"Rusty!"
"Alright, Smudge. What's the matter?"
"Were you talking with that ol' pisshead Pine again?"
"And what if I was?"
"I knew it! You're staring out into the bleedin' woods again! You want to get your head lopped off, mate!?"
Rusty rolls his eyes. "Piss off. And you say I'm the one with my head in the clouds."
"But Henry said-"
"That old cocker ain't been right in the head since the humies snipped his bollocks off," Rusty scoffs. "You want that to happen to you?"
"Better than painting the dirt with my guts, mate!"
"Oh, be real," Rusty says. "The clan cats are real noble-like. Valiant. They're not going 'round popping each other's throats out."
"Ha! You'll believe anything the old fart says, you starry-eyed clot?" Smudge shakes his head. "Your burial, mate. I'll find something nice to put on your grave."
Rusty snorts. "Prat."
It occurs to Rusty - Firepaw, he reminds himself - that Smudge may have been right, as he stares at the poor tom with his throat gashed open right in the middle of camp.
'Looks like they were in sore need of recruits, eh?'he thinks weakly, shivering a little as Dustpaw sobs into the stiff body.'There goes my good mood.'
"Somebody get Spottedleaf!" a cat shouts, Fireheart can't hope to guess who. "Ravenpaw's collapsed!"
"Hey," he murmurs to Graypaw, still staring at the tom's - Redtail, right? - corpse. "D-Does this happen often, mate? Just dragging dead blokes right into the middle of the camp?"
"You might not want to say something like that around anybody else," Graypaw whispers nervously. "They might take it the wrong way." He shakes his head. "A-And no… This doesn't happen often. Warriors aren't supposed to kill each other…"
'Well, that's a relief,"Firepaw thinks, though it makes him feel a bit of a coward. He still feels like Smudge would be laughing at him if he could see this. From a safe distance, the knob.
"You think he'll be alright?" Firepaw asks, flicking his tail towards Dustpaw. "Don't think I've ever seen somebody cry like that."
"Redtail was his mentor," Graypaw says. "They were pretty close, too… I don't know what Bluestar does when a mentor dies, but I guess he'll be replaced." He sniffles. "Awful. Everyone knows not to kill in battle - it's right there in the Warrior Code!"
Somebody's gonna have to give Firepaw the rundown on that one. He knows there's a code, but nobody had bothered to explain it.
A ginger molly - much lighter in color than his own bright orange - strolls into the camp, a tidy bit of prey dangling from her jaws. Firepaw figures this must be the Sandpaw who Dustpaw had brought up earlier, given that she's tailed by a lumbering white-furred bloke over twice her size. Firepaw wouldn't think Thunderclan was starving with toms like him running about.
Sandpaw (probably) locks her gaze onto the body in the camp center. The prey drops from her jaws.
"F-Father…?" she gasps.
'Fuck me,'Firepaw winces, watching her stumble towards the body, locking eyes with the sobbing Dustpaw.'And here I was, chuffed up to my whiskers. I hope this isn't a sign.'
"S-Sandpaw…" Dustpaw moans helplessly, shivering in place. Firepaw's heart twists a tad. "I- I… He's…"
"Who…" Sandpaw whispers, unblinking. "Who did this!? Who!?"
"Redtail was killed by the Riverclan deputy," the frightening bloke who dragged Redtail into camp says. "I saw fit to return the favor. The overconfident oaf didn't even see it coming."
"S-So…" Sandpaw's fury dims. "I don't even get that, huh…? Redtail's just… gone?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Oakheart is dead?" Bluestar asks, an odd expression on her face. "I see." She takes a deep breath, nosing into Dustpaw's side. "... We must prepare Redtail for burial."
"No!" Dustpaw whimpers. "This isn't happening…"
"I'm sorry, Dustpaw. We all lose good cats." She drapes her tail across his quivering back. "We'll pay our respects soon."
"I…" Dustpaw stands, trailing like a ghost into the apprentice's den.
Spottedleaf approaches the body, a horrified look on her face. "So it's true… Redtail's…"
"Yes," Bluestar sighs. "I'm sorry, Spottedleaf."
"... Ravenpaw's alright," Spottedleafs manages, closing her eyes. "His wounds are superficial, so it's the shock that put him under. I had wondered what had happened, but I didn't think…"
"I," Sandpaw chokes, staggering away from the body, "I have to put my prey away."
