Rootpaw brushed away the stale remains of Brookfeather's nest in the nursery, scraping it into a ball that he would discard when he was finished sculpting her nest. The brown-and-white tabby shifted her paws underneath her, trying to get comfortable. Rootpaw looked up to examine her and was shocked to see guilt flickering in her forest-green eyes. He got to his paws and studied the queen nervously.
"What's wrong?" Rootpaw asked her.
Brookfeather dug her claws in the ground. "Ashenhawk told me the reason I've been in pain the last few days was because I was expecting and I didn't know," she said. "I was so snippy with Dovepaw when we were training in the trees because of the pain. What if I caused her to fall out of the tree with how short-tempered I was?" Panic shadowed her eyes. "What if I'm the cause of her accident?"
A wave of silence fell between the queen and the apprentice as they gazed at each other. Rootpaw shook out his coat and met Brookfeather's gaze steadily. She really blames herself. But it wasn't her fault—and it wasn't Dovepaw's fault, either. Sometimes these things happen, and we can't control it.
"It wasn't your fault," Rootpaw said after a few moments. "Not yours, not mine, not Vinestep's, and not Dovepaw's."
"I should've stopped her from climbing the trees," Brookfeather groaned.
"Would she have listened?" Rootpaw asked quietly.
Brookfeather flashed him a glance of surprise. "How is she?"
"Ashenhawk says she's doing better," Rootpaw replied, sifting through the nest he had made for Brookfeather to pick out any sharp strands of moss or thorns. "Her leg looks well. Later on, she's going to try some exercises with her." He pulled out a stray rock from the moss and tossed it away, thinking that the kits would like to play with it. "There, you're done."
The brown-and-white tabby she-cat padded over and settled inside the new nest Rootpaw had made her. Rootpaw grabbed the old stale nest and rolled it into a ball, grasping it under his chin. He waved his tail in farewell to Brookfeather and caught the words that rolled out of the she-cat's mouth just as he exited the den.
"Rootpaw, when you see Dovepaw… tell her I'm sorry."
Still holding the moss in his jaws, Rootpaw acknowledged Brookfeather's softly-spoken apology with a twitch of his ears and discarded the old moss next to the dirtplace. He wriggled through the dirtplace tunnel back into camp and gave his black-and-white coat a quick grooming. He scanned the clearing until he saw Pearpaw walking towards the elders' den with a rabbit between his jaws.
Rootpaw thought back to their adventure to RiverClan territory just a couple of days ago. He had seen the desperation in Pearpaw's eyes when he had stated he had to see Snowpaw, and when Rootpaw asked him about it, Pearpaw had said that they had been just friends. Rootpaw believed him—after all, Pearpaw was his brother and had never lied to him before. Pearpaw was too loyal to ThunderClan, and to the idea of being a good warrior, that he could never imagine him breaking the warrior code by falling in love with a cat from another Clan. No matter what, I trust Pearpaw. He watched as his brother disappeared into the elders' den.
Turning on his tail, Rootpaw wondered where Vinestep was. When he couldn't spot his mentor in the clearing, he let out a shrug and headed over to the rock which housed Ashenhawk. He poked his head inside, and a purr rumbled in his throat as he saw Dovepaw sitting up straight. Her blue eyes glittered with joy as she saw Rootpaw. Rootpaw bounded over to her and touched noses with her.
"Is your leg feeling better?" Rootpaw asked her.
Dovepaw nodded. "Lots!" she meowed, curling her tail in joy.
"Can you walk?" Rootpaw inquired, tilting his head.
"I can try." Dovepaw got to all fours and winced as she placed her back leg down on the ground. She slowly trekked forward, her leg flexing, and although she was walking, Rootpaw could see how much pain it was causing her. The two cats flinched when a hiss resonated through the air, and they turned around to see Ashenhawk.
"What do you think you're doing, Dovepaw?" Ashenhawk demanded, the fury of her voice causing Dovepaw to sit down again. "We haven't introduced the exercises you'll be needing to strengthen that leg! You're going to be able to be a warrior, but when that leg is healed, and to heal it, you have to start slow!"
Dovepaw glanced at Rootpaw. Rootpaw purred in amusement—he had never seen a small medicine cat so feisty before. But I know it's because she cares, he thought. Ashenhawk padded around Dovepaw and sniffed her leg. Then she twitched her tail towards Rootpaw. "Stop bothering her." Then she turned on her heel and marched away. "I'll be back in a bit."
