Hesitant tongue brushed through unyielding fur.
Jaykit felt his mother's harsh tongue groom his fur, pressing the previously spiked tufts into a neatly pressed pelt.

"Nightcloud, I can do it myself!" He grumbled as she lapped at his flank.

"It's your apprenticing ceremony, Jaykit. I don't care how capable you think you are, I'm grooming you... You and your brother!" She added, twisting around to stare at the black-furred kit giggling in the corner of the nursery.

Jaykit gave a miserable sigh and allowed his mother to groom him. Between his sudden submission​ and desolate demeanour, Jaykit could tell he had concerned Nightcloud. Her tongue became more gentle against his fur, and her emotions dipped.
She said nothing, but Jaykit could practically hear her piecing​ her thoughts together.

The moorland had always had a sound to Jaykit. The reedy grass that lined the land felt like nourishment, giving off a positive energy of growth. But they always felt melancholy too - Jaykit didn't know why. Why did the grass sing in the newleaf winds? Why did the grass feel in a way that was different from cats? Why was the grass sad? Was it to do with the way they wilted and died under the harsh leaf-bare frosts that broke into snow, snow that caked the ground and froze the plants?

The world had that new-leaf swelter, between the bubbling cries of the curlew and the orchids that grow over the bodies lying deep within the earth.

Mulling over the energy that raced over the camp was a great passtime; Jaykit didn't have to think about the other things on his mind.

"Do you know who our mentors are?" Breezekit's mew split Jaykit's thoughts open.

This interested him. Pricking his triangular ears, Jaykit shifted his body towards his mother. He wouldn't let on, but he was desperate to hear the answer.

"No, I don't. Why would I, rabbitbrain? Only Harestar and your new mentors know who your mentors will be," Nightcloud's voice was soft and affectionate as she spoke to her kit.

Jaykit fought to control the bubbles of disappointment and fear that instantly clogged his throat. He felt like he had meat stuck in his gullet; it felt salty and painful against his esophagus. If he knew who his mentor was, then this fear inside him would lessen.

"Come on, Jaykit! Aren't you excited? We're going to be apprentices like Heatherpaw!" Breezekit crowed.

Jaykit didn't answer, he merely looked away. The tom could hear Breezekit's dancing pawsteps, skittering all over the nursery. He wasn't sure he could ever be an apprentice like Heatherpaw.

"I wonder who my mentor will be? I'm going to be a moor runner. Do you think it might be Leaftail?"
The light thump of his brother's movements stopped abruptly.
"Jaykit," Breezekit said breathily, right next to the grey tabby's ear. "Why aren't you excited?"

Jaykit once again didn't answer his brother. He seemed to shrink, wanting to be away from his brother and mother's questioning eyes. He felt defensive of them seeing him upset. What would Crowfeather say if he saw him like this?

"Yeah Jaykit, why aren't you excited? I'd give away my tail to be in your place!" Squeaked Crouchkit.

"Jaykit, is it because you can't be an apprentice? Since you're blind?" Larkkit's loud voice was grating against the air.

Everything went still. Jaykit's heart stopped, his breathing too. He could feel everyone stop dead still, and uncomfortableness filled the silence.

"Yes. It is." He snarled, turning away from the younger kit.

Immediately the air shifted as Nightcloud hurried over to him.
"Jaykit! Of course, you can become a warrior! What makes you think you couldn't?"

"Common sense," he replied. "Warriors need sight to hunt and fight. I don't have that." He was trying to be brave, but his voice came out shaky.

"Warriors use their nose and their ears too. Just ask Cranberrystripe! She's half blind, but she's an excellent tunneler."

He felt a flash of irritation.
"Yes, but she still has one eye to see!"

Nightcloud bent down. Jaykit could feel her warm breath on his muzzle.
"I promise you that you will become a warrior. If my Jaykit wants to be an apprentice, then that's what will happen. I don't care if I have to train you myself!"

"Harestar is a fair leader, Jaykit. I'm sure he'll give you a chance to prove yourself as a capable apprentice," the sensible voice of Sedgewhisker sounded from the corner of the nursery.

"Okay." He nodded, shaky pawed.

Nightcloud stayed crouching in front of him.
"Your father hasn't said anything to scare you, has he?" Her meow was dangerously low.

"N-no he hasn't." Jaykit squirmed in the heat of piercing gaze. His mother's glare stayed trained on him.

"All cats old enough to run through the moor join here beneath the Tallrock " Harestar's light call painted over the residual tension in the nursery.

Jaykit could hear the soft brush of paws over grass, hushed spider steps. The Clan was congregating below the Tallrock.

