A light drizzle in the middle of greenleaf splashed on Pearkit's shoulders as he shook out his dark gray tabby coat. The tomkit scowled, knowing it was no weather to play outside. But energy burst through his limbs, and he wanted to do something. He didn't want to laze around in the nursery all day. He turned his head over and saw Rootkit, staring deep in thought at the nursery wall. Pearkit bounded over to his brother and tore a chunk of moss from their nest. He tossed it over at the black-and-white kit.
"Catch!" Pearkit exclaimed.
Rootkit looked over as the moss ball hit him squarely in the shoulder. "It's a different color than the rest of the nest," the tom remarked slowly. "It's beautiful. Instead of shredding it, we should keep it."
"Again?" Pearkit scoffed in irritation. "It's always about beauty with you, Rootkit! You never want to play anything interesting. The only thing you like to do is hide-and-seek or collect pebbles and stones across camp. How is any of that interesting?"
Rootkit's face crumpled, and he rested his long tail on Pearkit's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Pearkit. I didn't know that not playing would make you upset. Sometimes I just like to play different things, that's all. We can't go out in this weather anyway – Mother would be disappointed in us if we came back with soaking pelts."
"Which is why I want to do something here," Pearkit complained.
"We could talk," Rootkit suggested.
"Talk," Pearkit echoed, staring at his brother as if he had just grown two heads. Why couldn't he be normal, like Lightningkit and Flamekit? "About what?"
"Rain is good," Rootkit meowed. "It allows the flowers to bloom, more beautiful than before."
"Oh, jeez." Pearkit let out a sigh. Why did his brother have to be so adle-brained? He glanced around the nursery, wondering if Lightningkit or Flamekit were awake. But the two kits were snuggled at their mother's side, their snores coming in soft breaths. Pearkit scowled as Rootkit continued to stare at the wall, clearly deep in thought. Then I'll just find something to do myself, Pearkit thought mutinously as he turned away from his brother. The rain never scared me anyway.
Pearkit exited the thick bramble thicket that housed the nursery. Across the corner of camp, as the greenleaf rain started to quicken in its strength, he could spot the sleek coat and broad shoulders of his father, Coalshadow. Pearkit immediately broke into a run and dashed across the barren camp – all the cats had hidden in their dens for shelter. Pearkit bumped into Coalshadow's large paws and looked up at his father.
"Pearkit?" Coalshadow's eyes were round. "What are you doing out of the nursery, away from your mother, and in this weather?" His father's pelt was soaked and the scent of squirrel and mouse wafted from his dark fur, indicating that he had been out hunting.
"Rootkit doesn't want to play with me, and Mother is asleep," Pearkit explained, blinking the raindrops out of his eyes. "I'm bored!"
"Hmm." Coalshadow's eyes twinkled with amusement. "That is a dilemma now, isn't it." He leaned his broad muzzle into Pearkit's face. "So what should we do about it?"
"Wouldn't you know?" Pearkit asked.
"Do you want me to show you how to catch a squirrel?" Coalshadow offered, angling his ears towards the tree that surrounded the camp. "I think I hear one."
Pearkit shook his head. "No. Brookpaw already showed me. Show me a battle move!"
A flash of hesitation swept over Coalshadow's face, but it was so fleeting that Pearkit was sure he imagined it. "Well… I don't see the harm in showing you, especially with WindClan and ShadowClan prowling at our borders."
"Do you think they would invade camp?" Pearkit asked.
Coalshadow sighed. "I wish I could pick the minds of Swiftstar and Lionstar, but unfortunately, I can't. That's why Sootfall and Flintstar lead ThunderClan, not me."
"To be a good leader, you have to read minds?" Pearkit inquired, puzzled.
"No, that's not what I meant. Listen carefully." Coalshadow cleared his throat. "If you know your enemy as well as you know yourself, you will never lose a battle."
Pearkit listened to his father, feeling his amber eyes grow round. "But you just said you can't understand Lionstar or Swiftstar. You win a lot of battles, though."
"Because cats like Sootfall and Flintstar are leading them." Coalshadow chuckled. "I like to think I'm a good warrior, but strategy definitely isn't my strongest part. Maybe you'll catch on, though." He flicked his tail on top of Pearkit's head.
"So being a strategist means you're a good leader?" Pearkit asked.
"It's part of it," Coalshadow answered. "But there are plenty of other aspects to being a good leader."
"Like…?" Pearkit leaned forward.
