It's the brightest day Dustpaw has ever seen, the sun growing and roaring as it falls upon the river. Dead quiet, like all the life in the forest has choked on the smoke. The forest is burning, like Dustpaw's throat, chest, eyes.

Burning alive, without even the chance to-

"Dustpaw!"

Dustpaw twitches violently.

"Hey, you with me?"

Another nightmare, then. Dustpaw wheezes, sitting up slowly. From one fire to another, he supposes. At least the kittypet can't hurt him.

"Dustpaw?"

"What?" he groans. "If you're so bothered-"

"I'm just worried, mate," Firepaw insists. "A few bumps to the head won't kill me."

Dustpaw scoffs. Does he think he gets to invade Dustpaw's home and act like he cares about any of his problems?

"Guess you can't get any dumber."

Firepaw rolls his eyes. "And here I thought we was making some progress."

"Go back to sleep."

"You gonna wake me up again?"

"No."

Firepaw's eyes narrow. "And tomorrow night?"

"I thought you were 'just worried,'" Dustpaw sneers. "So much for the selfless angle, huh?"

"Whatever, mate," Firepaw says. "I tried."

"Would you stop calling me that!?" Dustpaw hisses, ears hot. Do kittypets have no decency!?

"Calling you what?"

"That!" Dustpaw grimaces. "M-Mate."

"... You're joking, right?" Firepaw stares in disbelief. "Nobody else seems bothered. Would you rather I call you 'love'?"

"That's even worse!"

"Then shut up, already," Firepaw scoffs. "I'm doing my level best, yeah? It's not easy changing every little thing about yourself. Shouldn't I worry about catching more prey before touching up my vocabulary?"

Dustpaw grunts. "You're going to be mocked. If you're really too stubborn to go back home, the other clans will have to notice you at some point. And if they hear a 'Future Thunderclan Warrior' talking like a kittypet, we'll be an embarrassment."

Firepaw scowls, looking away. "... Alright. I'll try. Can't promise nothing."

"Just don't humiliate yourself," Dustpaw sighs, shoving his head back into his nest. "It'll go doubly for us."

Firepaw doesn't respond.

Huffing quietly, Dustpaw tries to fall asleep.

Whitestorm is saying something. Dustpaw knows this. Whatever it might be, however, is a garbled tangle of sibilance and clicking fangs.

Dustpaw's paws trail slower and slower along the dirt. Dustpaw's paws. Ha.

"Dustpaw?"

Dustpaw's heavy head seems more pressing than whatever his sleek, fresh mentor is trying to tell him.

Dustpaw faceplants into the grass.

Dustpaw drifts back into the waking world to low, concerned murmuring.

He cracks an eye open. A mouse that had a few too many meals in its short life is resting before him. A white-tipped black tail flicks in the entrance to - what he now realizes is - the medicine den.

He groans gently, wiping a paw over his ears and eyes.

"Ravenpaw…?"

"Dustpaw!" Spottedleaf jumps, and great, the whole crew's assembled: Whitestorm, Sandpaw, and even Bluestar also occupy the medicine den.

"How are you feeling?" she continues, like the other three aren't judging him as she speaks. "Which one of my ears is perked?" she asks, flattening her left.

"The right," he mumbles.

"Good," she sighs. "Seems like you were just exhausted." She turns back to the others. "You promise not to crowd him? He's been having a hard time. It's difficult, when you're young…"

"I understand full well," Whitestorm says, "but Dustpaw's going to waste away if we do nothing."

Yeah, just talk about him like he's not here. Go ahead.

"Don't give us that look, Dustpaw," Sandpaw growls, eyes glistening. "I thought you were gonna die!"

"I was just tired," Dustpaw says, looking away.

"'Tired,'"she repeats. "Right."

Spottedleaf sighs. "You've really been worrying us, Dustpaw. You're not sleeping well, if at all. You won't pay any attention during training, if Whitestorm is to be believed. And clawing Firepaw? No matter how you feel about his-"

"Is that what he told you?" Dustpaw sneers, looking forward to clawing the bird-brained kittypet again; on purpose, this time. "Maybe if he wasn't leering at me while I was trying to sleep, he wouldn't have gotten his fur all messed up. Poor wittle kitty."

Spottedleaf glares at him, dryer than he's ever seen. "He didn't tell me anything. I figured it out. He's only got two denmates who would claw him, and you're the one who sleeps beside him." Her ear twitches. "How'd that happen, anyway?"

"Didn't want to move my nest," Dustpaw grumbles, feeling slightly less incensed and much more embarrassed.

"I'll move it with you if-"

"It's fine, Sandpaw," Dustpaw groans, ignoring her indignant scoff. "I'm the one ruining his sleep anyway, so you got what you wanted."

"I don't care about the kittypet!" Sandpaw spits. "Bee-brain! How are you gonna hunt if you're sleeping in the mud!?"

Bluestar waves her tail. "Sandpaw."

Sandpaw shuts her mouth, but she looks far from happy about it.

"Dustpaw," Bluestar sighs, and he justknowshe's in deep trouble. "The cats in this den understand your grief better than any others can hope to. I have tried to make the adjustment as easy on you as possible. But if you refuse to listen, to the point where you neglect your own well-being? I fear I might have to seek other courses of action."

