Slatepaw couldn't help but shiver when the dawn patrol came back bloodied.

No one was dead, thank StarClan, but Hollowshade's ear was bleeding and Bumblepool's leg looked like it was threatening to collapse under him. Mistnose's left eye was drooping slightly, but otherwise seemed balanced. And Brightstar-- Slatepaw felt a flash of anger, but it was dampened by worry-- she was almost unharmed, just a small scratch on her side.

Rushshade hurried forward, worry in her eyes. "Is everyone alright?" She looked tired: she must have just been woken up.

"Not particularly," croaked out Hollowshade. He let out a noise that might have been a purr, but he was too out of breath to be sure.

Rushshade nodded quickly. "Brightstar? You alright?"

The leader blinked and looked over at the medicine cat. She paused for a moment, then muttered, "A cut on my side."

The dark ginger medicine cat nodded. "Right. Get in here," she mewed. Rushshade turned to the others, scanning them briefly. Her gaze sharpened when she saw Bumblepool, and she looked slightly pained, but she still disappeared into the medicine den with her leader.

Bumblepool stumbled and fell to the ground, his leg finally falling under him. Hollowshade darted forward to try and catch him, but missed, and Bumblepool waved Hollowshade away weakly with his tail. "I'm...a'right," he muttered. His voice sounded strange, like his tongue was swollen. Maybe it was, Slatepaw had heard stories of injured cats biting their tongues to stop themselves from screaming.

"Slatepaw? Cinderpaw?" Peonystrike's voice came from behind him. Slatepaw spun around, Cinderpaw doing the same from his spot beside the wiry grey tom. "I know you're worried...but we do have to train."

Slatepaw's eyes narrowed. He wasn't worried (well, that wasn't true, he was worried, but that wasn't his main emotion), he was mad that Bumblepool, who was clearly more injured and had eyes rolling back into his head was being put second after Brightstar's tiny scratch.

Peonystrike didn't understand that, though. She didn't understand anything.

"Have either of you seen Gorsepaw?" she asked. The pale grey-and-white she-cat swished her tail. "I know Embershade's still talking to Olivestem, but he doesn't know where she went."

Slatepaw felt a wave of unfounded anger wash over him at his mentor's words. He didn't like Gorsepaw that much, even if she was Cinderpaw's half-sister. Whenever he was around her, his paranoia went into overdrive and he somehow felt that she knew, and that she was going to tell her mother about their plans and ruin everything.

It was Cinderpaw that responded to Peonystrike's question, the warm brown tom flicking an ear. "I'm not sure," he mewed, "but I think she went out to hunt? With...our father?" His friend's voice caught on "our", and Slatepaw felt a surge of sympathy.

Peonystrike didn't seem to notice, not that that fact surprised Slatepaw. "Could you try and find her?"

Cinderpaw shot Slatepaw a glance he couldn't quite interpret. "Sure," he mewed. He paused, then added, "Slatepaw, would you like to help?"

The annoyance that Slatepaw was feeling evaporated at the hopeful look in Cinderpaw's eyes. "Alright," he conceded, trying to make it sound like he was excited for the task. "Where does she like to hunt?"

Cinderpaw paused. "I don't know...maybe we should just start—"

"No need," mewed a voice from the side. The two apprentices and Peonystrike turned to see the ginger-and-white she-cat entering the camp with her father, Ashbranch, in tow.

"What happened?" asked the brown tabby that Slatepaw was never sure how to feel about. The tom saw Bumblepool laying on the ground, looking exhausted, and took in Hollowshade's nicked ear. "Is Brightstar alright?"

Slatepaw found himself saying "just a cut in her side," before he was even aware that his mouth had opened, and in a moment Ashbranch was heading towards the medicine den in a near panic.

"Ashbranch—" began Gorsepaw, but she stopped. She turned to Cinderpaw and muttered, "This isn't going to go well."

Moments after the tom entered the medicine den, there was an angry yowl from Brightstar. "Ashbranch! I told you to never speak to me again—" Her voice was suddenly muffled, and Slatepaw wondered absently if Rushshade had silenced her.