Coalshadow's eye whiskers furrowed. "Why are you so interested?" he asked, his voice only slightly teasing. "Don't tell me you plan to usurp Flintstar, now!"
"No!" Pearkit shook his head. "I'm just interested, that's all. I'll be a warrior one day, and if I lead a battle, I want to win it. That means knowing myself and my enemy, right?"
"Right." Coalshadow nodded. "But that's for your mentor to teach you, not me. I'll stick to teaching you something simple, all right?"
Pearkit mumbled in agreement, knowing that was the best he was going to get from Coalshadow. He watched with pricked ears as Coalshadow steadied his shoulders, bracing them tightly. With a clenched jaw, he unsheathed his back claws and kicked out his hind legs as far and powerful as he possibly could. Pearkit watched, awestruck, imagining the damage that could do to an enemy. Wow…!
"Fighting's nothing you need to worry about now, though," Coalshadow meowed. He glanced up at the sky, and Pearkit followed his gaze, noting a slight slant of sunlight drifting through the dark gray and gloomy clouds. The rain was starting to lighten up, and Pearkit no longer felt his pelt trembling with cold. "Go find your denmates – or maybe one of the apprentices. See if they'll play with you. I have to do the dawn patrol."
Pearkit nodded, a tad disturbed by how quickly Coalshadow changed the subject. As his father walked away, calling out to Falconheart and Longbranch, who had just exited the warriors' den, the gray tabby kit found himself near the fern-covered cave where the apprentices slept. Pearkit peered in, wondering if any of the apprentices were rising. As if his thoughts roused them, Pearkit spotted a brown-and-white tabby she-cat padding out of the cave, her sleek fur shining in the morning light as the rain lessened to a drizzle. Her eye whiskers arched as she glanced down at Pearkit.
"Did I miss your apprentice ceremony?" the apprentice asked sarcastically.
"Great to see you too, Brookpaw!" Pearkit's tail curled up.
Brookpaw rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here, Pearkit? You should be back in the nursery."
"My brother doesn't want to play with me, and Lightningkit and Flamekit are asleep," Pearkit told her, sitting down. "So I'm bored."
"And you want me to entertain you." Brookpaw's tail twitched in irritation. "That's not part of my training, you know. I'm not assigned to babysit nosy kits."
"Can't you just show me something?" Pearkit pleaded.
Brookpaw glanced over her shoulders, her green eyes narrowed. "Well, I was supposed to gather moss for the elders today," she mused, half to herself. "I guess if we don't go too far, I can bring you with me."
"Yes!" Pearkit jumped up and down with excitement. "You're the best, Brookpaw!"
Brookpaw shrugged. "I guess I can tell all my denmates that Pearkit thinks I'm the best. I'm sure that'll get me some points with them. Come on, or I'll leave you behind." Brookpaw immediately crossed the stone hollow, and Pearkit was right on her heels. The brown-and-white tabby approached the thorn tunnel, which was the entrance of ThunderClan's camp. The thorns scraped Brookpaw's shoulders, but did nothing to Pearkit, considering his small size compared to hers. Pearkit's heart beat wildly in his chest as he exited camp for the first time. He skidded to a halt as he looked up, seeing the massive expanse of oak and birch trees crawling in all direction for fox-lengths around him.
"Wow," Pearkit breathed out. The forest was nothing like he had imagined—bigger, brighter, and more beautiful. Every leaf seemed to glow with its own light, casting dappled shadows across the mossy ground. The air was filled with the vibrant songs of birds, and the subtle rustling of small creatures in the undergrowth spoke of a world teeming with life.
Brookpaw inhaled the greenleaf winds. "There's a good place for moss not far from here," she told Pearkit. "Stay close. It's my tail on the line if anything happens to you."
Pearkit nodded and followed the brown-and-white tabby apprentice as she expertly cut through the trees. She leaped over fallen leaves and avoided bramble patches and thorn bushes, while the gray tabby kit followed her slowly and clumsily, crushing the leaves underneath him and tripping on stones and pebbles. Pearkit lifted his head and tasted the air, trying to search for prey, but he couldn't make out any of the scents he recognized from the fresh-kill pile.
"We're not hunting," Brookpaw said lowly, as if she guessed what Pearkit was doing. She skidded to a halt when she approached a clump of trees that grew, closely knit, their arching roots laden with moss. "We're gathering moss for the elders, remember?"