"... It's not my fault," Dustpaw says, feeling like a kit even as the words leave his mouth. "I- I'm not losing sleep on purpose or anything…"

"And your attitude towards Whitestorm and Sandpaw?"

"I…" Dustpaw can't think of anything to say. It's like there's little rabbit claws poking through the underside of his pelt every time Whitestorm tries to teach him something, every time Sandpaw makes a remark that Redtail might have, every time he turns around, hoping for a word of praise from a mentor who's rotting beneath Thunderclan's paws.

Dustpaw says nothing, staring dully at the medicine nest.

"Dustpaw," Whitestorm says. "What do you want to do?"

Dustpaw doesn't have an answer.

Sandpaw rolls into her own nest, farther only from the kittypet.Firepaw,something in his chest says. He smothers it.

Ravenpaw is already asleep. Dustpaw growls in silent frustration. When was the last time they had even talked?

And with Graypaw conked out too, not that Dustpaw really wanted to talk to him, it looks like Dustpaw would be asleep early tonight. Joy.

"Alright, Dustpaw," the kittypet shuffles out of his bedding, blinking his bleary eyes.

Dustpaw ignores him, collapsing beside the annoying little outsider.

"What was it like?" Firepaw shuffles a bit, tail lolling out of his nest. "Growing up here, I mean."

Dustpaw groans. "What was it like eating kittyslop every day?"

"No great shakes, that's for sure," Firepaw laughs easily. Annoying. "It'd probably be better if itwasslop, but it was as dry as rabbit crap. I'd take the grittiest vole in the forest any day."

"Thanks," Dustpaw grinds out, "for thatappetizingimage, kittypet. I'm so glad you shared that with me."

"You asked, m- friend."

Dustpaw sighs. Friend, huh? The kittypet really is desperate. Doesn't he have Graypaw? Ravenpaw had seemingly decided Firepaw issuch goodcompany, as well. "It's great, if you like losing cats you love. I'm amazing at it, as it turns out."

"O-Oh," Firepaw nibbles his jaw. "Sorry I asked. Didn't mean to stir up any bad memories."

"When I tell you to run back to your twoleg den, I'm not just saying it for Sandpaw's peace of mind," Dustpaw mutters, rolling away from the kittypet's condescending apology. "If you get sick, you're using herbs that could help another clanmate. If you get hurt, you're using poultices that could stop some other cat's infection. Every time you take a piece from the prey pile, you take food that could go to a queen."

"That's not-!"

"That's why you can't be dead weight," Dustpaw swallows, claws flexing in and out and in again. "You're actively hurting the clan every time you stop providing for it. And everyone around you will be too nice to really punish you for it. So if you really want to make me feel better, kittypet, then prove you've earned that name of yours."

"... We're not really talking about me, are we?"

Dustpaw closes his eyes. He wakes up screaming just past moonhigh. Firepaw's too nice to say anything, but those vivid green eyes watch him with sickening sympathy no matter how he feels about it.

Dustpaw feels like he's surrendering. He's too tired to care.

Sandpaw has some choice words for him when they next share prey.

"I'm upset too, you tailhole," she growls, tearing into her robin enough for some bits of stringy mean to splatter across Dustpaw's fur. "I don't even want to go to the Gathering anymore. Just thinking about seeing Riverclan, knowing what they did, watching Lionheart take my father's place on the Great Rock? It makes me want to vomit." Fittingly, she tosses her robin aside. Dustpaw isn't really hungry himself, chewing blandly on a mousetail.

"Okay," he says.

"I'm saying I get it," Sandpaw insists, scowling. "Redtail was the most important cat in the world ever since we were in the nursery, and those fish-snarfing cowards stole him from me,us. What I don't get is why you're turning into a lazy pile of fox-dung!"

"Whatever," he says.

"This too!" she hisses, standing up with hackles raised. "'Okay, whatever, sure.' You won't eventellme anything! I-" she chokes, batting frantically at her eyes. "Whatever. Come see me when you're done feeling sorry for yourself. I'm done."

And she walks away. Down to zero friends, Dustpaw thinks, head resting dully on his paws. His chest hurts.

His eyes turn to his brother, eating cheerfully with that overgrown, furball-hacking kitten Graypaw.

Firepaw's about to grab something from the prey pile. Dustpaw's eyes narrow.

"Hey," he grits out. "Firepaw."

The naive loser turns his head. "Not too often you use my name!" he calls, quirking his head. "Wotcher, Dustpaw?"

"What?"

"A-Ah… What's the matter, I mean. Alright."

Dustpaw scoffs. "More kittypet lingo."

"I'm trying to kick it…"

Dustpaw shakes his head. "Come over here."

"Ah," he blinks. "I was gonna eat with-"

"I've got prey that's gonna go to waste otherwise," Dustpaw says. "So get over here."

"Pushy bastard," Firepaw grumbles, but obliges anyway. "They sending you to punish me for something? Don't see why I should eat your table scraps."

"Ta- What?" Dustpaw shakes his head. "It's almost two pieces of prey, so I'm being nice. Be grateful."

