“Jaypaw? Harestar wants to see you.”

The silver tabby took in a deep breath. Great. His meeting with Harestar. He stood, trying to make sense of his feelings. On one whisker, he could finally convince Harestar to change his apprenticeship. But on the other whisker, he didn’t want his Clan leader to he angry at him.

He pulled himself from his den with a sigh. The grass clung to him as if it were trying to drag him back to his nest, a desperate attempt to stop him from leaving.

“Come on Jaypaw,” Kestrelflight meowed. Sympathy hung over his tongue. He crushed his concern into a fine powder that he spat with each word, spraying into Jaypaw’s fur.

Jaypaw flicked his ear in acknowledgment and walked alongside the medicine cat.

“Harestar is fair. He’ll hear you out,” the bitter-scented tom spoke again. His words did nothing more than deepen Jaypaw’s mood. He didn’t want to have a big talking to about his attitude.
And what if Harestar told Nightcloud? She’d demand to mentor him herself and decide that everything was Cranberrystripe’s fault. And if he told Crowfeather...his father already believed he shouldn’t be a warrior. Hearing that his son was yelling at warriors would make Crowfeather never talk to him again! But of course, he rarely did.

They strode over to a large boulder; the medicine den. That same collection of bitter smells Jaypaw scented on Kestrelflight hung around the nursery. Jaypaw wrinkled his nose at the plant‘s scent drifting from within the crevice in the rock.

“Thank you for fetching Jaypaw for me, Kestrelflight. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk with Cranberrystripe and Jaypaw alone first, and I’ll ask you or Emberfoot for advice if it’s necessary. Is that alright with you?” Harestar sounded usually serious; it was rare for the leader to act that way. Jaypaw was used to hearing his sunny tone and lighthearted words. 

“Of course, Harestar!” Kestrelflight said with a purr.

“Kestrelflight?” Cranberrystripe’s voice was low and questioning. It sounded strained and upset. Jaypaw couldn’t bring himself to be happy about that.

He said nothing but Jaypaw felt movement as Kestrelflight reached out to her. Whatever he did, Jaypaw didn’t know. It must’ve been reassuring because she let out a gusty sigh.

“Hello, Jaypaw.” Harestar’s voice carried a surprising warmth. Jaypaw expected to hear at the very least some suppressed anger but there wasn‘t any. Jaypaw wasn‘t able to see his body language, so for all he knew, the tom’s face might be contorted with rage.

“Can we discuss this away from camp? We shouldn't waste the day and I don’t want anyone to listen into this conversation or gossiping about it,” his mentor asked.

“I’d like to see how the tunnelling projects are going on,” Harestar agreed.

Jaypaw stood and followed the two out of camp. The last thing he wanted to do was give Harestar a walk-through of all the tunnelling projects!

Ahead of him, Harestar spoke again.
“We have an issue to sort out. I thought everything was running smoothly in WindClan when suddenly my medicine cat approaches me with a warrior I know dearly, telling me she’s having an issue with her apprentice that she wants to talk to me about.”

Harestar paused, breath moving in time with his light pawsteps.
“Now I tell her, ‘Cranberrystripe, surely you can sort this on your own? After all, you’re a grown warrior, older than I. What’s going on?’ My surprise deepens when she tells me this is a matter out of her paws. She tells me her apprentice is unhappy. He doesn’t like being a tunneler, he doesn’t like training, and he doesn’t like her. She tries to correct his attitude but he just finds himself even more miserable. She tells me she’s in despair, she thinks she’s doing something wrong and that I should transfer him to a more experienced mentor.” He took a breath, and to allow the other two to listen to what he was saying.

Jaypaw supposed he should be feeling guilty. But a kind of anger tore open his throat. A flame burst in his belly, licking at the lining and curling around the stem of his throat.

“Jaypaw,” Harestar spoke very gently as if speaking to a young kit. “Is this true? Are you unhappy? Do you not want to be a tunneler, or apprenticed to Cranberrystripe?”