"I have an idea," Rootpaw told Dovepaw after a few moments. Ever since he had found the cave where he had been storing his first feather, he had put all the finds he had made in the forest in that cave. There were several feathers and flowers and stones in there. He could find something to do with Dovepaw. "I'll be back." He left the medicine den and climbed up towards the cave, searching his collection. There! An array of feathers from all different birds greeted him. He scooped them up with his jaws and bounded back towards the medicine den, where Dovepaw sat.
"What's this?" Dovepaw asked.
Rootpaw put the feathers down. "Feathers," he replied. "I thought you'd like to look at them."
"You know…" Dovepaw gazed at the feathers. "There might be something we can make out of them."
"Like what?" Rootpaw asked.
Dovepaw studied the feathers Rootpaw had brought, her blue eyes shimmering with an idea. "I fold feather-flowers with my brother," she suggested. "I saw a bird once with feathers like these, and they reminded me of the petals of a flower. So I began to fold feather-flowers and then I taught Bearpaw how to. I can teach you, too."
Rootpaw's interest was piqued. "How do you do that?" he asked, sitting down beside her and focusing intently on the feathers.
"Here, watch," Dovepaw replied. She selected a vibrant blue feather, its colors shifting in the light. "You have to be gentle," she instructed, her claws delicately manipulating the feather. She folded it along its natural curve, creating a gentle arc. "See, you fold it like this," she continued, her movements slow and precise, "then tuck this end under here."
Rootpaw tried to mimic her movements with another feather, but his first attempt was clumsy, the feather crinkling under his less practiced paws. "It's harder than it looks," he mewed, a bit of frustration in his voice.
Dovepaw nodded sympathetically. "It takes a bit of practice. Here, let me help you." She leaned over to guide his paws, showing him how to apply just the right amount of pressure. "You want to fold it gently, follow the natural line. That way, it'll look more like a petal."
With Dovepaw's guidance, Rootpaw's second attempt was more successful. The feather bent gracefully, resembling the petal of a flower. "Like this?" he asked, looking up at Dovepaw for approval.
"Yes, exactly!" Dovepaw's eyes sparkled. "Now, if we put a few of these together, we can make it look like a full flower."
Together, they worked on folding more feathers, arranging them in a circular pattern to mimic the shape of a blooming flower. Dovepaw's skillful paws worked alongside Rootpaw's, and soon they had created a small bouquet of feather-flowers.
Rootpaw looked at their creation, a sense of achievement filling him. "They're beautiful," he said, admiring the delicate shapes and vibrant colors.
Dovepaw beamed. "They really are. And you did a great job, Rootpaw."
"Thanks, Dovepaw." Rootpaw's heart swelled with warmth. Now there was something the both of them could do without aggravating Dovepaw's condition. The two of them continued to work on folding flowers until Ashenhawk appeared again, glancing at Rootpaw.
"I have to treat Dovepaw's leg," she mewed. "You can come back later."
"Okay." Disappointment pricked at Rootpaw's heart. He wanted to spend more time with Dovepaw, but he understood why Ashenhawk was sending him out. He pushed the rest of the feathers towards Dovepaw. "It might not be as fun if you're making it alone. I'll come back, and we can make more together."
Dovepaw gazed at Rootpaw. "Thanks, Rootpaw," she purred.
Rootpaw dipped his head towards Dovepaw, relieved to see she had gained the spirit back that he had feared she lost. He walked out of the den, his heart alight with the positive news of Dovepaw's recovery. He swung his small head around and spotted Pearpaw bounding over to him. His brother's amber eyes were glowing.
"Did you hear?" Pearpaw demanded, looking Rootpaw up and down.
"Uh?" Rootpaw tilted his head.
"Our assessment!" Pearpaw exclaimed. "It's today! Oakfire just told me. Did Vinestep tell you?"
"I haven't seen him," Rootpaw confessed, but Pearpaw's words sent excitement crackling through his body. Our assessment? Am I finally going to be a warrior? His fur fluffed up as he imagined his warrior name. Rootheart, Rootfall, Rootflower, Rootpetal… so many! "Where should we go?"
