Blazepaw woke to something warm and soft patting her face.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Time for training!"

She blinked groggily to find Graypaw's face mere whiskers away from hers, his blue eyes bright with excitement. For a moment she was disoriented—where was her soft bed? Her housefolk?—but then it all came rushing back. ThunderClan. She was ThunderClan now.

"What time is it?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Dawn patrol just left. We're supposed to meet Lionheart and Tigerclaw at the training hollow." Graypaw bounced on his paws. "Since Ravenpaw's still injured, you'll be training with us today. Come on!"

Blazepaw scrambled to her feet, her muscles stiff from sleeping on the ground. Across the den, Sandpaw was still curled in her nest, one green eye cracking open to glare at them before she rolled over with a huff.

Graypaw led the way out of camp, his tail high as he navigated through the forest. The morning air was cool and fresh, and despite her nervousness, Blazepaw felt a thrill of excitement. Real training. She was going to learn to be a warrior.

The training hollow was a sandy clearing surrounded by ferns, worn smooth by countless paws. Tigerclaw was already there, his massive frame casting a long shadow in the early morning light. Lionheart stood beside him, looking more patient but no less imposing.

"You're late," Tigerclaw growled as they approached.

Blazepaw's ears flattened, but Graypaw seemed unfazed. "Sorry, Tigerclaw. Had to wake Blazepaw up."

"Don't be too hard on them," Lionheart said mildly, though his amber eyes were serious. "Blazepaw, since Ravenpaw is recovering from his injuries, Tigerclaw and I will both be overseeing your training for now."

The thought of training under both of them made Blazepaw's heart race—Lionheart with his steady warmth, Tigerclaw with his fierce intensity. She found herself standing a little straighter, wanting to impress them both.

"We're going to show you the borders," Tigerclaw announced, his tone brooking no argument. "A warrior must know every inch of their territory. Keep up."

Without waiting for a response, he took off through the undergrowth. Lionheart followed at a more measured pace, and Graypaw shot Blazepaw an encouraging look before bounding after them.

Blazepaw ran, but keeping up with the three experienced cats was harder than she'd expected. Branches whipped at her face, roots seemed to reach up to trip her, and she had to push herself harder than she ever had in her life. Just when she thought her lungs would burst, they stopped beside a hard black path that cut through the forest.

"Thunderpath," Graypaw panted, though he seemed barely winded. "Watch for monsters."

Blazepaw stared at the strange surface, its acrid smell making her nose wrinkle. She'd seen paths like this near her housefolk's nest, but never this close.

Tigerclaw's ears swiveled, listening. Then, apparently satisfied, he darted across. His powerful legs ate up the distance in heartbeats, and Blazepaw found herself admiring the fluid grace of his movements despite his size.

Lionheart went next, then Graypaw. Blazepaw took a deep breath and followed, her paws slapping against the hard surface. The smell was overwhelming, and she was grateful when she reached the other side.

They entered a strange forest of tall, evenly-spaced trees. "Tallpines," Lionheart explained. "Twolegs plant them in rows. The hunting isn't great here, but it's part of our territory."

They continued on, and gradually the forest became more natural. Tigerclaw paused at the top of a rise, and Blazepaw came up beside him, trying not to notice how close their pelts were, how she could feel the heat radiating from his large frame.

"There," he said, nodding toward a cluster of Twoleg nests in the distance. "That's the Twolegplace. Where you came from."

There was no mockery in his voice, just statement of fact, but Blazepaw still felt a flush of shame. She looked at the distant buildings and realized she felt nothing for them. That life already seemed like a dream.

"And this," Lionheart said, leading them down toward a stretch of rocks beside the river, "is Sunningrocks. RiverClan claims it's theirs, but it belongs to ThunderClan."

A new scent hit Blazepaw's nose—fishy and wet, distinctly different from the ThunderClan cats. "That's RiverClan?"

"Yes," Graypaw said, pressing close to her side as they walked along the border. "They're fish-eaters. Weird, right?"

They followed the scent line until they reached a place where four giant oak trees stood in a clearing, their branches reaching toward each other overhead. The hollow in the center was massive, with a great rock jutting up from the ground.

"Fourtrees," Lionheart said, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "This is where all four Clans meet at the full moon for a Gathering. It's neutral territory—no fighting is allowed here under the truce of StarClan."

"All four Clans?" Blazepaw breathed, trying to imagine so many cats in one place. "How many cats are there?"

