Duskelle was watching.

From far above, higher than she'd ever been before. She couldn't understand what was happening — it felt as if her body wasn't there. She couldn't feel air on her pelt, her head fur swatting at her face, or her muscles contracting as she moved. It was only her mind that floated above the world, that looked down on the forest from a perch amongst the clouds.

The territory rolled out below her like a map, trees appearing as spots of leafy green and the rivers as thin lines of brilliant blue that cut through the clay. All of them curved together to form the island that was camp.

Parts of the territory appeared to be completely empty, blank spaces of faded white with no distinguishing marks. She slowly realized these were places she'd never been to. While she couldn't remember consciously what paths she'd taken before, her subconscious had created a map of her experiences.

She slowly traced a line of trees with her vision. They curved around and upwards until they reached a grassy clearing where a large mound rose. The fox den.

Duskelle's eyes returned to the camp, where another trail made its way from the camp entrance to the large lake that blossomed blue on her map. It curled down to become a straight line that passed by the rapids — she shuddered as she saw them — and then turned back to the entrance.

She could see small dark blots that were RiverClanners moving throughout the camp, going into and out of and in between dens, together and alone, slowly and speedily, in every manner possible.

Life was fascinating.

Suddenly, she felt an odd sort of tug, and weighty threads of consciousness seemed to wrap around her, pulling her mind into a solid form. They lashed together, tugging her up. She struggled, trying to stay, to watch, but the dream-threads would not allow it — they tore her away, into some land as high as the heavens.

Suddenly, Duskelle was back in the forest of her dreams, her form as solid and grounded as it was in the waking world — but now she was a cat. Even though the last dream had given her ample time to become used to such a form, the same wonder rose in her again, as new as ever.

"Duskpaw," came a familiar voice, and she looked up to see a massive tom-cat padding over. He gave her an easy smile, and his light amber eyes twinkled.

"Hawkripple," she breathed. "I must — I must congratulate you."

He frowned questioningly. "Congratulate me? What for?"

"Your kits," she replied. "They've become apprentices."

"Ah." His expression cleared. "So they have. Thank you, Duskpaw."

Duskelle sat back on her haunches, curling her tail over her paws. It was an alien sensation. "Your daughter...the one named after you. She's Hawkpaw now."

Hawkripple's eyes grew troubled. "So she is. I don't know if I should feel honored or worried."

"Worried?" she asked in surprise. "Why would you be worried?"

"Over Icebreeze," he responded. "She won't — she can't forget me. She has to understand that I'm lost to her until she comes to join me in StarClan. I miss her too, so much I could tear my own heart out to spare myself... but she has more to look forward to and others to care for."

"I think she might be letting go, Hawkripple," Duskelle said calmly, looking out at the trees beyond the creek. "She is shifting her love for you to her kits — she's found a new Hawk to care for, after all."

He smiled back sadly. "Maybe you're right, Duskpaw. There's hope in what you say..."

Both of them were silent for another moment. The two of them sat in contented silence.

"Well, Duskpaw," Hawkripple said, drawing himself up suddenly. "You're here for more than a discussion about my family. Today, your training will begin."

Her head snapped back to look at him. "My training?" she asked, incredulous. She'd forgotten.

He smiled widely. "Your training. We'll start with the most basic of things—fishing."

"Fishing?" she asked, skeptical. "You're going to teach me to fish in water I can't touch?"

He laughed out loud. "Do you think the River of Stars is the only stream to wind through the vast reaches of StarClan? No!" The tom's eyes sparkled. "Come!" Hawkripple jumped to his paws and raced away. 

Duskelle laughed and followed after him, with swift and nimble feline paws, darting in between tree trunks and jumping over fallen logs.

Almost too quickly, he slowed at a calm and still pond. Its depths were dark blue, like the sky that shown above. A thin trickle of water, no wider than a tail-length, fed into it.

"Most of RiverClan's prey is fish," Hawkripple told her. "Yes, we do land-hunt, but our most important skill lies in fishing—we tend to leave scrounging among the undergrowth to ThunderClan."

Duskelle hid a smile as she wondered how ThunderClan mentors described RiverClan's hunts. 

Hawkripple stepped close to the pond. He glanced up at the glowing moon and then behind him, seeming to analyze something, and then shifted his position around the pond. She observed him curiously.

Before she could open her mouth to ask, he answered the question in her mind. "A key part of fishing is making sure that your prey does not see your shadow — it alerts the fish to your presence." He motioned with his head besides him. "Come, join me."