"Oakfire told me to meet him in the training clearing," Pearpaw explained. "Vinestep will probably be there. Come on!" His sleek fur shone in the sunlight as he scampered out of camp, excitement blazing in his amber eyes. Rootpaw was on his heels as the cats exited the stone hollow and traveled through the forest, the sun dappling their pelts—so unalike in the black-and-white shades of Rootpaw and the gray tabby pelt of Pearpaw—but similar in their thickness and length.
Rootpaw spotted Oakfire and Vinestep, sitting side-by-side in the training clearing as they angled their heads to look up at the two apprentices. Rootpaw entered the hollow and into the clearing. He bowed his head towards the two older cats, while Pearpaw scrambled next to him and lifted his head, squaring his shoulders.
"Pearpaw told you," Vinestep said to Rootpaw. "We've decided that, with the approaching scents on the ShadowClan and WindClan border, we need all the warriors out there. You two have proven that you're both strong and capable apprentices, and the only way to put that to the test is to give you your assessments."
Pearpaw let out a small chirp. "What will we be expected to do?" he asked.
"First, there'll be a hunting assessment," Oakfire meowed. "Rootpaw, we want you to try near the Sky Oak, and Pearpaw, we want you to try the stream near WindClan. Just be sure not to cross it."
The gray tabby nodded.
"After you've caught a sizeable amount of prey, you'll be ambushed by one of us. I won't say who it is—but you see that there's a difference between Oakfire and I," Vinestep went on. Rootpaw studied the two cats—Oakfire was sturdy and well-built, with broad shoulders and wide muscles. Vinestep was lithe and short, long legs and skinny with a body built for running. Reminds me of a WindClan cat. These cats have different strengths and it'd take different battle moves to figure out how to defeat them. Wait! I know!
Oakfire was reminiscent of a ShadowClan cat, while Vinestep looked a lot like a WindClan warrior. Our enemies. They're both going to attack us to see if we can defeat our enemies. Immediately Rootpaw began to draw out battle techniques in his mind that would defeat both of the cats. He was brought back to reality by Vinestep cuffing him over the ear gently.
"After those two parts, we'll discuss your progress between us and decide if we should refer you to Flintstar to be made warriors," Oakfire meowed. "Is that understood?"
The two brothers nodded.
"Very well." Oakfire lifted his head. "Then start your assessment and may StarClan give you the luck you need. We will be watching both of you, although you will not see us."
Rootpaw wanted to start as soon as he could. He gazed at Pearpaw and meowed, "Good luck!"
"You too," Pearpaw told him. His brother gave him a brief nod before disappearing into the forest. Rootpaw watched his gray pelt fade into the foliage, and then gave his mentor a nod before he too disappeared into the forest. He followed old pawsteps, possibly from the dawn patrol, until he approached the Sky Oak. He gazed up at the arching tree and recalled how he and Dovepaw had climbed the trees around the oak until Dovepaw had fallen. Don't think about that, he thought. Focus on your assessment.
He looked up and saw a brown figure racing down one of the branches. Squirrel. Rootpaw watched as the squirrel leaped down from the branch and bounded towards the root of the oak, where it fished for a few nuts before breaking it open with its long front teeth. Rootpaw dropped into the hunter's crouch, his tail swaying a little over the grass as he prowled towards the squirrel. He made sure that his scent was being blown away from the squirrel, and just as he was a few mouse-lengths away from it, he leaped from the bushes and landed on top of the squirrel, killing it with a quick bite to its throat.
Quickly digging up a hole and putting the squirrel in it, and letting out a silent thanks to StarClan, Rootpaw moved through the forest and tasted the air for another animal. He could taste the whiff of a shrew and followed the scent until he saw the tiny mole-like rodent. He crouched down, watching as the shrew was absorbed in nibbling some grass. He leaped onto the shrew and cut it down quickly. If I go on like this more, I should be able to pass the hunting part, easy.
A mouse and another shrew later, Rootpaw now waited for the inevitable attack from either Oakfire or Vinestep. If Oakfire, who's strong and robust like a ShadowClan cat, jumps on me, I'll use my speed and grace to outwit him. If Vinestep, fast and skinny like a WindClan cat attacks me, I'll try and crush him. Rootpaw arched his claws and tasted the air. Vinestep? Oakfire?