Jaypaw opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t say if it were true or not. He felt like he wanted these things but they were all wrong.

“I want to be treated like a normal apprentice,” the words jumped out of his throat, plucked from between his incisors.

Harestar’s voice was pitying. “I’m sorry, but that’s just not possible. You’re not a normal apprentice. I know it can be hard to grow up differently from everyone else. But this is something you’ll just have to overcome.”

Jaypaw’s nostrils flared and a sudden headache beat against his skull. 
“The only reason you made me a tunneler is that I’m blind. And I don’t want that! I don’t want to be pitied by the Clan, given opportunities because ‘no one wants to tell little blind Jaypaw that he’s useless!’ I’d rather just leave!” He spat, glaring defiantly at his leader. 

Harestar stopped in front of the tunnel opening in the earth. Had Jaypaw not known where he was he would’ve crashed straight into the leader. Crowfeather would’ve banished him to ThunderClan had he done so!

“Do you honestly believe I made you a tunneler because I thought you would be useless at anything else?”

A brush of fur against his whiskers alerted jaypaw that his mentor had walked past him into the tunnel’s mouth. Jaypaw didn’t answer, instead, he ducked his head and followed Cranberrystripe’s lead into the darkness. The stifling atmosphere of the tunnels filled the empty spaces of his body, a cacoon inside him. But he still didn’t feel comfortable there.

Harestar sigh echoed around Jaypaw’s head, but there was nothing but concern in his tone when he spoke. “I promise you that I made you a tunneler for more reasons that your blindness. In fact, it wasn’t that big of a factor in my decision making. I made you a tunneler because it would be much easier for you to adapt because of your lack of sight, yes, and also because your other senses are remarkably strong. That’s very important in tunnelling. You’re rather small compared to other WindClan cats which is a typical tunneler trait. But you’re also cool and calm. I’ve seen you tumble around camp and go out the next day and do the same, again and again, despite getting all kinds of bruises and scrapes.”

“That’s because no one believed I could walk around camp on my own because of my stupid eyes!” Jaypaw muttered.

“That’s true,” Harestar hummed “but it showed me you had perseverance. I also remember when you and Breezekit picked a fight with a stray fox kit. When we discovered you were missing, Crowfeather’s heart just about stopped in panic. And your mother almost lay an egg in her horror!” Harestar’s voice bubbled over with joyful laughter.

Jaypaw started. He could only remember Crowfeather’s anger, not worry when that happened!

“Ah, do you remember that, Cranberrystripe?” Harestar turned to the molly, laughter and reminiscence unearthed in his words.
“And when they turned up again, unharmed, Breezekit was terrified out of his mind and ran straight back to Nightcloud. But Jaykit, no, he strolled into camp, cool as lake water, as if nothing had happened!” Harestar continued.

Cranberrystripe’s silence was the loudest sound in the tunnel. Her sadness in contrast with her usual easy happiness sucked the joyful memory dry and spat it out across the room. Jaypaw felt hot and sticky, uncomfortable in the knowledge that he had made her feel like this.

“Ah....no, but really. That day told me a lot about who you are. One, that you would cause your parents to retire into the elder’s den early, two, that you would grow into one fine warrior. A good tunneler needs to keep their head on in danger. You proved you could do it that day.”

The leader’s warm breath stirred his fur as the cinnamon tom leaned forward.
“Does that make you feel better about being a tunneler?”

Jaypaw paused. The tightness of anxiety in his chest loosened. He could breathe clearer now. He didn’t realise just how much the notion of being made a tunneler based solely on his blindness terrified him. He knew he hated it. His mouth was full of all the loathing he wanted to leave behind.

“But those traits you helped you decide my rank were all to do with my blindness. I was resilient because I had to prove I didn’t need someone to guide me around camp all the time, as if I’m completely helpless. And I kept calm because I... I don’t know. I can’t remember that day. I was terrified out of my fur though.” He set his jaw, a strange stubbornness seething inside him. He didn’t know why. But there was no Jaypaw without his blindness. The two were interconnected; they were twined into one being, tangled into a shape held together with fur and bone. Trying to deny that was simply wrong. It took away everything he dealt with due to his condition.