"Oh, thank you, sir!" Firepaw stiffens, plastering a grin across his face. "I'm so glad you're showing such generosity to a grotty ickle street rat likes meself! Bless you, sir!"

Nowthatjust gives Dustpaw a headache. He hadn't thought it could get worse. "Just shut up and eat."

"Sure, sure," Firepaw laughs, digging into the spare mouse. "Cheersh, Dushtpaw," he grins, mouth full.

Something in Dustpaw's chest loosens.

"Ravenpaw."

His brother jolts haggardly, seizing in place. He doesn't turn around, tail stiff and straight.

"Ravenpaw," Dustpaw repeats. "Hey."

Ravenpaw doesn't turn. "Hey, Dustpaw."

"What happened at Sunningrocks?" Dustpaw's throat tightens. "What's the matter with you?"

"... I don't know what you mean."

Dustpaw inhales. "You don't know what I mean?"

Ravenpaw doesn't turn. "I've got training with Tigerclaw. Can… Can we talk later?"

"Fine," Dustpaw hisses. "Fine."

"Dustpaw-"

Dustpaw storms away.

He only looks back once, watching Ravenpaw's tail drag against the ground, his frame shudder.

Ravenpaw hasn't turned his head.

Dustpaw ignores all the other nests in the den, diving straight into his bedding. Firepaw's mumbling something stupid under his breath.

"Alright, Dustpaw," he says with that dumb kittypet inflection. "I'm duffed- er, messed up." He hums in annoyance. "Point is: I'm aching. Bloody trees."

Dustpaw grunts.

"Well, what's crawled up your arse and died?" Firepaw shuffles a little closer. Dustpaw's tail lashes. "Not that you don't usually act like a prick, mind."

"Shut up," Dustpaw groans. "Do I have to report the quality of my day to you? It was only bad because I had to eat withyou."

"Right…" Firepaw shook his head. "Sure. When you're the one who called me over."

Dustpaw grunts again, turning over.

"... Hey, Dustpaw," Firepaw whispers. "The others sparked out already, yeah?"

"If you mean 'are they sleeping,' then yes. That's whatI'mtrying to do too, so stop mewling in my ear."

"Like that does you much good," Firepaw scoffs, and Dustpaw is about toclaw his dysfunctional ears offbefore he hears, "You want to share a nest?"

Dustpaw's mind blanks, eyes blowing wide. "Wh-What!?"

"I used to do it with my littermates, before," Firepaw sniffs, bitterness flashing through his gaze, "before we got pawned off, I mean. Only had my sister once I left town."

"W-We aren't brothers," Dustpaw insists, fur spiking. Did the kittypet have some sort of Starclan-awful ideas generator tucked into his tiny skull!? "Are you some kind of- it's- it's weird!"

"Do you really care, m- Dustpaw?" Firepaw asks. "You've been in tatters ever since the day I got here."

"Thanksfor the reminder, kittypet," Dustpaw growls.

Firepaw sighs. "I'm just trying to help. That's all. Maybe I should push off and leave you be, but… I just can't. I don't know. Too much of a sap, I guess. If it makes you uncomfortable, then fine. I'm not gonna force you. I just…" Firepaw meets his eyes, and Dustpaw feels very suddenly light-headed. "I can do something to help you. If I don't at least try, then why'd I even bother leaving the humies?"

Dustpaw tears his gaze away from Firepaw's all too earnest green gaze, burning worms wiggling in his throat and ears.

"Whatever," he says. "Fine. Just don't complain when I end up clawing you again."

"You never apologized for that, by the by," Firepaw laughs, like he isn't embarrassed by curling up in the same nest as another tom whose practically a stranger. Maybe he isn't.

Damned kittypet. Dustpaw feels warm.

"Consider this my apology," Dustpaw mumbles, burying his face into the moss.

Firepaw laughs at him outright. "G'night, Dustpaw. Try not to slice me to bits, yeah?"

"... Yeah."

Dustpaw is all too aware of Firepaw's side not quite pressing into his own, breathing right next to his ear. How in Starclan's name is he meant to get any sleep like this?

Dustpawblinksand the morning arrives, Firepaw's legs sprawled across him.

He hacks out some fur.Gingerfur.

"Ugh," Firepaw grumbles, voice vibrating against Dustpaw's side. "Morning already…? Bloody hell."

Starclan help him.

"So what's it like sleeping next to Dustpaw anyway?" Graypaw asks him, balancing on a branch that really seems like it shouldn't support his weight. "I know Sandpaw's no fun. She snores, too."

"He's fine," Firepaw says, legs quaking only a tad as his claws sink into the bark. "I mean, he's a bit of a prat, but he's alright once youdusthim off a little."

Graypaw laughs, nearly toppling off his branch. Firepaw tenses. "I'm gonna tell him you said that! Hehatesjokes like that!"

"Yeah, please don't?" Firepaw begs. "Really? I feel like we're only just starting to get on, and it'll be tops if only one of my denmates hates me."

"Aw, c'mon!" Graypaw waves a foreleg dismissively. "Sandpaw doesn'thateyou. She'd have already made your pelt into her new nest if she did. She just… doesn't want anything to do with you in the slightest!" His confidence wavers. "Eh… Better than nothing?"