He wandered until he was close to the ShadowClan border. Should he try his hand at another hunt? He stiffened as he tasted the air. Wait, that's ShadowClan… It was coming from across the stream, far too fresh to be their border. ShadowClan is on our territory! He wanted to race and report it to Vinestep or Oakfire, but he knew he couldn't go to them with half a story. The scent wafted over the border and crawled up north. Near the greenleaf Twolegplace? And why are they attacking right in the middle of the day? He prowled through the forest, hiding himself in the dying foliage of the greenleaf forest until he caught sight of pelts that definitely did not belong to ThunderClan.
Multiple cats were moving in a straight line, their shoulders braced, their tails lashing, in utter silence. Not even their pawsteps gave them away. At the head of them Rootpaw could spot a big golden tabby cat. The thick fur around his neck gave a name to this tom—it was Lionstar, ShadowClan's leader. Rootpaw's breath caught in his throat. An attack patrol, led by their leader! And they're heading towards the greenleaf Twolegplace. I can't keep following them. I need to tell someone. He turned on his heel and raced away from the moving patrol, keeping his nose on alert for the scent of Vinestep or Oakfire. Or any ThunderClan cat, really.
Rootpaw collided with a tree branch and collapsed on his back legs, rubbing his forehead with his paw. Ow! His nose started to throb, and he looked behind the tree to see Oakfire approaching him. The tom stared at him, his gaze full of disapproval and irritation.
"In case you didn't know, I'm supposed to attack you, you're not supposed to attack trees," the tom growled.
"Oakfire, there's a ShadowClan patrol invading our land!" Rootpaw told him, in no mood to listen to his belittlement. There was a real danger that had to be addressed. Oakfire's expression immediately changed and he stared at Rootpaw.
"How many cats? Where? Do you know who's leading it?"
"I don't know," Rootpaw replied, "but there's a lot of them. They're near the greenleaf Twolegplace, and Lionstar was leading them."
"Lionstar!" Oakfire lashed his tail furiously. "Rootpaw, I need you to find the sunhigh patrol. They're heading towards the ShadowClan border, and if they're not warned, they're going to walk straight into an ambush. I'll go find Pearpaw and Vinestep. We'll meet right back here."
Rootpaw nodded. The fear had felt had melted to a firm burning of adrenaline that kindled in his heart. The two cats separated as Rootpaw raced back towards the ShadowClan patrol. The sunhigh patrol… who did Sootfall put on that? He tried to remember the patrols from the morning, but they wouldn't come to him. He'd just have to wait for the patrol to arrive. He crouched down and arched his back. Come on, there's no time to waste!
The black-and-white apprentice felt as if he was waiting for ages when he saw Maplefall's dark tortoiseshell pelt, leading the patrol of Finchwing, Sorrelfur, Whitejay, and Ryeshade. Rootpaw leaped out of the ferns he was hiding in and landed in front of Maplefall. Maplefall stepped back, her amber eyes wide as she stared at Rootpaw.
"Rootpaw?" she asked, her amber eyes wide. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be taking your assessment?"
"There's a ShadowClan ambush up the stream, near the greenleaf Twolegplace," Rootpaw warned the she-cat.
Ryeshade's amber eyes narrowed. "We were about to go up there."
"You'd have walked straight into the ambush," Rootpaw murmured.
Whitejay and Sorrelfur exchanged a bewildered look. Finchwing arched his claws and dug up soil from the ground. Maplefall turned her head and addressed Rootpaw. "Who else knows?"
"Oakfire does," Rootpaw meowed. "He went to get Vinestep and Pearpaw and he wants to meet us here."
"So we're going to attack?" Ryeshade asked, twitching her ears.
"We have to!" Finchwing declared, lashing his tail. "We can't just let them roam on our territory without doing anything about it."
Maplefall nodded. "I agree with Finchwing, but it's Oakfire's call when he arrives." She sat on her haunches and started to nibble the sheathes off her claws. Rootpaw watched the patrol as they exchanged hushed words among themselves, discussing potential strategies to combat the ShadowClan patrol. Rootpaw couldn't help but remember how Lionstar had looked when he was leading his patrol—he had held his head high, his claws were unsheathed, and bloodlust had glimmered in his green eyes. How can we fight a cat as strong as that? he thought miserably. He had fought in a few skirmishes before, but never in an ambush orchestrated by another Clan. And it's in the middle of my assessment, too!