'We throw it in that pile, yeah?'Firepaw thinks. He feels bad for poor Redtail, but it's making his fur itch being around so many grieving cats.'By the quicks, and all that, right?'
"Ah, hello," he says as the molly passes, clearing his throat. "You, uh, need any-"
"Who are you?" Her eyes narrow, and she comesfartoo close. Firepaw's head ducks back enough he feels like his neck's fit to snap. She sniffs him, jowl curling in disgust."Kittypet.What do you think you're doing here!? Get out!"
"I-I'm a new apprentice," he defends. "My name's-"
"Are you joking?" she hisses, claws digging into the dirt. Firepaw swallows. He had the element of surprise when he jumped that prick Longtail, but he doesn't fancy his chances against an angry molly. "Are you trying to mock us!? You think you can stumble in here and declare yourself a clan cat!? Get out!"
"Oi! I'm just-"
"Out! Now, you piece of fox-dung!" She raises her forelegs, fangs fully exposed, and Firepaw hits the dirt, belly dragging across the dirt.
"Sandpaw, enough!" The enormous white fellow she came into camp with yowls. "Firepaw has agreed to fully embrace the ways of Thunderclan. If you attack him, you attack a clanmate."
"Wh-!? You knew knew about this!?" Sandpaw sputters. Firepaw decides it wise to creep away.
"Bluestar discussed his recruitment with me, yes. I had hoped him to be introduced under better circumstances." He sighs, grooming an ear. "Both of you, Graypaw too, for that matter, use the rest of the day to rest. We've caught more than enough, and I doubt anyone's in the mood for battle training."
Firepaw is actually quite interested, but decides expressing that would probably make Smudge a prophet. Tomorrow's just as good, probably.
"I'm sorry about your old tom," Firepaw tries. "My own dad bought it a-"
"Shut up," Sandpaw hisses, storming away towards the massive dune a little ways from camp.
'Maybe I shouldn't've said "bought it,"'Firepaw thought, feeling like a right muck-up.
"Don't worry, Firepaw," Graypaw whispered. "I got your back! Dustpaw and Sandpaw both cared about Redtail a lot, so…"
"They're not in the mood for pleasant conversation, yeah?" Firepaw sighs. "I get it, mate. I'll keep out of their way."
"Hey, we can always talk to Ravenpaw! He'sreallycool! He's a better story-teller than the elders!"
"That the, er, screamy bloke?"
"He's not always screamy! He's actually really rarely screamy!"
Firepaw figures that's fair. He'd brick it too if he caught eyes on a murder. He shivers a little. "Alright. Let's go pay him a visit, then. 'Parently there's nish to do otherwise."
"'Nish'?" Graypaw cocks his head. "That's Riverclan prey! You've really got a lot to learn, huh?"
"Not what I-" Firepaw sighs. "Whatever, mate. Lead on."
"He's going to live, then?" Ah. Scary bloke again. Firepaw should probably start learning the names around here.
"Relax, Tigerclaw." There's one! Thank you, Spottedleaf. "A few scratches aren't going to kill a healthy young tom like Ravenpaw."
"Well, he ought to get up then," Tigerclaw scoffs. "We're wasting daylight."
"Tigerclaw," Spottedleaf says, and something in her tone frightens Firepaw something wicked. "My brother died not ten minutes ago. The clan will not starve for one moment to mourn."
Tigerclaw grunts noncommittal, stomping his way out of the medicine den.
"Alright," Firepaw nods, attempting to be friendly.
"You've got your work cut out for you, kittypet," the juggernaut hums. "I must obey Bluestar's word, so I do hope you'll tread carefully."
"I'm just-"
"And for Starclan's sake," he continues on his way out, flicking his tail dismissively, "at leasttryto hide that hideous accent."
Firepaw's eyes narrow. "... Prick."
"Shh!" Graypaw looks behind them frantically. "Don't disrespect Tigerclaw! He got his name for a reason! He could shear your pelt in one go with those talons of his!"
"'S'no excuse to be a fat-head," Firepaw mutters. "What's wrong with the way I talk?"
"I mean… I understand, like, most of the things you say!" Graypaw cheers awkwardly. "So that's pretty good!"
"... Right."
"C-C'mon! Let's go see Ravenpaw!"