"You're ace at boosting my confidence, mate," Firepaw sighs.

"Thanks!"

Oh! Firepaw stiffens, scenting prey at the end of the branch.'Jaws open to catch more scent,'he remembers.'This one's… thrush, right? Probably.'

Slow, steady, quiet. Front left, back right, front right, back left. And again.

Firepaw tenses, spotting the prey picking grubs off its feathers. Tail straight and high, perfectly balanced, heart pounding out of his chest at the thought of the fall. Nix that last one.

Firepaw leaps, soaring down the branch and-!

The thrush clocks him, flying off. Piss.

"Hang on, I gotcha!" Graypaw yowls, stumbling across the lower branches.

Firepaw swallows, claws dugdeepinto the branch. "Safe, mate. Safe!"

He's back on solid ground soon enough, panting like an elder.

Lionheart hums, and Firepaw is suddenly grateful for his thick ginger fur. "Well, you gotupthe tree," he says. "That's progress. Still, how does land prey sound to close today off?"

"... Sounds brilliant."

Lionheart chuckles. "Don't feel too bad. I'm not the greatest with birds myself. Makes me feel bad for the kit who winds up with my build."

"Maybe they'll all be as big as you!" Graypaw cheers. "Then Sandpaw can't make fun of me anymore!"

"Starclan have mercy on Frostfur, if that happens," Lionheart laughs. "She'll declaw me!"

"I didn't know you were having kittens," Firepaw says. "Frostfur's, ah, the… white molly?"

Lionheart bats Firepaw's head lightly. "Not the most descriptive, eh? You should know the queens by now!"

"But she hasn't moved into the nursery yet, right!?" Firepaw defends. "How was I supposed to know!?"

Graypaw cackles, the big bundle of moral support he is.

"It's alright," Lionheart chuckles. "You'll get it. Though, I'd give up good prey to see your first Gathering."

"Oh, yeah!" Firepaw perks up. "That's coming up, innit?"

"Starclan willing. We hardly got to share anything last moon. Shadowclan stirred up too much trouble."

"Sandpaw told me all about it!" Graypaw perks up. "Shadowclan's been invading Windclan territory, right?"

"So it would seem," Lionheart hums. "We certainly haven't seen much of them as of late. Good thing too, after that awful business at Sunningrocks." He frowns. "It's strange. I never would have thought Oakheart the type to kill in battle."

Firepaw blinks. That's the Riverclan deputy that had killed Dustpaw's mentor, right?

Graypaw cocks his head in a shrug. "Maybe it was an accident? Tigerclaw got revenge pretty quick, from what I heard…"

"Perhaps," Lionheart sighs. "That is what I'd like to believe. I truly thought I'd be serving Redstarin my elder years. The prospect of my own leadership is not so appealing."

"What!?" Graypaw whines. "But you'd be a great leader! You'd kick Shadowclan's tails and claw Riverclan to shreds!"

"What about Windclan?" Firepaw asks. "Is he gonna whiptheminto mincemeat too?"

"Alright, alright," Lionheart scoffs. "I appreciate the praise, but you're making me sound like a maniac. I'd prefer not to be clawing some poor cat's belly open every day."

"But youcould," Graypaw insists.

"Enough," Lionheart sighs, grinning. "You're going to give me a conniption, kit."

"Cool!" Graypaw blinks. "What's a conniption?"

Firepaw really, really tries not to guffaw.

"D'ya think I'm gonna get to attend?"

Dustpaw grunts in what Firepaw assumes is a questioning manner. Hard to read a bloke's face when one is slumped across his back.

"The Gathering, I mean."

"It's probably getting skipped," Dustpaw sighs, quirking his head just enough to free his muzzle. "The clouds have been hiding the moon these last few nights."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Don't they tell you anything?" Dustpaw scoffs, shifting slightly. "Starclan covers the moon if they see no need for a Gathering to be held. The moon's covered. That meansno Gathering."

"You don't got to treat me like a kitten, I get it." Firepaw shakes his head, accidentally bumping his chin on Dustpaw's ear. The larger tom shivers. "Sorry. I'm asking, ain't I? I swear this isn't leaking out my skull."

"Whatever," Dustpaw repeats his favorite phrase. "Just make sure it sticks."

A beat of silence passes over the den, interrupted by one of Sandpaw's grating snores. Firepaw's ear twitches.

"Hey," he mumbles. "This is alright, yeah?"

"What is?"

"Y'know… Sharing a nest and all. Didn't really think you'd agree, honestly. I was just kinda flinging shit at the wall to see what stuck."

"Are all of your kittypet metaphors this disgusting, or do you save the worst ones for me?"

"Sorry," Firepaw sighs. "I'm trying to be serious. I was worried I'd skeeved you out, 'sall."

Dustpaw grunts wordlessly. Again. Maybe Firepaw will be able to start translating them if he sticks around long enough.

"Does it help, at least?" Firepaw asks, lowering his voice even further to escape from Ravenpaw's potentially listening ears, the sneaky git. "With the nightmares?"