Oakfire and Vinestep appeared from a clump of dying ferns, with Pearpaw at their heels. They leaped in front of the ThunderClan patrol. Pearpaw padded next to Rootpaw, blinking at him curiously. Rootpaw opened his mouth to explain, but Oakfire's voice, smooth and commanding with the authority of a leader, cut them off.
"We don't have time to go back to camp to talk to Flintstar or Sootfall," Oakfire said. "But let me be clear that we will not allow ShadowClan to stage an ambush on our territory without doing anything about it. We'll take the battle to them and make them ever regret putting a paw on ThunderClan soil." He turned and stared at Rootpaw. "You saw them go. You lead the way."
Rootpaw froze in his tracks as the expectant ThunderClan cats turned to stare at him. Oakfire wants me to lead?! How could he lead them to a ShadowClan ambush? He was still an apprentice! But Oakfire's gaze immediately turned sharp as Rootpaw lingered, and Rootpaw realized he couldn't stay idle much longer. He began to lead the way up the stream, and then stiffened. Wait, this is what Lionstar wants! He wants us to walk into their ambush. Rootpaw glanced over his shoulder as Oakfire approached him.
"What is it, kit?" Oakfire demanded.
"I think we should outflank them," Rootpaw explained. "If we keep walking straight, we're just going to go into the ambush like Lionstar wants us to. But if we outflank them, we can appear where we're not expected."
For the first time, Oakfire gave Rootpaw an approving look. "We might make a warrior out of you after all," he said softly. "Very well. Do you know how to do an outflanking maneuver?"
"I think so," Rootpaw replied.
"Then do it." Oakfire flicked his tail and fell in step behind Rootpaw. Rootpaw steered away from the route Lionstar wanted them to take. He must have had someone watch the patrols for a long time to guess what direction they'd take. Rootpaw kept a wide distance between his patrol and the border and arrived at the greenleaf Twolegplace. The late greenleaf wind sent a shudder in his pelt and he avoided stepping on fallen leaves that would give his location away. He hoped that his Clanmates were doing the same thing. When he approached the greenleaf Twolegplace in the stretch of the wide clearing, he could see the ShadowClan cats, prepared in a perfect battle line. He winced and continued the trek where the trees could hide him until he approached the enemy's exposed side.
Rootpaw found himself staring at the backs of the ShadowClan warriors. His heart raced in his chest as he saw the sharp outlines of their muscles against their sleek thick fur. Their ears were flattened, and their formation was perfect. These are cats who have been to battle many times before, he thought. No wonder they're known for being the dark hearts of the forest.
"When I give the signal, attack," Oakfire hissed. Rootpaw glanced at Pearpaw, whose eyes were dark with determination. Maplefall's tail lashed back and forth. Ryeshade's claws dug deep into the ground, while Finchwing bared his teeth, and Sorrelfur exchanged a determined glance with Whitejay. Vinestep brushed his tail against Rootpaw's side encouragingly.
Oakfire lashed his tail and sprang into the battle, colliding in the back of a tom with thick white fur. The tom, taken by surprise from the attack from behind, hit the ground with a thud, his blue eyes wide. Rootpaw jumped from his hiding spot and found a cat close to his size—a light brown tom with mottles on his fur—and pinned him down. Pearpaw launched himself onto a brown tabby tom, and the rest of the ThunderClan patrol threw themselves into the battle. The once organized battle line was in chaos, disrupted by the unexpected appearance of ThunderClan as the offender.
Howls of anger and shock broke through the clearing as teeth sank into bone and claws sliced against skin and fur. Snarls and hisses echoed through Rootpaw's ears and the thud of bodies hitting the floor sent vibrations through the forest clearing. Rootpaw looked down at the cat beneath him and recognized him as Redpaw, a ShadowClan apprentice. Redpaw stared at him, his amber eyes flaring with fury.
The ginger tom lashed at Rootpaw's belly, his claws tearing out chunks of fur. Rootpaw reared back and winced. Redpaw used his moment of distraction to scramble onto his paws and swipe his front paw at Rootpaw. Rootpaw rolled down, bringing Redpaw with him, and batted his forehead with his back legs. Redpaw squirmed out of Rootpaw's grip and tried to bend down to bite Rootpaw's throat, but Rootpaw grabbed his paws around Redpaw's head and tightened his grip so the tom was stuck between his front paws.