"Over a hundred, when we all gather," Graypaw said, his eyes shining. "It's amazing. You'll see at the next Gathering."

"That's ShadowClan territory." Lionheart nodded toward the dark pine forest on the far side of Fourtrees. "They're the most aggressive of the Clans. Watch yourself around them."

Blazepaw stared at the territories stretching out before her—four separate groups, all competing for the same resources. "It seems like there are so many Clans," she said slowly. "So much fighting over borders and prey. Wouldn't it make more sense to work together? To share?"

The words were barely out of her mouth before she realized she'd made a mistake. Lionheart went very still. Graypaw's eyes widened. And Tigerclaw—

Tigerclaw whirled on her, his amber eyes blazing. "That kind of thinking is treacherous," he snarled, stepping so close she could feel his breath on her face. "You may have been a kittypet yesterday, but if you want to be ThunderClan, you need to start thinking like a warrior. We protect our own. Always."

Blazepaw's heart hammered, but she couldn't look away from his intense gaze. There was fury there, yes, but also something else—passion, conviction, a fierce loyalty that was almost overwhelming.

"Tigerclaw," Lionheart said calmly, though his voice carried authority. "She's speaking from her heart. That will make her a stronger warrior in the end."

"It will make her weak when she needs to attack," Tigerclaw growled, but he stepped back slightly. "Soft feelings get cats killed."

"The Clans do meet peacefully," Lionheart continued, his amber eyes finding Blazepaw's. She felt steadied by his calm presence, the way he always seemed to know the right thing to say. "At the full moon Gathering, we share news and maintain the peace. It's part of the warrior code."

"There must be one soon," Blazepaw said, remembering the moon from last night. "It looked almost full."

"Very good," Lionheart purred, and the warmth in his voice made her chest swell with pride. "But the truce only lasts for that one night. The rest of the time, we are separate Clans with separate interests."

"If you weaken Clan loyalty, the whole Clan suffers," Tigerclaw added, his voice still hard but no longer quite so hostile. "Remember that."

They continued along the ShadowClan border until they reached another Thunderpath, this one even larger than the first. The stench of it made Blazepaw's eyes water, and the distant roar of monsters echoed through the trees.

"I know this smell," she said, surprised. "From my old—from the Twolegplace."

"This Thunderpath runs along the border for quite a distance," Graypaw explained, keeping well back from the edge. "ShadowClan usually stays away from it. They don't like crossing it any more than we do."

"We're heading back to camp," Lionheart announced, and Blazepaw was grateful. Her paws ached, and her head was spinning with all the new information—borders and territories and the complex web of Clan relationships.

By the time they returned to camp, the sun was high overhead. Blazepaw's legs trembled with exhaustion, but she felt a fierce satisfaction. She'd kept up. She'd seen the territory. She was learning.

Dustpaw and Sandpaw were already in the apprentices' den, sharing a plump mouse. They looked up as Blazepaw and Graypaw entered, and Sandpaw's whiskers twitched.

"Finally back from your little tour?" she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "Dustpaw and I actually caught prey today. You know, useful warrior stuff."

"We were learning the borders," Graypaw said defensively. "Just as important."

"Sure, sure." Dustpaw stretched lazily, though his eyes weren't quite as hostile as Sandpaw's. "Don't worry—when we don't show up at the Gathering tomorrow night, they'll ask us all about it. We'll have plenty of stories."

"The Gathering?" Blazepaw's ears perked up. "Tomorrow?"

"Yep." Sandpaw preened. "We're going. You're probably too new, though."

Despite the she-cat's attitude, Blazepaw felt a surge of envy. To see all four Clans gathered under the full moon, to witness that ancient tradition—she desperately wanted to go.

As the sun began to set, Blazepaw shared a small shrew with Graypaw near the fresh-kill pile. She watched as cats began to gather, and then Bluestar appeared on the Highrock.

"The following cats will accompany me to the Gathering," the leader announced, and began listing names. Lionheart. Whitestorm. Darkstripe. Dustpaw. Sandpaw.

Blazepaw's heart sank as her name wasn't called. Of course not—she'd barely been in the Clan for a day.

"Don't worry," Graypaw murmured, noticing her disappointment. "All apprentices get to go eventually. Your time will come."

They shared tongues after eating, Graypaw showing her how to groom the spots she couldn't reach herself. The rhythmic licking was soothing, and Blazepaw found herself relaxing into the intimacy of it, grateful for his steady friendship.