"Don't treat me like a kit," Dustpaw growls. "It's just comfortable. You don't like being comfortable?"

"I just-"

"Climb back into your own nest if you're just gonna bug me all night," Dustpaw hisses, bucking Firepaw off of him.

He rolls easily into the nest proper, scrabbling with his claws to face himself upright again.

"Look," Firepaw hisses, glaring dog's teeth into Dustpaw's back. "I-" he cuts himself off, sighing. "Dustpaw."

The ear closest to Firepaw twitches. Good enough.

"I'm not gonna force you to talk to me or nothing," Firepaw sighs. "But stuffing it all down will kill you. Trust me."

Firepaw can't see Dustpaw's face, but the other apprentice buries it into his - their, he supposes, if Dustpaw's really not going to kick him out - bedding anyway.

"What would you know?"

"... I was close with my littermates, before they got shoved off to humies. Only still know my sister, because she lives in the house right down the street from mine."

"How wonderful. Do you wantmylife story now?"

"Just listen." Firepaw swallows, thinking back to the sight of dull, foul-scented concrete and the sound of cooing humies. "My old tom… He was- house cats don't-" Firepaw flounders, searching for the right words.

"House cats don't really tend to know our parents, yeah? Part of the whole deal with the humies. They give you a safe place to live, but you gotta play by their rules. For some reason, they love pawning us off to each other and cooing like queens. I had four littermates, right? One by one, they all got picked out like prey, and they all disappeared into some grubby human's claws. I only found my sister again by sheer dumb luck."

Dustpaw's ears quirk high enough for Firepaw to tell he's listening. His confidence bolsters.

"We cop off, er, that is, uh,breedawful young if that's what the humies want. It's what happened to my dad. From how he told it, he couldn't even count how many kits he probably had running around."

"... Then how come you knew him?"

"I'm getting to that." Firepaw sniffs. "Anyway, my old tom. He was a crafty bastard. Found a new way out of his house every bloody night, he did. One day, he ran off entirely; said it was 'his turn to rough it on his own.' That's when I met him proper. Me and Princess, I mean. That's my sister."

"Idoknow how to infer, kittypet."

"Just making sure you're still with me. Sorry." Firepaw chuckles a tad ruefully. "Dad sure made story-telling seem easier. Um, so the old tom would visit us every day, coming up to our garden gates. Sometimes he'd even sneak me out of the yard, and we'd all have a blast together."

"... Sounds like you were happy," Dustpaw mumbles.

"Yeah. But it couldn't last, could it?" Firepaw swallows. "Took me a while to realize it, but… our days were numbered either way. That's just how it is when you're a house cat. The humies own you, right down to your claws and bleeding naughty bits."

Dustpaw snickers, back vibrating. He rolls over, meeting Firepaw's eyes. "Naughty bits? Really?"

Firepaw rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Really. They'll either make you knock some poor molly up, or lop off your bollocks so youcan't.Not sure what my owners were fixing to do, but I didn't see many mollies besides Princess."

Dustpaw shudders, face twisting in disgust.

"Yeah."

"... What happened to your father?" Dustpaw asks. "Did his twolegs take him back?"

"... The humies took him, alright," Firepaw spits. "Some fucked uppissheadwasn't controlling their motor right. The- The monsters, I mean." Firepaw's jaw clenched, throat growing tight. "Humies use them to get wherever they need to be faster than a rat up a drainpipe. Doesn't matter how fast a cat is. No outrunning a monster."

Dustpaw stays silent for a long, thick moment, tree sap trickling down the back of Firepaw's tongue, filling his throat.

"You're not as soft as I thought, I guess," Dustpaw finally mumbles, breaking his suffocating gaze on Firepaw. "If Redtail's body wasn't the first one you saw."

"... Was it yours?"

Dustpaw's quiet again.

Firepaw sighs, rolling over to press his back against the other tom's, hoping he wouldn't be shoved away.

He gasps as the taller tom's tail rests gently upon his own.

"No."

"Firepaw," Bluestar addresses him.

"Ma'am!" the ginger tom yelps, stiffening.

She smiles. "No need to be so tense. I see you've been acclimating well to clan life. Has Lionheart been teaching you well?"

"Yes!" he nods. "I'm doing well, yeah."

"And your fellow apprentices? I know Sandpaw has been giving you a hard time," she sighs, tail curling around her forepaws. "I have been lenient with her, due to the circumstances surrounding your arrival, but if she ever takes matters too far…"

"She's alright." Firepaw shakes his head. "Er, relatively speaking, I mean. Graypaw and Ravenpaw have been tops, though. Er, great, that is. Great friends."

Bluestar blinks slowly. Firepaw relaxes a little. "And Dustpaw?"

"... Bit harder to get a bead on that one," Firepaw admits. "He hasn't been horrible, no."

"Even after he attacked you?"

"That was my own fault, really," he says, shifting his gaze. "Shouldn't have woken him up, yeah? I'd be livid too."

"I see," Bluestar nods. "Be sure to tell me if you need anything, Firepaw. I wish, more than many things, to see you succeed."

Firepaw will be a filthy liar if he ever claims to not be a tad starstruck.

"I- I won't let you down, ma'am!"

"I'm glad."