Rootpaw flipped Redpaw over and raked his paw down Redpaw's stomach. The ShadowClan apprentice howled in anger as blood dripped from his wounds. Redpaw pounced onto Rootpaw, but Rootpaw was fast enough to slip out of the way and turn on the brown tom, swiping his cheek open with a well-timed blow. Redpaw lunged his head and snapped at Rootpaw's leg, fixing his teeth across the bone. Rootpaw winced as his teeth sank into his skin and blood burst from the wound, and he bent his head down and fixated his teeth in Redpaw's scruff. With strength he didn't know he had, he pulled Redpaw away from his leg with a rough yank.
"ThunderClan needs to learn it can't lord over the lake anymore!" Redpaw snarled as Rootpaw brought him closer to his jaws.
"No one lords over anything!" Rootpaw snapped at the apprentice, his claws cuffing Redpaw's ear. The skin on the brown tom's ear tore, and blood clotted at the wound. Redpaw yowled in pain as Rootpaw finished him off with a fierce bite to his tail. The mottled brown tom disappeared into the throng of cats, and Rootpaw chased after him until he couldn't see hm anymore.
ShadowClan's here just to teach us a lesson? Rootpaw thought, baffled. What kind of Clan attacks just to teach lessons? Do they even want this territory? He looked around, wondering if Lightpaw was here, the young apprentice he had met not long ago. But he couldn't spot the tom's dark brown tabby fur. Why do I feel relieved? Rootpaw threw himself back into battle. I fight to save my Clanmates. I don't want to, but sometimes it's the only way to save what's important.
Rootpaw lunged at a brown-and-ginger tom and struck his chest with a deep blow. It surprised him how easily his paws moved, how gracefully his claws sliced against skin, how smoothly the battle moves came to him. With one vicious kick from his back leg, the brown-and-ginger tom was sent flying. Rootpaw turned to see a pale brown tom sinking his claws in Pearpaw's back. Rootpaw lunged forward and sank his claws into the brown tom's shoulders, pulling him down. The pale tom crushed Rootpaw with his weight, and Rootpaw shut his eyes. Think! He allowed every muscle to go limp, and he felt the brown tom relax above him. Then Rootpaw heaved upwards, tearing himself free and turning on his heel, slashing his claws across the pale brown tom's face.
Pearpaw leaped to his paws and sliced his claws across the tom's flanks. The two brothers worked together, beating the tom back blow-by-blow until they cornered him between the stream that marked the border and the forest of ThunderClan. Pearpaw's eyes gleamed with bloodlust, as if he was ready to end the tom's life. Rootpaw stepped forward and stared at the brown tom.
"Retreat, and we'll let you live," Rootpaw hissed at him.
The black tom stared at him, his amber eyes blazing. He turned on his heel and leaped across the stream, disappearing into the dark green pine trees below. Rootpaw watched him go. Pearpaw's tail lashed back-and-forth.
"We should've given him something to really think about!" he snapped.
"I think he got the message," Rootpaw replied. He turned on his heel, blood dripping from his wounds, the burn of torn flesh sizzling against his skin. "Let's go back to the battle. Our Clanmates may still need our help." He bounded away from the stream back to the clearing, with Pearpaw on his heels. When they arrived at the clearing, it was void of any ShadowClan warriors—the only thing that remained was tufts of their fur and their scents. Vinestep was sniffing the pelts of the wounded warriors, while Oakfire watched the clearing.
Rootpaw saw a glimpse of golden tabby fur melt into the shadows. Lionstar? But when he blinked again, it was gone. Maybe I just imagined it. He limped over to Oakfire, who glanced at him.
"Are you hurt?" the tom demanded.
"No," Rootpaw replied, shaking his head.
"Is Pearpaw?"
"Not that I saw." Rootpaw glanced over at his brother, who was licking a wound on his stomach. Even though his brother looked pretty beat up, none of the wounds seemed dangerous, and most of what he sustained was bruises and shallow cuts. He fought well. Rootpaw padded over towards Pearpaw. "Are you all right?"
Pearpaw nodded. "I am. And thanks for getting Hoppaw off me." The last sentence was added on awkwardly, as if it was a second thought. Rootpaw touched his nose to his brother's. Exhaustion tugged at his limbs and all he wanted to do was curl up in his nest in the apprentices' den. But they had to make the journey back to camp.