Spottedleaf sighs. "Not now, kits. He's resting."
"Aw, but- but-!" Graypaw rests on his laurels, putting a paw on Firepaw's head. It practically dwarfs his skull. "I wanted to introduce him to Firepaw!"
"And Firepaw is a polite young tom who canwait,unlike a certain someone else in this den,' Spottedleaf sighs. She turns to address Firepaw alone. "You didn't know Redtail, so no one will expect you to sit vigil. But it should make a good impression if you attend. Show the clan you're not just playing around."
"I'm not!" Firepaw insists.
"I believe you, and so does Bluestar. The hard part is making everybody else believe it." Spottedleaf shakes her head, turning back to her stores. Fireheart can spot a bunch of leaves and goos, separated with finely dug holes. He has no clue what's what, and decides it would be in everybody's best interest if he didn't come within a claw of it.
Spottedleaf laughs gently. "Relax. You likely aren't expected to do anything until tomorrow. I see you've made friends with Graypaw." She cocks her head. "Are you getting along with the other apprentices?"
"Ah…" Firepaw grins nervously. "Well, apparently Ravenpaw's going to be charmed."
"Hey, Dustpaw was being pretty welcoming!" Graypaw insists. "By Dustpaw standards, I mean. Then… uh…"
"I see." Spottedleaf closes her eyes, swallowing harshly. "I can only pray for him. I never learned how to heal mental wounds, I'm afraid."
"He was being way nicer too," Graypaw laments. "Guess I can't blame him, though."
Firepaw coughs, feeling a little out of the loop. He scratches at his neck fur, loose from his collar for the first time in ages. That would take some getting used to.
Ravenpaw, laying in a comfy little nest with some goop on his shoulder and ear, cracks an eye open. "... He's gone, right?"
"Who?" Graypaw asks, cocking his head.
"My… mentor." Ravenpaw's a bit of a shifty-eyed character, it seems.
'What's he so nervous about?'Firepaw wonders. He wants to claw himself a moment later.'Right. Maybe Dustpaw was right about the brainless bit.'
"Tigerclaw?" Firepaw asks. "Lumbering bloke? Face only a mother could love?"
"... That's him."
"Yeah, he's gone, mate."
Ravenpaw melts with relief. "Thank Starclan." He blinks. "U-Um, who are you? You sound like…"
"A kittypet?" Firepaw rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Been getting that a lot, mate. You're the ones who sound thick to me, y'know, but I haven't said nothing."
"I… didn't mean to offend."
Firepaw laughs. "I'm not offended, mate. I joined up, didn't I? Town life was bollocks. If leaving it behind means getting a bit of piss slung at me, then I've just got to harden up, yeah?"
"Well," Ravenpaw hums, grooming his headfur back. "I- I guess I understand… why you'd want to start over. But… don't you miss the cats from home?"
"Sure, I do." Firepaw shakes his head. "But it wasn't worth my freedom, mate."
"I see…"
"Well, if you kits are all feeling so well, you've got no reason to loiter around here," Spottedleaf says, finishing with her bits and bobs. "Ravenpaw can stay, but I don't see anything wrong with you two."
Firepaw grins. "I've been told there's a dent in my head. You think it's true?"
"I'm starting to suspect," Spottedleaf laughs, "now shoo."
"Alright…" Graypaw groans. "I barely even got to talk…"
"You'll see me tonight, Graypaw," Ravenpaw says.
"Ugh, but that's forever from now…"
"Tough luck, mate," Firepaw says. "Guess we'll have to piss about someplace else."
"Ew! Save that for the dirtplace!"
"It's a figure of bloody speech!"
The moon rises, and Bluestar climbs atop the big stone in the middle of camp. "All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock!" she calls.
Not a complicated naming scheme, then. Probably for the best. Graypaw's ears prick. "Right!" he says, sobering quickly. "Bluestar has to assign a new deputy before moonhigh!"
"Why so soon?"
"How do you expect us to function without a second in command, Firepaw!?" Graypaw bats his head, leaving Firepaw's ear to flick in annoyance. "A new deputy has to be assigned right away!"
"Right, right, gotcha." Firepaw sighs. "Should use my noggin a bit more, eh?"
"Hey, you're still new," Graypaw whispers as the Clan begins to gather around. "It's okay to make a couple mistakes. I do it all the time, and I was born here!"