"H-Hey, Bluestar," Firepaw manages. "I was wondering, uh… Did Thunderclan have a rough leaf-bare?"

"What makes you ask that?" Bluestar asks, silver eyes sharpening.

"Just something one of my denmates said, is all," Firepaw says. "Something… about losing cats. And you didn't seem too stoked when I caught that first mouse, either…"

Bluestar closes her eyes. "... Yes. Last leaf-bare was hard for Thunderclan. Redtail's loss certainly has not helped us to recover."

Firepaw looks away. "Is that why you let me join?"

"In part," Bluestar's tail comes to rest upon Firepaw's back. "But that is not the whole picture, Firepaw. Believe me when I say that I see great potential in you."

"R-Really?"

"I will not say anything I don't mean."

Firepaw can't dream of slacking off after that.

No Gathering, much to Firepaw's dismay. He wanted to see the other clans something fierce.

"Dustpaw," he calls, spotting the other tom sitting silently in the shade. "Oi!"

"Why are you talking to me where anybody can see?" Dustpaw asks dryly.

"Prick," Firepaw scoffs, curling up beside him. "You should've thought about that before agreeing to share a bleeding nest, yeah? I think that's enough to make us pals, at least."

Dustpaw just sniffs. Moody bastard.

"Firepaw!" Graypaw cheers, plodding up to the two. "You're hanging out with Dustpaw, huh? Have you forgotten me and Ravenpaw already!?"

Firepaw snorts. "We've been getting on, yeah. Maybe if you didn't pass out the second your whiskers graze your nest, you'd have realized it."

"Hey, training is tiring!" Graypaw growls playfully. "Don't make me body slam you!"

Dustpaw snorts. "Like you wouldn't eat dirt, furball. You couldn't hit the broadest branch of an oak."

"Well, maybe I should practice my aim on you!"

"I'm good. Spare yourself the embarrassment."

"Say," Firepaw interjects. "Have you seen Ravenpaw anywhere? I'm sure he's loathe to miss thisenlighteningbit of natter."

"Tigerclaw's got him doing something or other," Graypaw groans. "The guy works him like a dog! I'm so glad Lionheart's not such a stick in the mud."

Dustpaw growls, deep in his throat. "Well, I'm glad to see he's sodedicated."

Graypaw blinks. "Uh, what's the matt-"

"Hanging out with kittypets and kitties alike, huh, Duspaw?" Longtail scoffs, passing by. He stops to groom his striped fur. "At least Sandpaw's got some common sense."

"You're her new best bud, then?" Dustpaw scowls. "Weird. She's not the type to take pity."

Longtail's eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying," Dustpaw drawls, "that if a kittypet named Rusty managed to mangle you, I can't help but wonder what he'll donow."

Longtail's half-sliced off ears goes red. "You want to run that by me again?"

"So hediddamage your hearing!" Dustpaw laughs. "I had been wondering. Or is that just how thick your skull's always been?"

Wow. Cheeky prick. Firepaw's grin could split his face.

"You-!"

"Oi!" Firepaw hisses, moving in front of Dustpaw, who hadn't moved a muscle as Longtail lunged forwards. "You wanna start a fight with your own clanmate? You some sort of spackhead?"

Longtail growls wordlessly, lip curled back to give Firepaw a lovely display of his pearly whites.

"Hey," Graypaw grumbles, tensing up at Firepaw's side. Firepaw allows himself a grin at the support. "You shouldn't pick fights, Longtail. You're gonna end up right back in the Apprentice Den." He shakes his head. "Sleeping next to Sandpaw's bad enough."

Longtail eyes them all for a solid, standing second. He scoffs. "Fine. Have fun with your new buddies, Dustpaw."

He trots off, tail lashing wildly.

Firepaw sighs in relief. "Heart was pounding out of my chest, a bit. Thought that tosspot knew to leave me well enough alone."

"Yeah, Dustpaw," Graystripe laughs. "You really let him have it! What'd Longtail ever do to you?"

"Longtail's never known when to shut up," Dustpaw sighs. "Just ignore him."

"You know him well, then?" Firepaw asks. "I mean, I get the feeling everybody knows everybody except for me."

"We were apprentices together for a little bit. Sandpaw likes him more than I do." Dustpaw shakes his head. "I just couldn't stand his mentor. Darkstripe's got no brain in that skull of his."

"Darkstripe is… dark and striped, right?"

Dustpaw just stares at him blankly. Firepaw's fur itches.

"... Got it in one," Dustpaw says. "Point is, Longtail's okay, but he just pukes up a lot of what Darkstripe tells him. He's nervous about his rank as a warrior after you chopped his good looks off."

"Oh, now that's just overdramatic," Firepaw scoffs. "He's still gorgeous. Shame he's such a prat."

Dustpaw stares at him oddly. "... He's a tom."

"Yeah?"

"... Nevermind."

"Ravenpaw!" Firepaw calls, finally catching the dodgy blighter late in the day, long after evening battle training had ended.

"Oh," Ravenpaw swallows, turning around. "Firepaw. I… was just heading to the medicine den, if you don't mind."

"I'll tag along!"