“Hmm. Maybe your blindness played a bigger role than I realised. But I still placed you into this role because of your traits, not because of your blindness directly. Sure, those traits developed because of your condition. But it was them that made you a tunneler. And that makes all the difference.”

Jaypaw wasn’t sure it was so simple, but Harestar’s words gave him a strange sensation. Everything was shaky now. It was like he was in an unfamiliar place, walking with hesitant step, unsure of where was safe to put his feet.

“Jaypaw, I need to put this at rest. Are you okay with being a tunneler? Do you want me to switch you to being a moor runner?” Harestar’s body jostled against Jaypaw’s as they turned to their right into a different tunnel. The ground under their paws dipped lower; the silver tabby dug his claws into the damp earth. 

A spark died in his throat. Tunneller...moor runner... He twitched the tip of his tail uncertainly. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He wondered where his conviction had gone. Jaypaw was a deserted moorland, devoid of thought.
“I, uh...”

“Okay,” Harestar walked in front of him, indicating that the tunnel would be narrowing. “I’m going to give you time to train as a tunneler, and then we’ll see how you feel then.”

Jaypaw felt his whiskers slide against the cool walls of the tunnel; he thought over this proposition for a while. He wanted to ask why Harestar cared so much, why he was giving him the option? But he didn’t want to draw their conversation out any longer.

“Is it me?” A desolate question forced its way into the conversation.
“I mean, is there something I’m doing wrong to make you dislike me?” Cranberrystripe’s choking meow drifted down the single file line of cats, leaving her words abandoned, waiting to be picked up by listening ears.

Jaypaw followed the footsteps of his companions left and felt only air around his whiskers. The air felt staler in this other tunnel. He was grateful that they’d chosen to have this conversation in private. He didn’t know what he would say next, and he definitely didn’t want word getting around of his and Cranberrystripe’s relationship.

“We’re at a dead end. This type of tunnel, round and small - I believe you tunnelers call it a pod?” Harestar’s meow halted him. “Anyway, sit down. We have one last thing to discuss.”

Jaypaw obeyed this command with little more than a sigh. He just wanted this all to be over.

“It’s not that I don’t like Cranberrystripe. I don’t like that you put me with her just because she’s blind,” he said honestly. He knew Harestar would demand more explanation, so he forced himself to keep speaking. “It feels like I’m being reduced to my blindness. That you don’t want to think about which mentor would fit who I am or who could teach me the best. You just gave me the blind cat because I’m blind, nothing else had to be thought about!”

Harestar let out a soft growl.
“I really thought we’d gone over this.” His voice took on a soft dialogue-heavy need.
“It seems to me that you’re the one reducing yourself to your blindness. You’re determined to believe that everything that’s happened to you is a result of your sight. And if you keep feeling that way you’ll let your condition become all that you are.”

Annoyance crackled through the silver tom.
“So you expect me to believe that the one blind cat just happened to fit me best? You’re saying you didn’t think about blindness at all? I see myself as only my condition because that’s all I’ve ever been seen as since birth!” He spat. All worries about disrespecting his leader had dissipated from his mind.

“Fine, you’re right this time! I did put you with Cranberrystripe because she’s partially blind! And that’s perfectly okay!” Harestar lost his temper. “You can learn best from her. She has the same rank as you and she’s the only one who can understand how you feel and how you see the world.”

“Just because she’s blind doesn’t mean she understands me! She’s only half blind! Cranberrystripe grew up with full sight and later lost her sight in one eye because of a disease or something. I’m fully blind! I’ve never been able to see! They’re not the same!” Jaypaw retorted. He bared his teeth in anger. Couldn’t Harestar see past his own nose? 