'Not exactly inspiring confidence there, mate,'Firepaw shakes his head.
Looking around, he's surprised to see Dustpaw, though judging by Sandpaw's viper grip on his ear, he probably didn't feel like moving about.
Dustpaw plops onto his haunches the moment Sandpaw lets go. She hisses in frustration. "Dustpaw, you can't stay in your nest all day! What's the matter with you!?"
Dustpaw cocks his head in a shrug, staring at the ground.
"For Starclan's sake!" Sandpaw seethes, clawing aimlessly at clumps of dirt. Best to stay away, Firepaw figures, inching closer to Graypaw.
"It is with a heavy heart," Bluestar announces, and the clan goes silent at once. Firepaw's impressed. "That I must announce the burial service for Redtail, the deputy who served this Clan with everything within him for these long, hard seasons. Those closest to him shall sit vigil on this moonrise, surrendering his spirit to the highest echelons of Starclan."
There's that phrase again. Nothing like a death to teach you about religion, Firepaw figures. Bloody grim. He had thought his first day would be less heartbreaking, once he passed the initiation.
"Should any cat wish to pay their respects, now is the time. The rest of my announcements may wait."
Firepaw watches as practically half the cats gathered around him circle around the corpse. Spottedleaf had apparently kept it fresh with something, given that he hadn't started to rot. Firepaw grows queasy at the thought.
"Should I…?"
Graypaw shakes his head. "You didn't know him. They'd take it as dishonest. Um, it's really nice of you to offer, though!"
"Are you gonna say goodbye?"
"I probably should, actually. I didn't know himthatwell, but he was still the deputy."
Graypaw hesitantly trots off towards the body. Honestly, Firepaw's just relieved he doesn't have to look at it again. That throat wound isgrisly.
Firepaw, unsure of what to do until the mourning's finished, peeks at the medicine den. Ravenpaw is sitting there in the entrance, staring sightlessly at the body, though he probably can't even see it through the crowd. Firepaw scoots at an acceptably slow pace - he didn't want to be rude - until he's at an acceptable whispering distance.
"Oi, mate, you alright?"
"Huh?" Ravenpaw blinks, shaking himself out of his stupor. "F-Firepaw? Yes, I'm alright…"
"That's a bit tough to believe when you're looking as rough as a badger's arse," Firepaw scoffs. "Graypaw told me this sort of thing's not normal, yeah? What happened?"
"... I don't want to talk about it," Ravenpaw says, looking away. "There's not any point, anyway…"
"... Fuck," Firepaw curses, kicking himself. "I'm being a right prick, aren't I? I'm sorry, mate. Bite my ear off next time."
Ravenpaw manages a weak laugh. "Still believe the rumors that we eat kittypets?"
"Never believed them in the first place."
"Right," Ravenpaw grins. "That's what we want you to think."
"Wh-What…?" Firepaw backs up a step.
Ravenpaw bursts into a quiet little giggle-fit. "Sorry, s-sorry… You should see your face!" He sniffs, expression going all moody again. "Thanks, Firepaw. I needed that. I've been… itchy, under even my skin, all day."
"Prat," Firepaw sighs. "Don't freak me out like that."
"You're right," Ravenpaw mewls. "I- I mean… It's like Dustpaw says. Even now, I'm making jokes when… when Redtail isdead."He swallows. "I could've stopped it, but-" He grits his fangs, looking away. "I- I don't know. Forget I said anything."
Firepaw looks back towards the body. Looks like most of his new clanmates have gone back to the Highrock. Only a few are still lingering: Dustpaw, limp and bog-eyed; Sandpaw, grooming angry tears from her fur; Spottedleaf, standing silent and sorrowful, like one of those mollies from the ghost stories his old tom would tell him; and, surprisingly enough, a stony Tigerclaw.
"Alright, mate," Firepaw says. "Feel better, yeah?"
"... Thanks, Firepaw." Ravenpaw looks away. "I'll try to make you feel welcome. You probably already know how most of Thunderclan feels about k- house cats. It's not really any different in the other clans."
"Yeah, I figured. Thanks, mate."
Firepaw slinks back to the highrock, finding Graypaw just as Bluestar speaks.