"Um, okay," Ravenpaw coughs. "If you want."

Ravenpaw doesn't have much to say as they trot along to the den. Seems he never does, really. Graypaw had described him as the imaginative type. Maybe he's just shy around new faces.

"Hope you'll get used to having me around," Firepaw says, and the slimmer tom blinks. "I appreciate it, what you said back when I arrived. 'Bout making me feel welcome and all."

"O-Oh! Right." Ravenpaw's ear twitches nervously as they arrive at the den. "I'm sorry if… I didn't keep my promise, Firepaw. I do want to be friends, really."

"No prob, mate," Firepaw grins. "We got all the time in the world to get on, yeah?"

"... Yeah. Plenty of time."

"Ravenpaw! Firepaw!" Spottedleaf greets them from the back of the den, fiddling with some sticky seeds. "What brings you two in? Didn't think it'd be you two roughing each other up!"

"Oh, we weren't fighting," Ravenpaw murmurs. "I was too clumsy during training today."

"Again!?" Spottedleaf gasps. "Tigerclaw is working you far too hard! Sometimes I wonder just what in the Dark Forest he's been trying to teach you…"

"It's okay, really," Ravenpaw insists, a strange edge entering his voice. Firepaw blinks. "I just need a poultice and I'll be out of your fur."

"Alright," Spottedleaf grunts unhappily, preparing the materials. Fascinating stuff, really. Lot easy to comprehend than the Cutter, too. "And you, Firepaw?"

The ginger jolts. "Oh! I'm just moral support, yeah?"

"'Moral support.'" Spottedleaf quirks a brow.

"Righto." Firepaw grins. "Herbs can be a right turn-off, y'know? When you're tasting instead of smelling, at least."

Spottedleaf scoffs, applying the poultice to Ravenpaw's scratches without a squeak from the tom. "Bear in mind who you're saying that to, kit. Don't make me request you specifically for supply runs."

"Oh? And how do you know I wouldn't waste the whole day picking weeds? Seems like a poor allocation of my skills, don't it?"

"Don't worry. I'll just send you back out until you get it right," Spottedleaf smiles sweetly. "I'm a very patient molly."

And a right frightening one, at that. Firepaw purrs.

"Alright," Spottedleaf says, bumping her head gently against Ravenpaw's shoulder. "You're all set. I'll need to have a talk with Tigerclaw if this happens again."

"Don't," Ravenpaw says shortly, rising back to his paws. "I won't mess up anymore. It's fine."

"... Of course, Ravenpaw," Spottedleaf says, clearly not believing a word of it.

"Ah- ta, Spottedleaf," Firepaw nods, racing after Ravenpaw as he pads out of the den. "Ravenpaw!"

"Do you need something, Firepaw?" Ravenpaw asks, not necessarily unkindly. "I've got a lot to-"

"What," was all that fuckery about, Firepaw wants to ask, "was that battle like? I'm curious about fighting, see. Ain't had a chance to do more than exchange leers with the other clans."

Ravenpaw's tail stiffens. "'That battle'?"

"The one at," name, name, piss, what's the name, "S-Sunningrocks?"

"... Why do you want to know?" Ravenpaw asks the ground, apparently. Would it kill him to make a bit of eye contact?

"Just told you, mate."

Ravenpaw works his jaw uselessly for a moment. "It was… chaotic," he admits. "Furious and- and blinding. I could barely register my own thoughts over the sounds of it: cats clawing each other and hissing and yowling. The… The smell of blood drying under the sun… My own shoulder being ripped open by a Riverclanner."

Ravenpaw swallows, eyes growing glassy. Firepaw feels like he might have put his tail in it. "I- I wasn't supposed- Dustpaw should have been there too. It- It would have been our first time training together since- I- I…"

Ravenpaw turns to face Firepaw, tears leaking from his wide amber eyes. "... I let his mentor die. I can't even look him in the eyes anymore. My own…"

"Ravenpaw," Firepaw whispers. "I'm… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Ravenpaw chokes out, turning away. "But… keeping that down all this time… that hurt too. I don't… think there's any way to avoid the pain. I didn't act, and I can't go back and change it. I just… keep letting him down, huh?"

"Dustpaw?"

"I'm sorry, Firepaw," Ravenpaw says, like he's piloting his mouth from the outside. "I feel ill. I'm going to go lie down for a while. Can you please tell Tigerclaw you have no idea where I am?"

"Sure thing, mate," Firepaw promises. "Don't let it weigh on you, alright? It's not like your mentor did anything to help Redtail either, yeah?"

Ravenpaw laughs wetly, voice cracking almost hysterically. Firepaw's concern could scrape the clouds.

"No," Ravenpaw gasps. "He didn't."

"Would you care to demonstrate, Dustpaw?"

Dustpaw sighs, heeding Whitestorm's words. He creeps along the branch slowly, the finch staring blankly into the distance. Mesmerized by the river, maybe.

Dustpaw leaps. The finch dies quickly, hollow bones snapping under Dustpaw's fangs.

"Very good!" Whitestorm calls. "Seems you're getting back into the swing of things."

Dustpaw drops back into the dirt, claws flexing slightly at the jolt. "Maybe."

