyes, Ashfur would recognise anytime and anywhere, even if his eyes have not yet adapted enough to see the colour of their pelts. The pain in his paw becomes utterly unnoticeable as the stinging in his chest returns. Like a vine of thorns winding around his heard, slowly squeezing tighter, driving the thorns ever deeper into him. Able to avoid a pained wince just barely by letting out a strong nasal exhale instead, he dips his head in greeting. Stone faced and stiff in his motions, he looks back up at the pair of she-cats. His voice is calm, a little quieter than usual, but devoid of any and all emotion, at the cost of a great deal of active effort.

„Leafpool, Squirrelflight. I didn't mean to interrupt. I could return a bit later, if…"

The pair of amber eyes, though for a brief moment showing shock, seem to relax a bit. Leafpool's voice remains a little shaken as she shakes her head. He must have really surprised the two sisters in their discussion.

„No, it's alright. What did you need, Ashfur?"

The grey warrior raises his paw, humming quietly

„I seem to have gotten a splinter during my hunt. I don't know how deep it's in. Brackenfur noticed I had a light limp, so I came here"

Though he puts active effort in the attempt not to look her way, Ashfur observes Squirrelflight from the corner of his vision as he keeps his gaze directed towards Leafpool. He must have surprised them a lot more than he initially thought still. The deep, emerald green eyes of Squirrelflight, whom's shape he slowly begins to be able to make out better in the dim light, seem to still hold worry, almost even suspicion. Does she fear that they've been overheard? What would they have been talking about that needs such secrecy that their clanmates could not be allowed to know? Leafpool directs Ashfur to one of the nests. Knowing the procedures of the medicine den fairly well by now Ashfur complies on nigh automation, extending his paw for the medicine cat to inspect as soon as he is settled down. They are the daughters of a leader, one the medicine cat, in contact with their ancestors and interpret of their will, the other mate of the deputy… Perhaps it'd not be far fetched to guess it has to do with relations between the clans. They did mention the Gathering after all. Perhaps they are rightfully prudent. Ever since trouble with Windclan started growing and Riverclan's temporary residence on the island, things must be a bit more complicated. It'd put Thunderclan at a disadvantage if the leader's plans were just known by just everyone, to be potentially blathered out at a Gathering in front of the other clans.

By the time he snaps back to reality from his thoughts, he sees that Leafpool is already diligently licking a bit of poultice into the small wound, the splinter resting on the floor next to him. He hums as he observes the shard of wood, the majority of it coloured red in his blood that seeped into it. It must have been a good bit deeper than he realised.

„Thank you. Thunderclan is lucky to have you"

Leafpool continues a few heartbeats longer before relinquishing Ashfur's paw.

„I'm only doing as Cinderpelt taught me. There, it should be better now. Keep away from mud and the like, beyond that you are clear to return to your duties already. The cold outside should help prevent swelling on it's own."

Ashfur nods, a bit of relief filling his eyes at the news. Scenting that Squirrelflight is still in the den, having barely moved at all since Ashfur entered, the grey warrior actively resists the urge to clutch his chest, the feeling inside remaining.

„Good. Lionpaw will be glad to hear it. He'll be worrying that his training might fall flat today"

Slowly rising back up to his paws, Ashfur nods gratefully towards Leafpool, before turning his head towards Squirrelflight. He briefly parts his jaws to give a goodbye, or a see you later, something, anything, only to find his mind blanking for a moment before the soft furred she-cat, the rich orange colour of her pelt visible now. Squirrelflight has her eyes averted, looking at Jaypaw's empty nest, her shining, green eyes heavy with thoughts of her own as her fluffy, fiery orange tail curly around her one white paw. She does not raise her head to return the grey warrior's gaze. Ashfur's maw closes as he slowly turns away wordlessly after all, giving a simple dip of his head instead. Right... Not worth the attention, not beside her current mate. Not noteworthy yet. The grey warrior's ears droop down for a moment before they rise into a neutral position again, as he slowly pads out of the den. The slightly disheartened look of Leafpool as the warrior steps away goes unnoticed, the droop as short as it was not having passed the medicine cat by unregistered.

Not yet worth it. Not yet. Much work remains to be done. And part of it is making Lionpaw into a powerful warrior of Thunderclan. His apprentice will be the pride of his clan when he receives his warrior name. The stinging in his chest easing up ever so slightly, the warrior approaches the apprentice den again, Lionpaw sitting before it, chatting with Jaypaw. The blind cat's ear twitches and swivels towards the approaching tom a moment before he turns his head in the same direction. Lionpaw soon follows his sibling's empty gaze, a hint of excitement immediately sparkling in his eyes.

„Ready to head out for training, Lionpaw?"

The apprentice leaps up onto his paws, turning to face his mentor and nodding

„Of course! Where are we training today, Ashfur?"

After a moment, a small grin appears on Ashfur. He did say he would after all…

„The mossy clearing. Brackenfur seems to doubt our training. I say we show him how strong you're getting. Sound good?"

The excitement in Lionpaw's eyes takes on a competitive touch, the apprentice's grin wider than his mentor's. Rare is the urge to pettiness, but today the idea of rubbing Lionpaw's abilities under Brackenfur's nose after his thinly veiled criticism does let a bit of joy arise in Ashfur. Let's see how the other apprentices hold up compared to his.