Duskelle stepped forwards, standing just behind him, careful her shadow stayed away from the water. The moon in StarClan's forest glowed strong enough to put even the sun to shame.

"Fishing," Hawkripple began, raising a paw in a delicate manner that belied its size. "Depends primarily on timing. You must wait, and you must watch..." 

His eyes flitted between silvery dashes in the pond—Duskelle realized abruptly that these were fish—as he sat motionless.

She waited eagerly, expecting him to do something, but all he did was sit and watch with the upraised paw. Slowly, fishing began to lose the magic that had come with Hawkripple's description. Would he ever actually do anything? Had he forgotten that she was there, waiting?

Duskelle finally opened her mouth to speak when there was a sudden movement, and she jumped back as an arc of water shot out at her paws.

A small minnow lay flopping on the ground, eyes trembling wildly in its sockets. Hawkripple was there in a flash, slapping its tail down with a paw and bending down to nip at its neck in a killing bite.

He raised his head, smiling lazily. His tongue slipped out to rasp around the tips of his fangs, which were barely wet with the blood of the fish.

Duskelle watched him, heart pounding, in a position that suggested she was ready to flee. She managed to calm herself, and stared at him with wide eyes. "Wow..."

"Fishing is an art, Duskpaw," he told her as he shoved the fish towards her. "An art I expect you to learn..." 

— — —

Duskelle awoke abruptly, Hawkripple's farewell standing out starkly in her mind. She broke into a smile. Her training had been amazing. Tasting fish properly for the first time, learning to hunt...not that she'd actually caught anything, but Hawkripple had promised her that she'd learn in time.

Duskelle flexed her leg to test the amount of pain she received from her ankle. She rose to her paws, but suddenly a realization struck her - she didn't felt any pain. Her ankle didn't hurt.

She stared down at it, and twisted it as far as she could—absolutely no pain whatsoever.

A thought floated into her mind. Hawkripple had said during their second meeting that her training in StarClan would begin at the same time as her training in the waking world. Her astral training had started last night. Did that mean that her corporeal training would begin today?

Duskelle thought it did. A wide smile stretched across her face, and she walked to where Stormpaw slept, moving without a limp for the first time in days.

"Stormpaw!" she exclaimed, reaching out to shake him gently. "Stormpaw, wake up!"

He blinked awake, his eyes lazy slits of deep green, and yawned, showing a wide expanse of bright pink tongue. "Duskpaw?"

"I think I'm going to begin my training today," she told him.

Instantly, he was wide awake and staring at her. "Your training? How do you know?"

Suddenly, she remembered that she hadn't told anyone other than Lilacfeather about training with Hawkripple and her smile froze. Should she tell Stormpaw?

After a second of thought, she threw her worries aside with decided finality. She trusted Stormpaw. She could tell him, of all cats.

"I've been meeting with Hawkripple in my dreams," she told him as she settled down next to him, wrapping her front legs around her bent knees.

"Hawkripple?" he asked, a surprised glint shining in his eyes. "Icebreeze's mate? The one Hawkpaw's named after?"

"Yes," she replied. "He first came to thank me, for helping save Hawkpaw. And then he appeared again, to tell me that because of my...form, StarClan had decreed that I needed special training. He said that I'd begin my training in StarClan at the same time as my training in the real world."

Stormpaw nodded slowly as he processed the information she'd given him. "I didn't know StarClan spoke to anyone other than the medicine cat—wait—are you saying that your training in StarClan has started?"

She nodded, and his expression turned to wonder. "What was it like? Training in StarClan?"

Duskelle looked away as she thought of herself in cat form, the swish of her tail, the feeling of her paws pounding against the earth... "It's magical, Stormpaw. Hawkripple turned me into a cat." 

She turned back to him, eyes wide with longing, and he understood her immediately.

"A cat..." he began, looking steadily at her. "It must've been wonderful for you, Duskpaw."

"It was," she replied, rocking backwards. "It was incredible... and to think that one day I might actually be a cat..."

Both of them were silent for a while, watching the light filter through the den.

"Well," Stormpaw said, pricking his ears up. "Off to train you go." He butted her softly with his head. "Have fun with the other apprentices."

Duskelle could see the want and sadness in his eyes — he'd be alone in the medicine den now, at least until he healed completely.

She bent forwards, and softly touched her nose to his. "I'll visit," she murmured, and he smiled gently.

Duskelle rose to her paws, and padded out of the den.

She was finally going to learn to become a warrior.