Jaypaw felt his heart split open his chest. Bleeding out over the ground. Staining his fur red. Pooling at his feet.

"Come on kits,"Nightcloud was practically vibrating as she spoke. "Jaykit, walk with me." She lay her tail across his back as she began walking.

Breezekit brushed against Jaykit.
"Jaypaw, there's no way Harestar wouldn't make you a warrior. If he doesn't, I'll shred him!"

Jaykit twitched his ear. He didn't want Breezekit's pity, but he had to admit, he was grateful for it.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"We're both gonna be the best warriors in WindClan and no one can stop us. I'll be leader and you can be deputy. Nightcloud and Crowfeather will be so proud of us!"

Jaykit scoffed. The day Crowfeather was proud of them would be the day the sky fell on them.

He followed Nightcloud through the gorse bush that contained the nursery, out into the blinding sunlight of camp. A yellowy redness burst across Jaykit's vision as the dappled shadow of the nursery gave way to blistering sunlight. Eyes poking holes in his skin, he could feel his clanmate's gaze on him and his family.
Feeling the heat, he tore himself away from his mother's​ tail. He knew camp well. He knew where to walk. He could mirror Breezekit's movements anyway.

"Sit down, kits." His mother whispered. The two obeyed.

"Breezekit," Harestar began. Jaykit could hear his brother stand and felt the air shift as his brother made his way past him, to the front of the crowd.

"Breezekit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Breezepaw. Your mentor will be Weaselfur. I hope Weaselfur will pass down all he knows on to you."

Jaykit, in spite of the dread that had moved in between his lungs, felt happy for his brother. Nightcloud had once told him that Weaselfur was a strong warrior; his strengths would amplify Breezepaw's.

Breezepaw. A new sound on the tongue.

"Weaselfur, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have shown yourself to be loyal and audacious. You will be the mentor of Breezepaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to him," Harestar continued with the ceremony.

Jaykit knew Breezepaw would now touch noses with his new mentor. He knew it was over when he heard the calls of his clanmates.
"Breezepaw, Breezepaw!" Jaykit joined in, swallowing the bitterness that seemed to have attached itself to his gums.

"Jaykit!" Harestar called out.

The feelings that Jaykit had denied himself from feeling cracked against his teeth as they resurfaced with a kind of violence that would leave him bloodied in the morning. That kind of hope that would break him again​, and again, and again.

In his shock, he hadn't moved. Nightcloud gave him an encouraging nudge with her nose, pushing him to his feet. On wobbling legs, he walked to the front of the crowd, very careful to avoid tripping over patches of overgrown grass or the many bodies that sat in the middle of camp.

A hurricane of thoughts battered around his head. I can be a warrior, Harestar thinks so! I can show Crowfeather that he can be proud of me!
Insect bites. What if Harestar makes me a medicine cat? StarClan no! The negative thoughts were back, like insect bites.

"Jaykit here is different from our usual kits."

Oh really​, Harestar? No one here would ever have guessed. Jaykit grumbled to himself.

"But I see no reason why that should prevent me from allowing him to train as a warrior. Jaykit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Jaypaw. Your mentor will be Cranberrystripe. I hope she will pass down all she knows on to you."

There was a moment of silence as Jaypaw and the rest of WindClan comprehended what they had just heard. Cranberrystripe was a tunneler... Jaypaw would be a tunneler? Tunneling was a prized and quite rare skill in WindClan, and becoming a tunneler was an unspeakable honour!

Jaypaw's feelings differed from his clanmates. He didn't feel the same joy of being a tunneler. That fact barely registered. His mentor was Cranberrystripe.
The molly who was blind in one eye.
Harestar couldn't be so cruel!

"Cranberrystripe, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have shown yourself to be resilient and clever. You will be the mentor of Jaypaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to him," Harestar spoke with a note of finality.

Jaypaw realised with a jolt that he needed to touch noses with his new mentor, and he could feel the awkward expectation of the crowd as their eyes watched him. He stepped forward to where he imagined she'd be standing, hoping that he wasn't about to embarrass himself in front of them all.

"That's right Jaypaw. Three more steps," a voice whispered to him. Cranberrystripe spoke with slurred words as if she was speaking through barely opened lips.

He came to a stop, and he felt a cold nose press against his own. He felt gratitude slip down his throat like cold water and beat it down immediately. It didn't matter that she'd saved him from humiliation. Being apprenticed to her was enough!

Harestar put us together because he thinks I can't be trained like a regular apprentice. Bile slipped through Jaypaw's teeth.

"Jaypaw, Jaypaw, Jaypaw!" The clamored cries of WindClan cut through the wind that carried over the moor, sweeping their voices along until the sound would become lost, indistinguishable from the sound of swaying heather, and the crunch of gorse.

