As silence settled over the now emptying camp, Slatepaw's ears pricked.

Is everyone asleep now?  He couldn't risk a single cat being awake in the camp.

His ears flicked with anticipation.

Excitement flooded him as he carefully pulled himself to his paws. His yellow eyes swept the den, sharp and edged in the darkness that cloaked the den. The tom's pale, wiry, gray fur was smooth and flattened against his body as he slunk toward a badly made nest nearby.

Earlier that day, he had spoken to Finchpaw. After finishing up his conversation with Cinderpaw, the pale-furred tom had headed over to his friend to see what she was thinking about.

It was casual, normal conversation at first - training and hunting, stuff along that line. Nothing out of the ordinary; nothing strange.

Then it had just happened; Slatepaw had suggested they sneak out in the middle of the night so he could explain the little secret he was keeping, and the events regarding it.

Finchpaw hadn't really had anything else to do and so she was easily able to slip into her nest without her mentor, Bumblepool, caring too much. The warrior seemed very relaxed with training. Slatepaw had just lied to his mentor and said he was extra tired. Peonystrike had let him off, much to his surprise. 

And now, the gray-furred apprentice slowly edged over to Finchpaw, getting closer and closer, trying to avoid the nests around him as to not make any noise, and when he was close enough...

"Finchpaw!" hissed Slatepaw, nudging the she-cat gently with his paw, "Finchpaw! It's time to wake up!"

It was crucial that he kept his voice down, and that they were overall very quiet with this endeavor. If he didn't, they could be discovered and immediately turned in. 

The she-cat's green eyes fluttered open, grogginess glimmering in their depths. He stared at her, trying to remind her what they needed to do without speaking, and suddenly an understanding gleam appeared in her eyes. As she rose silently to her paws, the tom shuffled back slightly to be sure she wouldn't bump into him and cause any noise. Her tail flickered slightly and she hopped swiftly over some nests, managing to make it to the entrance with no sound.

She turned and looked at Slatepaw as if to say, "Your turn." Her leafy eyes gleamed with an unsaid challenge.

Slatepaw studied the ground laid out in front of him, finding that it would be quite easy to follow a similar path to Finchpaw's. With gentle pawsteps, he trotted forward, edged around a nest, skittered past a tail, hopped over a few cats, and then finally stopped beside the pale-brown furred she-cat.

They both ducked out of the den, coming out into the dry clearing that was the camp.

The night sky above them glittered with stars that seemed to smile as Finchpaw turned to Slatepaw. Her ears flicked as she tipped her head a bit.

"Lead the way!"

Her voice was smooth and soft as it escaped her muzzle. Slatepaw gave her a nod and soundlessly he headed toward the camp entrance. Squeezing past the thorn entrance, he managed to get into a swath of undergrowth.

Glancing over his shoulder, the tom was glad to see that Finchpaw was following him. He grinned and then turned back, heading away.

After they had gotten a decent distance from camp, Slatepaw stopped and turned back to Finchpaw. Anticipation swirled within the apprentice's belly as he settled down next to a tree, leaning back on it a little.

The she-cat quickly padded to sit down next to him, and he noticed the swift way she curled her tail over her paws.

"Okay... so, this might be a long story... but that's okay," he started, blinking at her.

Finchpaw nodded at his words rather fast and he took this as a sign that she wanted to go back to sleeping as soon as possible. It didn't offend him, though. 

After that, Slatepaw explained everything. 

Every detail and every little part of the last few day's events was crucial and it could not be forgotten, and so that was the reason he was spilling it to her. Everything from the meeting, going hunting, the dream, and marking the trees, and everything in between. There was no piece of information that the pale-furred tom could've skipped or missed because it had all been saved carefully in his mind like a library.

And so far, judging by what Slatepaw could tell from her facial expressions, Finchpaw seemed to be taking it well. Her head bobbed in a usual nod every now and then as he spoke; her whiskers twitched with understanding; her fur seemed to stand on end at some points; her green gaze flashed with several differing emotions... all signs that she was understanding what he was saying.

After Slatepaw had finished, he took a deep breath, attempting to collect his thoughts. Finally, after so long, he'd been able to explain everything to Finchpaw. 

"I'm willing to help in any way I can," she mewed immediately, letting her gaze wander away before returning back to Slatepaw's yellow eyes. 

The tom nodded, "Thanks... it means a lot."

The pale brown apprentice grinned at him, head once more bobbing in a quick nod, "I'm here to help, after all. I want to help!"

 "I'll try to see what I can get you to help with..." Slatepaw trailed off, curiosity filling him. What could she help with? Once more a sense of anticipation clamored within him. Things were being set up for his success- no. Not just his success. The saving of the Clan!

"We should get back soon," meowed Finchpaw after a moment of silence had lapsed between the two.

"Yeah, you're right," answered the tom decisively, rising to his paws with a lashing of his tail - not out of anger or frustration, but simply because of the suspense that filled him.

Finchpaw stood too. As Slatepaw turned to pad away, the she-cat's voice sounded in his ears, "I think that we'll be suspicious if we come back at the same time though."

Slatepaw nodded, "Yeah, that makes sense. I'll go back first."

"Okay! I'll be back soon!" The she-cat chirped, blinking a pair of bright green eyes at him.

The gray-furred tom nodded at her and then turned. Quickly, he dashed off, weaving through the undergrowth. Thoughts of a new NettleClan swirled in his head, and before he knew it, he was skidding to a stop in front of the thorn border that guarded the camp.

Quietly, Slatepaw slipped back into the camp as if nothing had happened.

Written by Lamb :)