Sandpaw doesn't say anything, still refusing to look at him.

'Whatever. She can do what she wants.'

Dustpaw scoffs, burying his prey and marking the spot.

"Alright!" Whitestorm cheers. "Today has been much more productive than as of late. Let's collect our prey and head back to camp."

They agree tacitly, Whitestorm either not noticing or outright ignoring the foul air between the (nothis)apprentices.

Dustpaw goes to dig up the vole he had killed near the river, paws kneading through the dirt just dry enough to not be mud.

"Thunderclan," he hears. His spine stiffens, claws digging into the muck, dirtying the undersides.

"Stonefur, Mistyfoot," Whitestorm nods, encouraging smile gone. "Silverpaw. How fares Riverclan? It was certainly… an inopportune moon for the Gathering to be skipped."

"Better for you than us," Stonefur - a bluish-gray to match Mistyfoot - says, jaw set. "Missing a deputy and a father."

"I know better than most how it feels to lose a father," Whitestorm says, near-growling. Dustpaw appreciates his composure. He feels like his claws will tear off if they dig any further into the earth.

"Oh, poor you," Sandpaw hisses. "Can't imagine howthatfeels."

Dustpaw feels the beginnings of a headache form. Oakheart was a mindless killer, and they were acting like his death was some sort of loss?

"Are all you Thunderclanners so mouthy?" Silverpaw, a silver molly with black tabby stripes, hisses. "My uncle was a good tom. He shouldn't have had to die over a stupid border skirmish!"

A good tom? What would Riverclan know about good toms? Had Oakheart taught them everything they knew? Had Oakheart seen through their stubborn pride, holding no judgement for the cat underneath? Had Oakheart been there to hunt and train and eat and trade stories with them?

Dustpaw realizes he doesn't even remember what Oakheart looks like, sat upon Riverclan's deputy seat hardly past a moon ago. He'll remember Redtail's slight frame and proud grin until the day they meet again in Starclan, but he has no idea what his killer looks like.

That old feeling rises up again, like his chest is waterlogged and floating in the thin air.

"Shut up! Stop acting like you're the victims!" Sandpaw roars, tail bushing out as far as her sleek fur will allow. "You'rethe ones who killed him!"

"Enough!" Mistyfoot hisses, tail lashing. "Think about what you say before you say it, you minnow-brained kitten!"

Dustpaw howls, raking his claws over his ears. His chest burns withsomething,thatsomethingthat had plagued him ever since Fuzzypelt had died, resurging worse and worse each and every time.

His mother, his father, hismentor.

… Ravenpaw, soon enough. He's lost him, somehow. Redtail had taken some part of his brother to Starclan with him. As if losing him alone wasn't going to set Dustpaw's heart ablaze with agony.

"D-Dust… paw…?"

Dustpaw coughs, face-fur wet. "... I wanna go back to camp."

"Then we'll go," Whitestorm says quietly. "We'll talk at next moon's Gathering, Riverclan."

"Under… stood," Stonefur says awkwardly, and great Starclan they're allstaring.

The humiliation burns too. Everything does, as of late.

"It's all superficial, luckily. You didn't dig very far."

Some blood drips from the back of Dustpaw's ears.

"What were you thinking, Dustpaw? Would Redtail have wanted to see you like this?"

Spottedleaf applies the poultice.

"... I'm sorry," she sighs. "I shouldn't use him against you like that. Just ignore me."

Dustpaw kneads the dirt between his toes.

The kittypet's chatting up Ravenpaw. Graypaw, too, but that hardly matters.

Ravenpaw's laughing.

Dustpaw collapses into his- Firepaw's- his nest. Whoever's nest it is, anymore.

Stupid. Letting a kittypet into his territory. He's just lucky his Twoleg-granted fat is comfortable.

"Oi, Dustpaw." There goes any hope of sleeping alone tonight. (Dustpaw pushes down the lightness in his heart.)

Dustpaw mumbles a greeting.

"Peaky tonight, eh?" Firepaw mutters some more kittypet nonsense. What do mountains have to do with anything? They don't live anywhere near them. "Guess I should let you get some kip."

Firepaw nestles into his side. He's warm.

Dustpaw swallows, bleary eyes aching like his head had been held under the river.

"Hey, Firepaw," he mumbles.

"Yeah?

"What was your father's name?"

Firepaw shuffles a little. Dustpaw is close enough to hear his esophagus contract in a swallow.

"Jake."

"What does that mean?"

"Dunno. It was just his name."

Dustpaw hums. At least 'Rusty' had made sense.

"... My father's name was Fuzzypelt." Dustpaw's heart pounds a little faster in his chest as the words slip out. "Do you remember what yours looked like?"

"Of course. Like me, but a bloody giant. He could carry me and Princess on his back 'til the day he… Well, the day he couldn't anymore."

Dustpaw holds on to that thought for a long moment, like Sandkit would have with a particularly interesting stone.

"Good," he whispers. "Hold on to that, okay?"

"Do you remember what Fuzzypelt looked like?"

Dustpaw doesn't answer. Somehow, he knows Firepaw still understands.

Dustpaw pushes himself further into the kittypet's fur, eyes drifting shut.