Jaypaw could hear the group disband, and the spring of Harestar leaping from the Tallrock and landing on the grassland ground.

"Good choices, Nightcloud?" Harestar inquired.

Nightcloud's purr was her answer.
"I wouldn't have chosen any different myself."

Jaypaw lashed his tail. Couldn't they see he was unhappy? Why didn't he get a say? It was as if a whinchat had lifted him on soft wings only to let him crash to the ground. For one moment he believed he could be a normal apprentice. Then Harestar had chewed him up between his teeth and spat him out.

"Congratulations," a blank statement sounded from Jaypaw's right. "I hope you train well." Crowfeather turned in Jaypaw's direction. "A tunneler, Jaypaw? Well done. I wasn't expecting that."

Jaypaw didn't know how to react to that. I know you didn't expect that. You didn't expect me to become anything.
He felt acidic taste sting the insides of his cheeks. Disappointment.
Jaypaw turned to Breezepaw. He could tell his littermate was upset that Crowfeather had barely spoken to him, and had acknowledged Jaypaw instead.

"Thanks," he mumbled, unsure of what to say to his father.

"Breezepaw, we should start a tour of the territory. It's never too early to start training." Weaselfur stepped closer to his apprentice.

"Yes, Jaypaw and I should do that too. Even tunnelers need to know the above territory!" Cranberrystripe purred loudly. Her voice is so sweet. This will get on my nerves so much I'll never be able to concentrate. See, I knew Harestar made a mistake.

"Uh, are you sure that's a good idea? Jaypaw and Breezepaw will probably learn at a different pace." Weaselfur said.

"Don't worry, we won't slow you down," Jaypaw hissed.

Cranberrystripe lay her tail over his prickling shoulders.
"Jaypaw and I will go alone. We'll be looking out for different things than you moor runners," Cranberrystripe said with a polite smile. "Come on Jaypaw!"

He started walking after her, with nothing else to say.

"Do you want me to guide you?" She asked him over her shoulder. "I can rest my tail over your back if you'd like. "

Jaypaw winced. "I'm fine."
I'm not helpless! I'm not going to fall, or end up scrambling in a bush!

"If you say so!" Cranberrystripe chirped. "We're going to go to the horseplace border today, as well as the Thunderpath. Those are some of our borders; tomorrow we'll go to the ThunderClan border."

Jaypaw followed through the gorse tunnel, adapting his movement to walk up the slight slope. He could feel Cranberrystripe's hovering concern and brushed it off.

He felt the air free around him as he exited the tunnel. He was officially out of camp! He couldn't help but feel a blustery excitement. He still tasted poison around his teeth, but now it tasted slightly less bitter.

He could smell everything. The wind that sifted through his fur gave him scents of bird feathers, of faint prey blood, of heather and gorse, sundew and sorrel. Jaypaw fought the urge to do a happy skip. It was so freeing out on the open moor, but at the same time, it made him feel so vulnerable. He felt as if anything could prey on him, and it made his fur prickle.

"Watch out, there's some heather ahead!" His mentor called out.

"I already know that!" He snapped. It was true; he could smell the powerful earthy smell of heather in front of him. It felt thick in the air, clinging together while the other scents flowed around him, and with every step, it felt stronger.

He skirted around it. His throat prickled like he was being stung with stinging nettles. He wasn't a kit! His other sense were just as strong as other cat's sight.

Determined to show Cranberrystripe that he was more than capable of navigation, he broke into a gangly gallop, not having yet learned the graceful run of WindClan warriors. His movements choppy, he avoided patches of heather with ease, even running through it without trouble. The wind around him felt like survival, like new stars staining his fur.

Jaypaw crashed directly into a gorse bush, prickles scraping through his skin and fur. Pinpricks of pain opened a thousand tiny holes in his body, each a different shade of hurt. He scrambled to release himself from the bush's forced embrace, but only entangling himself further. The thorns ripped through his fur and skin, and one sliced a shallow cut across his nose. His eyes watered with the pain that spilled from the small wound. Desperation began to build up inside him as he writhed to free himself.

"Jaypaw, stop moving!" Cranberrystripe called. The sound of her voice brought on feelings of shame that soaked Jaypaw to the bone.

"Oh Jaypaw, what did you get yourself into?" The tortoiseshell molly said, worry and exasperation twined into her voice.

"A gorse bush, that's what!" Jaypaw hissed. He stopped struggling for a moment. Despite his bold words, embarrassment pooled at his feet.