Ashbranch's voice sounded sad. "But I love you."

Brightstar snorted. "You said that then too. Get out."

Ashbranch bolted out of the den, looking sheepishly at his kits that stared at him judgingly. Cinderpaw was leaning slightly towards Slatepaw as if searching comfort, and Gorsepaw sat straight and tall.

The tom winced. "Sorry about that," he mewed to the Clan at large. No one paid him any particular attention; he didn't deserve it.

There was quiet for a moment as Ashbranch disappeared back into the woods, tail flickering behind him. Slatepaw could hear the wind and bugs clearly, and was abnormally aware of the dirt on his paws. Cinderpaw unconsciously leaned closer and laid his tail across Slatepaw's.

Peonystrike cleared her throat. "Are we going to train or not?"

Slatepaw turned back to look at his mentor, just now aware that Tigerthroat and Embershade had approached them at some point during the exchange. He swallowed, knowing that he should answer because if he was silent they would know--

Gorsepaw answered for him. "Let's go."

Cinderpaw removed his tail from atop Slatepaw's, and he felt suddenly alone.

---❂--❂--❂---

Slatepaw wasn't entirely sure why the mentors hadn't let Finchpaw join them.

Well, no, that wasn't exactly true. He knew why: as a daughter of unknown rogues, she was seen as a rogue herself. And rogues were violent, everyone knew that. She'd hurt the Clan, whether accidentally or on purpose, by unsheathing her claws and fighting like it was a real battle.

Never mind the fact that Finchpaw could barely kill a mouse.

In fact, it was Gorsepaw that was fighting with claws half-unsheathed, clearly not noticing that she was doing it. Slatepaw wasn't surprised by that — her mother was Brightstar, after all — and instead of complaining he ducked and rolled, knowing that fighting skills would be of extreme importance during the rebellion.

Gorsepaw was acting rather confident: not that Slatepaw was surprised by that either. Not only was Brightstar arrogant, but Gorsepaw had a reason to be sure of herself: she'd beaten Cinderpaw easily in the last mock battle. And while Slatepaw had as well, he had a sneaking suspicion that his friend wasn't giving it his all.

Then again, maybe Cinderpaw was just upset about his father. Slatepaw wouldn't blame him for that.

"I thought you could actually fight," laughed Gorsepaw as she aimed a swipe at his face. Slatepaw danced out of the way, breathing hard. "I think your mentor needs to teach you some new moves."

From the corner of his eye, the wiry grey tom saw Peonystrike looking vaguely offended, but she didn't comment.

Without thinking, Slatepaw hissed, "Burnetflame's a much better mentor than Embershade!"

Then he realized what he said, and froze awkwardly.

Gorsepaw's paw still continued its attack, even as the attacker forgot what was going on, and, as he had frozen suddenly, it connected, nicking his ear. Slatepaw didn't feel anything for a moment before a pain suddenly shot through it.

"Ouch!" Slatepaw yelped.

Nobody stepped forward for a brief moment. Then Cinderpaw was there, staring at the nick with what could only be described as jealousy. "That'll make you look so cool when it heals. It's a battle scar!"

Slatepaw blinked, ear still throbbing. "I guess."

He glanced over at Peonystrike. His mentor's expression was stony, and Slatepaw felt a bit of regret shoot through him. He hadn't meant to say that. And it wasn't as if it wasn't true, anyway: Burnetflame was a better mentor than Peonystrike.

So why should he feel bad about saying it?

There was silence again, loudly settling over the clearing. Slatepaw's head pounded.

"Training dismissed." It was Peonystrike that gave the order. Slatepaw noticed her voice sounded hollow.

Cinderpaw turned to Slatepaw. "Want to go eat? I saw a really juicy squirrel earlier." His voice sounded overly cheery, yet the grey tom greatly appreciated it.

"Sounds great!" he mewed, imitating his friend's tone of voice.

And without a glance behind him, Slatepaw headed back to camp with Cinderpaw at his side.

written by ember
Edited by Lamb