“He’s right.” Cranberrystripe meowed thoughtfully. “Just because two cats can catch a rabbit doesn’t mean they catch it the same way. One might direct them to a partner to kill them. One might chase them until they catch up and kill them 

Cranberrystripe jumped up in a quick motion, beginning to walk again. Jaypaw scrambled to his feet to follow her, sick of just sitting and talking. Harestar joined the two with a gusty sigh, coming up from behind them.

“Brightheart in ThunderClan, she’s half blind. She lost her eye in a traumatic injury while I gradually lost my sight because of an illness. But she sees her blindness as something to empowering, something she had to reclaim.” Cranberrystripe spoke quickly and breathlessly, her words jumping over each other in her haste to bring them into the world.
“I talked to her at a gathering once. She told me about how her Clan treated her. For me, I was surrounded with kindness. I was granted a rank where my blindness doesn’t cause any problems. Her blindness was unexpected and scary. Mine wasn’t. It slowly happened. I had plenty of time to adjust and come to terms with it. She didn’t.” Cranberrystripe continued, her voice wind-still and lullaby. A purr began to hum in between her words and lace through her lilts.

Relief sang wild from Jaypaw’s chest. Finally, someone understood! He wasn’t sure whether he liked Cranberrystripe or not. But he did know now that seeing her so unhappy was disturbing. Seeing such a positive cat’s spirit slip was disconcerting. Moth wings pressed against the inside of his skull as his relief dipped and deepened. He wanted to swallow the sweetness.

“Yes! This is what I’m trying to say!” He turned around to gaze imploringly at Harestar. “I don’t hate Cranberrystripe. I never have. I just feel like you’re putting us together because you think we feel the same things because we’re both blind but we’re not. Having the same condition doesn’t make us the same. It doesn’t make our experiences the same.” He waved his tail for emphasis, looking beseechingly at his leader.

“Shhh!” Cranberrystripe said suddenly. Jaypaw sucked in a breath of the stale air, startled by her sudden utterance.

“What? Is the tunnel going to cave in?” Panic thrummed lightly between Harestar’s words, stretching between wispy webs of spider silk.

“No!” The molly replied, her voice a hushed whisper. “It’s a rabbit. Not only that, but there’s a patrol up ahead. Can you hear their footsteps?”

“No,” Harestar said.

Jaypaw slunk forward. “I can,”

Cranberrystripe didn’t say anything, but Jaypaw could hear her swallow back a purr.
“Great! Okay, listen to their light feet overhead. They’re close to the opening. Let’s try and flush that rabbit out! Do what I do.” She instructed.

Jaypaw focused on Cranberrystripe’s movements, noting how she moved forward very slowly and lightly. He mirrored her movement, creeping forward. He tried to envision himself as transparent. The rabbit couldn’t see him, couldn’t feel him, couldn’t smell him. All it could smell was the heather thick and heavy in his fur.
He felt the weight of his mentor’s tail pressing on his shoulders, pushing him down. He obeyed, sinking to the ground.

He lifted one paw and then another, slowly inching forward, just a heartbeat behind his mentor. Her tail brushed him as quickly as lighting, signalling something. Cranberrystripe spring forward, giving chase. Jaypaw launched himself after her. He could feel the air get fresher and he could hear the thumps of the rabbit’s paws on the dirt. Giving chase, the two chased it toward the opening.

“Hare dung!” Cranberrystripe called, slowing to a halt. “It didn’t go up the opening,” she complained. She turned to Jaypaw, annoyance and pride intermingling in her voice. “Well, you did well for hunting underground for the first time!” She praised.

Jaypaw could sense her gaze on him and after all the drama between them, he felt quite uncomfortable in the heat of her stare, even if it was a friendly one.
“I look forward to doing it some more,” he said. He couldn’t bring himself to smile or even let some warmth into his voice, but Cranberrystripe purred loudly in response anyway.

“Well,” Harestar said, coming from behind Jaypaw. “I think we’ve solved the issue of who your mentor will be,”

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A/n: This chapter was a struggle to write because it's so dialogue-heavy with very little action. I hope it wasn't too dull!