He could hear the spiny bush tremble around him as his mentor entered it, delicately placing her paws on the ground, avoiding the thorns with a nimbleness that rivaled that of a deer. "Stand still and I'll get you out of here," She instructed. Jaypaw could feel the heat of her soundless breath as her teeth clenched around the branch that Jaypaw had somehow trapped himself in. As soon as she removed the branch, her pelt brushed against his as she lead him out of the bush.

He kept his complaints locked inside his violently bruised mouth.

Blunt air replaced the prison he had so briefly been encased in. It felt like release, though something about the gorse had felt comforting, despite the pain and the humiliation.

"StarClan, Jaypaw, look what you've done," Cranberrystripe tutted as she paced around him. "We should go back to camp and get Kestrelflight to take a look at you."

"No!" A blaring alarm rang inside Jaypaw's head. Imagine if his Clanmates saw this? No, they couldn't. The shame would be too much to bear.
"I think I'll just keep walking," He told her.

Cranberrystripe let out an incredulous laugh, it was a harsh sound, much different from her usual dandelion fluff and sunbeam kindness.

"No, you won't." Her gaze held a trembling disbelief in their green depths. "Here, let me pull them out. We'll keep going, but the moment we get back to camp you'll be going to see Kestrelflight. And you're staying right by my side from now on."

Jaypaw nodded with a sigh. "I can get them out myself!" He protested as he felt her teeth tug out a barb buried in his chest.

"It'll be easier if I did it," she answered through gritted teeth. Jaypaw stood stiffly as she plucked thorns from his body, peppering his body efficiently and with an odd lack of emotion. Jaypaw turned his head to the left, not wanting to meet his mentor's eyes.

"Let's just move on. I want to know what tunnelers need to know about the above territory." He said, over-enunciating each word.

Cranberrystripe shot him a look. "This is the first time I've seen you acknowledge your new position. Can't you believe it? You're training to be a tunneler!" She waved her tail. "You should be feeling so lucky right now. This is something most WindClanners only dream of!"

Yeah, but most WindClanners don't dream about being blind! I'm not as rabbit-brained as you think I am. I know I'm only a tunneler because Harestar didn't think I could be a moor runner!

"Yeah, I'm really happy about it. I guess I just haven't processed it yet." He mumbled, barely managing to drag up any enthusiasm. His seemingly withered apathy only sugarcoated the space between them, concealing the broken bones that protruded from his chest, bitter-born and tender.

"You know, becoming a tunneler was the best day of my life," the molly said softly, the words sifting from her mouth like drizzle that coated the heathland before rainfall.

Jaypaw asked for no more, and she didn't elaborate. The silence felt artificual and awkward. It bumped into Jaypaw at all the wrong angles, crashing into his shoulder and against his chin, snapping past his underbelly and knocking against his teeth. It wasn't a natural silence, it didn't curl around his ribcage and make a nest inside him. It didn't visit and depart like the gentle touch of greenleaf. It was harsh and clumsy, uncomfortable.

He knew Cranberrystripe didn't enjoy the quiet like he did, he knew she was probably biting her tongue. He knew he had been acting strange today. Shocked and shaky. But Jaypaw had never learned the art of plastering happiness over any other emotion. He let his hurt lap at the top of his throat, spilling over as frustration and short words.
He didn't know if it bothered him.

"Jaypaw, understand that this isn't just a leisurely stroll," Cranberrystripe said suddenly. "We're training! Tell me, what does a tunneler need to know about the above world?"

Jaypaw scuffed his paw. "Isn't that what you're supposed to be teaching me?"

Cranberrystripe ignored his remark, though he could feel her gaze upon his.
"Jaypaw, you're an apprentice now. Try to be eager about learning! Come on, give me an answer. I don't care if it's wrong."

Jaypaw felt a growl deep inside his chest. Her tone was too bright. It annoyed him.
"I don't know. I guess tunnelers need to know what the territory looks like from above so we know where we are underground?" The grey tabby muttered.

"You're right, we do! Tunnelers need to know what the moor looks like. After all, if we didn't, what would be the point of our job?" Cranberrystripe answered brightly. "We need to know where we are under the territory at all times. Otherwise, we could easily get lost. And to know where we are under the territory, we need to know the territory inside out!" She took a breath. "That's not the only reason though. Sometimes the above terrain can give us clues into what the soil in the tunnels is like. See, a patch of ground that gets a lot of rain is going to have wetter soil than tunnels under a covered part of the ground."

Jaypaw nodded. "I get that."
A slight happiness singed the sides of his rib-cage. Regurgitating the feeling, it tasted like ash, coating his mouth in a suffocating paste. Being a tunneler doesn't feel so great when it's only because they think I can't be a moor runner.

Huh. Happiness doesn't feel too good when you really think about it.