"The time has come to appoint a new deputy," she announces. "Redtail has earned his rest, so I shall name this new deputy proudly, for his spirit to approve. The new deputy of Thunderclan shall be Lionheart."
'Class!'Firepaw thought. Graypaw's mentor was a good tom, from what he'd seen so far. Out of the corner of his eyes, past the congratulations, Firepaw notices Tigerclaw slinking away. Was that all he cared to hear? Odd.
"Redtail died far too young," Bluestar continues, that sort of grief Firepaw only ever heard in the voices of cats far his senior staining her words. "And has left behind not only his kin, but a strong young apprentice. I am hesitant to disrupt Dustpaw's training even further with the assignment of a fresh mentor." She hums.
"Whitestorm."
The white-furred tom straightens up. Firepaw still doesn't really get the naming scheme, but he's glad for the simplicity. "Bluestar?"
"I am loathe to burden you with the extra duty, but as you worked with Redtail and Dustpaw frequently, I must ask you to continue his apprenticeship in Redtail's stead. Are you up to the task of training two cats?"
Whitestorm nods. "Of course. Dustpaw is shaping up to be a fine warrior. It'll be good for him and Sandpaw both, I feel."
"Thank you," she sighs. "I pray you make the adjustment easier on him." She straightens. "That is all. Retire for the night. The days ahead are sure to be long."
The clan disperses. "Whitestorm's impressive, eh?" Firepaw wonders. "I hope Sandpaw's sweeter to Dustpaw than me."
Graypaw snorts. "They've been attached at the haunches ever since I was born," he says. "You're right, though, about Whitestorm. A warriornevertrains two apprentices at once! If anyone could do it, I would've thought Tigerclaw!"
"Why him? He hardly seems like the friendliest."
"Aw, he's not so bad!" Graypaw flicks his tail dismissively. "Ravenpaw's tough, so that's gotta be thanks to him, right?"
Thinking back on Ravenpaw's ghostly eyes, Firepaw's not so sure.
"Hey," Graypaw blinks as they approach the Apprentices' Den. "I just realized we never built you a nest! You're not gonna want to sleep on the ground!"
"I'd hope not, mate."
"I'll help," Ravenpaw says, stepping gingerly on his wounded foreleg. "I'm good with the bedding."
Firepaw grins. "Class."
They enter the den, only to find that they're not alone.
"Ugh," Sandpaw spits. "You mouse-brains are getting kitty stench all over your pelts. Why hasn't he gone home?"
"I'm here to stay, I'm afraid," Firepaw says. "You're not gonna run me off with a few mean words."
"You're familiar with being all talk, huh?" she growls. "Stay away from me if you value your pelt, kittypet."
"Well, he's got to sleep somewhere!" Graypaw gasps, moving towards the back of the den. "You can't just kick him out into the cold!"
"You know full-well that I can."
"Just shut up," Dustpaw growls, practically sunken into his nest. He's curled up completely, and it doesn't seem like he wants to move. "Both of you. Who cares if the kittypet plays pretend for a couple days? We've got the spare belly."
"Dustpaw," Sandpaw starts, grinding her fangs uncomfortably. "... Whatever." She sinks into her own nest. "Whatever. Fine. Eat our hard-caught prey and embarrass our clan. Who cares?" She curls up, muttering to herself.
'Hard time of it, I suppose,'Firepaw figures, moving to help Graypaw with the nest - not that he knows what he's doing, really.
"Oh, no," Sandpaw hisses. "Other side. I amnotsleeping next to you."
"Hey, I don't wanna drag all this moss over there!" Graypaw whines. "I'm between you and him anyway!"
"I don't care!" she insists. "That's still far too close!"
"What, do you think I'll gut you in your sleep or something?" Firepaw asks, scowling. "Thought I was a milksop kittypet."
"I don't want your stench ruining my sleep," she growls. "Other. Side. Two cats between us is the least I can tolerate."
"Fine! Whatever!"
With Ravenpaw and a grumbling Graypaw's help, they manage to build Firepaw's new nest on the other side of the den.
"Next to me, then?" Dustpaw mumbles. "Whatever."
"W-We can move it again," Ravenpaw says. "Other side of the den."
"That's a bit lonesome, innit?" Firepaw huffs.
"I'll move over with you!" Graypaw says, and Firepaw warms at the support. "ButSandpawbetter help."
"Not a chance. You play with kittypets, you pick up after them."