That night, curled in her nest with Graypaw's warmth nearby, Blazepaw dreamed of running through the forest under the full moon, surrounded by cats from all four Clans.

The next morning came too soon. Blazepaw was still half-asleep when Graypaw dragged her out of the den, cutting off any chance to ask Dustpaw and Sandpaw about the Gathering.

"Come on, training time again!"

This time, when they reached the training hollow, Ravenpaw was there. The black apprentice looked miserable, favoring his injured shoulder, and there was something haunted in his eyes.

"How's the shoulder?" Graypaw asked cheerfully.

"Hurts," Ravenpaw admitted quietly.

Tigerclaw and Lionheart approached, and Tigerclaw's expression darkened. "A warrior suffers his pain in silence," he growled at his apprentice. "Hold your tongue and do your duty."

Ravenpaw flinched, and Blazepaw felt a surge of sympathy. The young tom clearly wasn't fully healed.

"Today we're going to practice stalking," Lionheart announced. "Show me your hunting crouch."

Blazepaw dropped into the position she'd seen cats use, trying to remember how they'd moved through the forest. She kept her belly low, her paws light, her tail still.

"Pathetic," Tigerclaw said flatly, circling around her. "Your haunches are too high. You'd scare off every piece of prey in the forest. Lower."

Blazepaw adjusted, trying not to feel hurt by his harsh criticism. This was just how he taught—demanding, exacting, pushing for perfection.

"Better," Lionheart said warmly, and Blazepaw felt a rush of gratitude toward the golden-brown tom. "You're learning quickly. Keep practicing that position."

"Ravenpaw!" Tigerclaw's voice was sharp. "That crouch is even worse. What's wrong with you?"

Ravenpaw tried to lower himself further, but his injured shoulder made him wobble. Pain flashed across his face.

"His shoulder's probably still hurting," Blazepaw said before she could stop herself. "He's doing the best he can."

Tigerclaw's head swung toward her, his amber eyes dangerous. "Injuries happen in battle. A warrior doesn't make excuses." He looked back at Ravenpaw with disgust. "It's an embarrassment to be shown up by a kittypet on her second day of training."

The words stung, but Blazepaw held her ground. There was something wrong with how Tigerclaw spoke to Ravenpaw—something that went beyond tough training into cruelty.

"Well, my crouch is probably the worst of all," Graypaw announced suddenly, throwing himself into an exaggerated, ridiculous position with his rump in the air and his tail waving. "Look at this—I'm basically advertising to the prey that I'm coming!"

Blazepaw felt a rush of affection for him, trying to break the tension with humor. But Lionheart's expression remained serious.

"This is not a game, Graypaw," the deputy said firmly. "All of you, take this seriously. Your lives may depend on these skills someday."

"Enough talking," Tigerclaw snapped. "Time to hunt for real. Ravenpaw, you'll head to the Owltree. Graypaw, take the bramble thicket near the western border. Blazepaw—" His eyes fixed on her, challenging. "There's a stream bed not far from here. Let's see if a kittypet can actually catch something."

They split up, and Blazepaw found herself alone in the forest. The stream bed was rocky and steep, with water trickling through the stones. She could smell prey—mouse, definitely, and maybe vole.

She crept forward, remembering Lionheart's gentle corrections and even Tigerclaw's harsh ones. Lower. Lighter. Still.

There—a flash of brown fur between the rocks. A mouse, nibbling on a seed.

Blazepaw's heart raced. This was it. Her first real hunt.

She waited, muscles coiled, until the mouse moved slightly closer. Then she pounced.

Her paws landed true, and her jaws closed around the warm body before it could even squeak. The mouse went limp, and Blazepaw stood there, stunned by her own success.

She'd done it. She'd caught prey.

Pride swelled in her chest as she carried her catch back to the training hollow. Graypaw was already there with a small bird, and Ravenpaw limped in shortly after with nothing, his head low.

But Blazepaw barely noticed. She laid the mouse at Tigerclaw's paws, her tail high.

The massive warrior looked down at it, then at her. For just a moment, something that might have been approval flickered in his eyes.

"Acceptable," he said gruffly. "For a first catch."

From Tigerclaw, Blazepaw realized, that was high praise indeed.

"Well done," Lionheart purred, touching his nose to her ear. The gesture was warm and proud, and Blazepaw felt like she could float.

As they headed back to camp, Graypaw chattering excitedly beside her about their catches, Blazepaw realized something had shifted. She wasn't just playing at being a Clan cat anymore.

She was becoming one. A true apprentice of ThunderClan.