"But I thought that you hunted and fought as an apprentice!" Pearkit exclaimed.
"Yeah, but that's not all we do," Brookpaw meowed as she approached one of the trees and lashed out her paw. "Do what I do. See? Arch out your claws until it hurts, like you're scooping up a snowb – I mean, like you're playing moss-ball. Then pull it from the tree and roll it up into a ball. Keep doing it until you can't carry anymore."
"All right." Pearkit felt a tad disappointed although that he was in the forest, all he was doing was collecting moss with Brookpaw. At least I'm out in the forest. I bet Rootkit can't say the same for that! He reached out with his paw, arching his claws until they ached, per Brookpaw's instructions, and clawed a chunk of moss from the tree. "But Brookpaw, what else do you do?"
Brookpaw was collecting more moss. "We take care of the elders, check their pelt for ticks, give them prey, change their bedding. We help with some of the duties around camp. I can't count the amount of times I've had to build dens. Of course we train to fight and hunt, but that's not the only thing about being an apprentice – or a warrior, really."
"That's what Coalshadow said to me, too," Pearkit commented as he found himself rivaling Brookpaw's moss pile. "I just keep hearing about the best hunts and the best fights though."
"It's all the warriors ever brag about," Brookpaw explained. "But it's not even close to being a warrior or an apprentice. Your first duty is to your Clanmates. Maybe that's hunting for them or fighting for them. But it's also taking care of them. Like making sure the elders are clear of ticks or the dens are sturdy for them to sleep in or participating in operations that protect the Clan. The other day, Flintstar had me and Heatherice build a trap to stop a badger from entering our territory. Did we fight? Did we hunt? No. But we protected our Clan by stopping the badger from coming onto our land."
Pearkit was taking in everything Brookpaw was saying. "Do you enjoy being a warrior apprentice?" Pearkit asked her.
"I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world," Brookpaw replied, "even if these are the duties I can be tasked with." She rolled up the moss into a tight ball and nodded to Pearkit, her demeanor brisk and determined. "Do what I'm doing."
"Okay." Pearkit watched as Brookpaw sculpted her moss into a circular ball, and he followed her lead, clumping the moss together and rolling it until it was a ball. He sank his teeth into the moss, and followed Brookpaw as the brown-and-white tabby led him back to camp. When the two cats approached the thorn tunnel, Brookpaw dropped the moss ball and turned on Pearkit.
"Don't tell any cat I brought you out in the forest, or I'll rip out your throat," she growled. "Got it? You can come with me to bring the moss to the elders, but I'm just going to say that I let you help me when I brought it back."
Pearkit nodded. He knew that kits weren't supposed to leave the camp, and he was thankful that Brookpaw brought him out in the first place. Brookpaw gave him a small nod and picked up the moss, leading the way to the elders' den. The elders' den was underneath the boughs of a fallen beech tree, reinforced with honeysuckle. Brookpaw squeezed her way through the tree, and Pearkit was right after her.
"Robinfire? Flurrypetal?" Brookpaw called out. "Are you in here?"
"When are we not?" rasped a voice, cracked with age. Pearkit narrowed his eyes to see two cats – one was an aging reddish-brown tom, his whiskers turning gray, his pelt dull. The other was a strikingly beautiful gray she-cat with white speckles, but she too was around the same age of the red-brown tom, the furs on her muzzle darker gray than her pelt.
"Sorry, Robinfire, it's just that you still insist on hunting in the forest, I can't tell when you're here or not," Brookpaw said dryly as she dropped the moss on the ground.
"Have you ever spoken with respect for your elders?" Robinfire asked, stretching out in his nest. Even though his words were stern, his eyes glowed with affection.
"I speak the truth." Brookpaw spread the moss and started to build a nest with it, kneading the moss with her pure white paws, her attention focused completely on her work.
"Who's that behind you, Brookpaw?" asked the gray she-cat, who was lying next to Robinfire.
"That's Pearkit, Flurrypetal." Brookpaw smoothed out the moss with a white paw. "He's Rootkit's brother."
"We see Rootkit in here all the time," Robinfire rasped, "but never you, Pearkit. Why?"
Pearkit scuffed the ground with his paws and decided to follow Brookpaw's lead again, sculpting the moss into a nest that the elders could use. "I usually just hang around my dad or my denmates, that's all. Rootkit is more into being told stories than I am."
"Ah, your father is Coalshadow, is he not?" Flurrypetal asked.
Pearkit nodded.