Oakfire gazed at the remaining of the patrol. He waved his tail towards his Clanmates and bounded away. The ThunderClan cats were on his heels, and this time Rootpaw did not try to evade detection. He leaped onto the fallen leaves and batted some that continued to fall until they reached the stone hollow. Oakfire entered, and Rootpaw waited until the rest of the ThunderClan warriors followed. Then, he followed them. He was surprised to realize that he didn't even wince—was he injured? He looked down at his pelt, trying to search for open wounds, but the only thing that gave him much trouble was the bite on his leg. Other than that, the blood that was on his fur belonged to the cats he had attacked, not him.
When they entered the camp, Oakfire climbed up to the Highledge, Vinestep behind him. Rootpaw watched as the rest of the patrol entered Ashenhawk's den, but he didn't want to burden the medicine cat more than she probably already would be with the patrol's injuries. He was sure that if he gave his leg a good lick, it wouldn't bother him that much.
As he ran his pink tongue down the wound, the throb started to ebb into a small ache. The bleeding had stopped and he was sure he didn't need to bother Ashenhawk for any herbs. He fixed his eyes on Ashenhawk's den, seeing Pearpaw in line. When Maplefall limped out of the den, her wounds covered with sticky green ointment and cobwebs, Pearpaw disappeared into the cave. Rootpaw felt a twinge of fear for his brother. I thought he wasn't injured, but if he's going to the medicine den, then he must be hurt.
A yowl called the cats together, and Rootpaw looked up to see Flintstar on the Highledge. The silver tabby tom's coat glowed in the setting sun, pink and orange dapples on his pelt. Rootpaw twitched his ears—why in all the world was Flintstar calling a Clan meeting? Did he want to warn the entire Clan of ShadowClan? Rootpaw spotted Coalshadow and Yarrowstem sitting near the outskirts of the gathering cats, and he walked over to them, careful of his injured leg.
Coalshadow and Yarrowstem looked over at Rootpaw. Yarrowstem's golden eyes widened with worry as she furiously licked Rootpaw's pelt, and Coalshadow touched his son's nose. Rootpaw pressed against Yarrowstem, trying to reassure her that he was all right, but his mother didn't let up with the grooming.
"Vinestep told me you fought well," Coalshadow said to Rootpaw, his eyes glowing with pride.
"Pearpaw fought just as well as I did," Rootpaw said to his father.
Coalshadow's ears twitched. "I'm sure he did," he meowed.
Rootpaw glanced up at the Highledge as the cats started to gather. Maplefall sat next to Yarrowstem and gazed at Rootpaw. Rootpaw was surprised at the respect that glimmered in her amber eyes. Ryeshade limped over to Finchwing and gave the ginger tabby a nod. Tinyfire joined Whitejay and Sorrelfur, and Heatherice sat next to Longbranch. Falconheart's golden shoulders flexed as he gave Rootpaw a brief nod where he joined Foxstorm and Tinyfire. Winterkit and Frostkit watched the Clan meeting from the nursery. Bearpaw and Hailpaw poked their heads from the apprentices' den, followed by Ravenpaw. Rootpaw looked for Dovepaw and waved his tail to her when he saw her slight face appearing from the medicine den. Pearpaw brushed past her and joined Coalshadow.
Flintstar waved his tail. "Now that you're all gathered, I want to report what Oakfire and Vinestep have told me. ShadowClan stationed an ambush today in our territory with the intent of gathering more territory. Oakfire and Vinestep repelled their attack and sent them back over the border, but we can't be sure that this will be their last attempt." His eyes were shadowed with worry. "So we will amp battle training, apprentices will always be accompanied by either a warrior or their mentor, and patrols will be sent more often. I know it will take a lot of work, but we need to fortify our border against ShadowClan, because they will try again."
Rootpaw felt his fur fluff out. While we're patrolling the WindClan border, we have to keep an eye out for ShadowClan, too, he thought. He knew that ThunderClan had attacked ShadowClan once—he hadn't been on the battle patrol, but perhaps the recent attack had been ShadowClan wreaking revenge. It never stops, does it? It never will until one of us rules over the rest. He let out a sigh, but Flintstar's next words made his attention snap toward the Highledge.
"I have two new warriors to make—Rootpaw and Pearpaw." Flintstar's eyes, concealing a hint of affection, burned down onto the two toms.
What? But we didn't finish our assessments! Rootpaw stared at Flintstar, amber eyes wide.