"Don't make me sound like a bloody dog!"
"Shut up!" Dustpaw growls. "If you can just be quiet, you can sleep wherever you like. I'm not in the mood to hear your stupid voice anymore."
"... Fine, mate. Whatever you fancy."
"Great, so I'm still sleeping next to Sandpaw," Graypaw huffs. "'Ooh, two cats are the least I can tolerate. Ooh, I hate being reasonable.'"
"I'm heading out for vigil, you mouse-brain," growls Sandpaw, climbing out of her nest. "And if Dustpaw decides to stopfeeling sorry for himself," she emphasizes. Dustpaw's ears barely twitch. "He'd come with."
Dustpaw makes no move to leave his nest, face buried into his forelegs.
Sandpaw scoffs, leaving the den.
Grimacing, Firepaw settles into his nest uncomfortably. No more humie hospitality. He'd miss taking advantage of the blighters, but he figures he'd miss his freedom more.
'Clan life,'he thinks.'Scary and obnoxious or otherwise, I think I've finally got what I was looking for.'
"So you're really doing it, then?" Smudge asks.
"Yeah, mate. Full break."
"... I'll miss you, y'know."
"I know." Rusty bumps his head into Smudge's side. "But I ain't got nothing else, Smudge. Dad's gone. Humies are getting too antsy with how often I run off. Won't be long before they don't let me out at all."
"Not to mention the cutter, I s'pose."
The house cats sit in silence for a moment.
"Well. Don't get yourself killed, yeah? I'll be sure to laugh at you when I'm done feeling sorry."
"I'll laugh at you either way if they lop your bollocks off," Rusty grins. "Feel free to come find me, if that happens. I'll put in a good word, yeah?"
"Sod off! Would you listen to your dinner dish if it told you about its chum?"
Rusty laughs. "Think I'd have to back off from Henry's nip stash!"
"Ha!" Smudge chuffs. "... Well. This is it, then?"
"Yeah."
"Alright, Rusty."
"Alright, Smudge. To a brighter future, yeah?"
"Yeah."
A sob cuts through the den, jolting Firepaw back to the waking world. He blinks groggily, sleep in his eyes.
A warm body bumps against his paw, shivering incessantly.
"The hell…?" Firepaw mutters, shifting in his bedding. "What do you want?"
The cat next to him jolts into his chin, shifting wildly.
'Great,'Firepaw thinks, rolling over.'My neighbor's a messy sleeper.'
Dustpaw whines, a high, keening pitch from the back of his throat. He thrashes again, knocking Firepaw's face right into the dirt.
"Alright, that's it." Firepaw leaps to his paws, teeth bared.
The expression falls when he sees Dustpaw, tears running down his twitching eyes, sobbing violently in his sleep; thrashing about like he's being strangled.
Uncomfortable memories of a collar fit to kill around his more and more feather-light throat surface, and Firepaw winces in sympathy.
"Mate," he murmurs, poking Dustpaw gently with his nose. Dustpaw kicks him in the face.
"Mate,"Firepaw growls, resting a paw on the other tom's head. "Wake up. You're having a bad dream."
Dustpaw's whimpers grow throaty and desperate, hind paws kicking frantically.
"Dustpaw!" Firepaw hisses, right into Dustpaw's ear.
Pain flashes through his chest, worse than when Longtail had tried to choke the life out of him.
"Wh-What!?" Dustpaw pants, claws dripping with blood. "Who-!?"
"Shit!" Firepaw hisses, trying to keep his volume down. Sandpaw may not have been here to rip his ears off, but he didn't want to piss off his new friends on barely the second day. "You prick! You trying to kill me!?"
"What…?" Dustpaw blinks heavily, retracting his claws. His hackles raise. "What do you think you're doing, attacking me in my sleep!?"
"Youattackedme,you dumbarse!" Firepaw growls. "I was trying to help you, mate!"
"You tried to help me?" Dustpaw's eyes narrow. "I'm supposed to believe that fox-dung?"
"Oh, piss off. You were having a nightmare, thrashing and jerking around like you were being murdered." Firepaw rests on his haunches, taking a deep breath. Dustpaw knew how to make itsting."I got worried."
"... I don't need your help," Dustpaw growls.
"Fine, whatever, mate," Firepaw sneers. "Let's talk when you're not being a prat, yeah?"