"He's a good warrior, that one," Flurrypetal meowed. "We thought that he would never be the same after he lost Nightpaw." A far-off look glazed the she-cat's eye, and curiosity pricked in Pearkit's pelt.
"What?" Pearkit stopped sculpting the moss, but immediately continued when Brookpaw nudged him sharply. "Who's Nightpaw?"
"When your father was young, he and his brother, Nightpaw, went out on a night expedition," Robinfire explained. "They ran into badgers, and the badgers killed Nightpaw. Coalshadow barely made it out with his life. He's always blamed himself for the death of Nightpaw, and if it hadn't been for Brindlestar, encouraging him out of his depression, I don't think your father would be the great warrior he was today."
Pearkit was quiet as he took in this new information. His head whirled with questions about his father's past, a chapter of Coalshadow's life he never knew existed. He looked up at Brookpaw, hoping she might offer some reassurance or further insight, but she remained focused on her task, her expression unreadable.
"He places real emphasis on family," Flurrypetal added. "Perhaps that is because he lost his brother in such a foolish move."
"Did ThunderClan blame him?" Brookpaw asked, clearly listening to the story as well. But she was still involved in her task as she added, "Here, Robinfire. I've got the new nest for you."
"Thank you, young one." Robinfire got to his shaky paws, padding over to the nest Brookpaw had built for him. Brookpaw padded over to the old nest and rolled it into a ball, tossing it aside. "Yes, ThunderClan blamed him for Nightpaw's death for a long time. But it wasn't their judgement that plagued Coalshadow. It was his own guilt."
"Brindlestar saved him?" Pearkit asked as Brookpaw pulled Pearkit's newly built nest over to Flurrypetal. Flurrypetal padded over to the new nest as Brookpaw discarded her old one. "How did she do that?"
"Brindlestar was his mentor," Flurrypetal replied, settling down in the nest that Pearkit had built. He watched her anxiously, wondering if there was anything wrong with it. But Flurrypetal didn't complain. She rested her tail on top of her nose and gazed deeply into Pearkit's eyes. "She allowed him to grieve for some time, but it got to a point where he sought to end his own life, to atone for his guilt."
"What?" Pearkit gasped in horror. "Are you saying… my father wanted to kill himself?"
Flurrypetal nodded. "But Brindlestar stopped him before he could. She told him that he would have something to live for one day, something so strong that the only thing he would die for was that. I think he found it in you and Rootkit."
"Just don't tell him we told you this, all right?" Robinfire winked at Pearkit. "I think that regardless of our age, he'd rip us apart."
Pearkit didn't find the humor in Robinfire's words. He had never known that his father suffered such a dark time in his life, where the only option he had sought was to end his own life. I'm so glad he didn't, Pearkit thought to himself. He must've felt so guilty, thinking that he killed his brother. What if that happened to Rootkit? What if I got Rootkit killed? Pearkit knew he quarreled with his brother often because of their contrasting personalities, but that didn't mean he didn't love him. He would protect Rootkit with his life – always. I'll learn from Coalshadow's mistakes, he vowed. I'll protect Rootkit, and I'll do the same thing Brindlestar said. I'll find something to live for, something I'll die for.
Flurrypetal nudged the nest. "This will be fine," she told Brookpaw. "Thank you, Brookpaw. And you, little one," she added, turning to Pearkit. "You'll turn out to be a fine apprentice. Maybe you'll be as great a warrior as your father."
Pearkit beamed, imagining himself as a warrior, trekking alongside his father in the territory, both of them carrying fat squirrels in their jaws, their names left behind in legacies as they were the greatest warriors in the forest. It was such a promising future that Pearkit unsheathed his claws. I want it now. He looked at the exit of the elder's den. Brookpaw was gone. He doubted that she would give him training if he asked. But how else am I going to be a great warrior? He gazed at Flurrypetal and gave her a nod before scampering on his heels and bounding away from the elders, into the clearing.
Flintstar and Sootfall were talking to each other at the bottom of the Highledge, their gazes flashing, their ears twitched. Vinestep and Falconheart listened from a few fox-lengths away. Pearkit studied the muscular shoulders and glossy pelts of the powerful warriors who listened to their Clan leader, determined to fight and serve their Clan. Who knew where Pearkit's path would take him one day?
I want to be a strong warrior. I want to fight for my Clan. His pelt pricked with excitement, and he felt his belly fur bristle. I want to be as good as my father.