"I know that they didn't finish their assessment," Flintstar went on, "but Oakfire tells me it was Rootpaw who alerted him to the ambush and fought like a god in the battle. Pearpaw, too, fought valiantly and defended his Clanmates as bravely as any warrior did. And I was told their hunting wasn't so bad, either."
Vinestep purred. "I had to send Sootfall and Heatherice to collect it, they brought back so much!"
Flintstar allowed chuckles to ripple throughout the clearing before raising his tail for silence. "Pearpaw, Rootpaw, come here, please."
Rootpaw exchanged an excited glance with Pearpaw as the two brothers padded towards the Highledge. Flintstar watched them before looking up at the sky, bleeding with red and orange. "I, Flintstar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these two apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Rootpaw." The big leader swung his gaze and focused on the black-and-white tom. "Do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"
"I do." Rootpaw lifted his head and knew the words he spoke were as true as his heart.
"Pearpaw," Flintstar meowed, trailing his gaze towards the gray tabby tom, "do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"
"I do," Pearpaw replied smoothly.
"Then by the powers of StarClan, I grant you both your warrior names. Rootpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Rootberry. StarClan honors your kindness and compassion, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan." Flintstar leaped down from the Highledge and rested his chin on top of Rootberry's head. Rootberry licked Flintstar's shoulder and gazed at his brother proudly.
The Clan leader turned to face Pearpaw, whose eyes were blazing with excitement. "Pearpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Peartuft. StarClan honors your determination and your fearlessness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan." Just as he had done with Rootberry, Flintstar rested his chin on Peartuft's forehead. Peartuft licked Flintstar's shoulder, and the two brothers turned and listened to their Clan cheer their name.
"Rootberry! Peartuft!" chanted their Clanmates. Coalshadow's blue eyes were brimming with pride, and Yarrowstem yowled their names to the sky. Dovepaw's eyes sparkled with happiness, and her cheers for Rootberry were much louder than they were for Peartuft. Hailpaw and Ravenpaw cheered their names, while Bearpaw's voice was low and solemn, but Rootberry could still hear him. Vinestep purred loudly, and Oakfire gave Peartuft a nod. To Rootberry's surprise, when he looked over and gazed at the nursery, Brookfeather was cheering as well. She doesn't sound as disgruntled as usual.
"Before you begin your vigil," Flintstar meowed, stopping the Clan from breaking up, "to keep Hailpaw, Ravenpaw, Bearpaw, and Dovepaw company in the apprentices' den…"
"As if the den isn't full enough," Hailpaw mumbled.
Flintstar went on as if Hailpaw hadn't said anything. "…There are two apprentices I'd like to appoint."
Rootberry glanced at the nursery. Winterkit and Frostkit were staring at their father with their blue eyes wide. Flintstar's gaze twinkled as he gestured with his kits to come over. Nettlesnow licked the foreheads of her kits as she watched them scramble over to Flintstar.
"Winterkit and Frostkit, you've reached the age of six moons, and it's time for you to be apprenticed," Flintstar began. "Winterkit, from this moment you will be known as Winterpaw. Your mentor will be Falconheart." He nodded to the golden tabby tom, who padded over to Winterpaw and touched noses with his new apprentice.
Frostkit waited anxiously as he watched Winterpaw join Falconheart in the gathering cats. Flintstar addressed his second son. "Frostkit, from this moment on you will be known as Frostpaw. Coalshadow, you will be the mentor to Frostpaw."
Coalshadow padded over to Frostpaw and touched noses with his new apprentice, brushing his tail across the flecked tom's shoulders comfortingly. Rootberry cheered for the new apprentices, noting the paternal warmth in Flintstar's amber eyes, until the Clan broke apart and Winterpaw and Frostpaw followed their mentors. Rootberry glanced at the sky to see the indigo shades starting to drip their way across the expanse, and the stars began to glitter faintly. We need to start our vigil.
Rootberry gestured Peartuft forward and the two toms settled together in the center of camp. They couldn't talk to each other—even Peartuft knew that—but Rootberry blinked gently at him, hoping that Peartuft would know just how happy Rootberry was for him. I know how much he wants to be a great warrior, and I just want the best for him.
And for me, too. I don't know how far I am in completing the destiny Firestar told me about, but becoming a warrior has to be the next step.