He sits up, stumbling to the entranceway. "They're probably still having the vigil. You're gonna regret it if you miss it, mate."
"You don't know anything, kittypet."
"I know more than you think. But whatever, drown in your own head for all I care. I tried."
Firepaw stumbles to the Medicine Den, leaving Dustpaw to stew in his own misery.
'That's the last time I try to help.'
"Firepaw?"
As it turns out, Spottedleaf was sitting vigil for Redtail. Firepaw thinks he'd appreciate the humour, if it didn't mean he had to sleep with a stinging chest.
"Are you alright?" Spottedleaf asks. "Why are you in my den?"
"My new bedmate thought it'd be funny to cut me open, that's all," Firepaw groans. "I don't know how to use any of this stuff, neither."
"What!?" she gasps, rushing over to tend to him. "Why didn't you come find me!?
"Seemed improper."
"Impropriety is no concern when you've got an injury," she huffs, sniffing his wound. "They aren't deep at all, so you shouldn't have any concerns once I apply a poultice, but be smarter in the future, would you?"
"Sorry. I didn't want to disturb you."
"My duty is tolivingcats, Firepaw," she sighs. "Redtail's already gone. There's nothing I can do for him now. We buried him this morning. I was surprised Dustpaw managed to drag himself out of the Apprentices' Den. He seemed so heartbroken…"
Dustpaw had taken his advice? Looks like the scratches were good for something, after all.
"Yeah? Good on him, then."
Spottedleaf hums, finishing with the goop that Firepaw pretendsisn'tcobweb. "Alright. You're good to go. It's in a convenient spot, so it shouldn't interrupt your training." She nods towards the entrance. "You don't have a mentor, so you ought to be proactive. You've already proven you aren't shy."
Firepaw's ears heat up. "I didn't want to get kicked out."
Spottedleaf laughs.
It's Lionheart and Tigerclaw he ends up tagging along with, especially given that Whitestorm's got his jaws full enough. Not that Sandpaw or Dustpaw seemed like rollicking good company in the first place.
"That's Shadowclan territory!" Graypaw exclaims, pointing his forepaw towards the road. "You got the scent, right? Their border's easy, 'cuz the thunderpath cuts it off!"
"You named the street after yourselves?"
"What?"
Lionheart chuckles. "No, it's named after the noise the monsters make. It's for the best if you don't cross it at all."
"You mean the motors? They'll stop if they-" A car shoots by, fast enough to ruffle his fur. He blinks. "Right."
"Don't act superior, kittypet," Tigerclaw says blandly. "Knowing Twoleg terms doesn't mean you know the behavior of their creations."
"Th-The ones back in town are a sight slower than that." Firepaw swallows. "Guess that's how…"
"How what?"
"... Nothing." Firepaw pokes out a fang. "Why are there four clans anyway? Nobody ever cottoned me on to that. Wouldn't it be better to work together?"
"We may share ancestry in Starclan," Lionheart says before Tigerclaw can snap, "but our cultures grew apart over the seasons. Trying to get cats from all four clans to live together would be a fool's errand."
Firepaw hums. "I s'pose. But you guys communicate, don't you?"
"Of course. The Gathering is held every moon. We not be united, but peace is most desirable for all the clans."
"Tell that to Shadowclan or Riverclan," Tigerclaw scoffs. "They seem to have missed the message."
The conversation dies. Distantly, still turning over hypothetical clan politics, he thinks Ravenpaw is awful quiet around his own mentor.
Shadowclan: border. Riverclan: border. Windclan: practically irrelevant, given they're directly across the full territory. Got it. Firepaw wonders how he was meant to recognize a Windclan cat when he hadn't caught their scent.
"Choke on fox-dung, Dustpaw!" Ah, Sandpaw. She sounds as lovely as ever.
"Just shut up," Dustpaw growls, hackles raised. Whitestorm is stood between them, an exhausted expression on his face.
"Enough," the older cat hisses. "This is embarrassing behavior coming from you two."
"Don't act like you're my mentor!" Dustpaw spits. "I'm tired of your pity, Whitestorm!"
"Stop being so ungrateful, bee-brain!" Sandpaw yowls. "Pull your head out of your tail for one second and quit moping!"
"Shut up! Shut up, shut up!" That seems to be his favorite phrase, by Firepaw's guess. "You don't get it!"
Sandpaw gasps in rage. "He was my father, you fox-heart! Of course I get it! I just don't see the point in acting like aspoiled kittypetwho hasn't gotten his Twoleg slop!"
Oh, lovely. She's noticed him, then. Firepaw beats a hasty retreat.
"Don't compare me tohim!" Dustpaw cries, and Firepaw can't pretend that it doesn't sting. "I just- I…" he trails off. "I…"
"Dustpaw," Whitestorm sighs. "Retire for the night, alright? We'll speak about your behavior tomorrow."
"... Whatever."
Firepaw knows one thing for sure: hedoes notwant to get dragged into any of Dustpaw's hissy fit.
"Alright, Dustpaw?"
Dustpaw doesn't respond, slumped into his nest. Thank… Starclan, right? Thank Starclan.
During the night, Firepaw gets kicked in the head again. He doesn't bother waking Dustpaw up this time.
"Ravenpaw! You call that a hunting crouch!? You look like a duck, kit!"
Well, at least Tigerclaw is an inclusive prat.
"His leg's probably still aching," Firepaw says.
"That's no excuse," Tigerclaw growls. "It's been days. Spottedleaf herself said the wounds were superficial. Now shape up."
"Sorry, Tigerclaw," Ravenpaw says tonelessly.
"Apologies are useless when you don't make an effort to live up to them. Even the kittypet's outperforming you!"
Firepaw squashes the prickle of pride he feels at that.
Ravenpaw sinks closer to the dirt.
Kicked in the noggin. Again.
Firepaw groans.
"Nice effort, Firepaw!" Lionheart cheers.
Firepaw feels a little dizzy. He doesn't think his claws have ever extended this far. He digs them further into the bark.
"Are you alright up there?" Graypaw calls.
"Having a lark, mate!" Firepaw whines. "Just dandy!"
"Lionheart!" Graypaw groans to his mentor. "His language is all funny again! I think he's scared!"
"I'm fine!"
"Don't worry, Firepaw," Lionheart laughs. "Just make sure to land on me! I'm a big enough target!"
Firepaw climbs back down immediately.
Alright. That's enough.
"Mate," Firepaw hisses, clawing at the flailing legs. "Mate!"
Dustpaw rolls out of his nest, fur fluffing to nearly double his frame. "Huh, what!? What do you want!?"
"An uncracked skull for one," Firepaw grumbles.
"Ha," Dustpaw sighs. "You've had your fun, kittypet. Don't you think it's time you go home?"
Firepaw's eyes narrow. "You wanna run that one by me again, mate?"
"This isn't a game," Dustpaw growls. "If you're so uncomfortable, go home. Nobody will stop you."
"I'm doing all I can," Firepaw insists. "I'm catching prey, I'm climbing trees, I'm dealing with Graypaw nearly breaking my bleeding neck in battle training. I eat when the warriors say I can eat. I follow the rules. What the hell else do you want from me, eh!?"
After a long moment of staring, Dustpaw's amber eyes burning into Firepaw's own, glowing softly in the dark of the den, Dustpaw scoffs.
"... Guess you're trying," he admits, like he's chewing the rubbish from a humie bin. "I'll give you that."
"Yeah, mate." Firepaw sniffs. "I've been trying to say that from the start."
Dustpaw's eyes rove away from him. He looks distinctly uncomfortable, and Firepaw can't suppress a bit of vindictive glee.
"... I'm heading to the dirtplace," he says, practically running away.
Firepaw lolls back into his bedding, stretching his legs as far as he can while he's got the chance.
Yet before he can get some proper sleep, he notices something. A slit yellow light, cracked open just a tad from Ravenpaw's nest.
Firepaw lifts his head. Ravenpaw closes his eye.
"... Mate."
Ravenpaw says nothing.
"You prat," Firepaw scoffs. "Leaving me to deal with the head knocks. Do you know how many brain cells I must've lost?"
Ravenpaw smothers a laugh.
"Ah! Now I know you're awake!"
"Firepaw," Sandpaw growls, and Firepaw's bravado shrinks to nish. "Shut. Up."
Firepaw decides to sink back into his nest. One thing he can't help but wonder, though, is if Ravenpaw was being woken up by Dustpaw's thrashing himself…
Why hadn't he done anything about it?