Teeth flashed in the sunlight as two bodies flew at each other through the still air. They collided with a heavy thump and writhed on the ground, stirring up dust. A growl emitted from the struggle, and a flash of swiping claws ended the fight.

Brackenpatch broke away from his opponent, haunches raised. Sootdust's dark body sank to the ground, and he lashed his tail daringly, a smirk on his face and a challenge in his eyes.

Sides heaving and nearly suffocating in the heat, Brackenpatch met his stare. They had been dueling for what felt like hours. But this was beneficial training for both of them, he realized. As young warriors, they both still had a lot to learn.

Without warning, he leapt at his best friend, and they were at it again.

Farther away, a young, ambitious kit watched with keen interest.

Leopardkit sat on the half-rock, her head stretched and shoulders squared as she gazed over the sun-bathed camp. The back of her spotted pelt was burning in the heat, and the stone warmed her paw pads. She could see why so many cats relished the half-rock during sun-high, but Leopardkit despised laziness. She was there for a different reason.

What warrior would waste their time basking when they could be fighting, hunting, and striving to be better?

The she-kit watched over the expanse of camp carefully. The clearing was mostly empty, save for a couple of warriors.

    This pair held Leopardkit's intent blue stare.

Sootdust and Brackenpatch regularly practiced their battle moves in the center of the stone hollow. The two young warriors were ambitious, overcoming the blazing midday heat because of their determination to improve. Leopardkit admired them for that.

Enthralled by their complex fighting, she was disappointed when the session ended and the two warriors finally left to retrieve fresh kill together, panting and leaving sweaty paw prints behind them. Leopardkit reluctantly left the half-rock and padded back toward the nursery, an arched bramble thicket.

    She was absorbed in her thoughts. The images of fleeting movement, slashing, and jumping flashed through her mind at an alarming rate. She always had trouble keeping up with the complicated battle techniques.

    But each day she grew more determined to master them.

The she-kit was startled when someone rushed out of the den, nearly stepping on her.

"Leopardkit!" Sandstreak snapped. "Where have you been?" The pale-furred she-cat's thin hackles rose as she chastised her daughter.

     Leopardkit sighed and rolled her eyes up at her mother. "I was just sitting on the half-rock. You don't have to worry about me every heartbeat of the day."

    Sandstreak narrowed her yellow eyes down at the spotted kit. "Have you been watching those young warriors fight again? I'll have to speak to Darkstar about that. Those two are bad influences–stirring up dust in the middle of camp, disturbing the peace..."

    "No!" Leopardkit interjected a little too quickly, her body tensing up. Sandstreak gave her a suspecting stare and the she-kit rushed to compose herself.

    "They're not doing anything wrong! They're just practicing!" Leopardkit protested. The tall queen scowled down at her, unconvinced.

     Leopardkit knew that if Darkstar, the revered leader of ThunderClan, spoke a word to Brackenpatch and Sootdust about their habit of battle training in camp, they wouldn't dare defy him and probably wouldn't put a pawstep in the stone hollow ever again. The monstrous black tom had a way of intimidating others purely by his looks.

    "Please, Sandstreak," Leopardkit pleaded, then felt a turmoil of anger for letting herself beg to her mother. She stared angrily at the ground.

     Sandstreak curled her lip in disgust, glancing across camp to where the pair of young toms sat sharing prey and nonchalantly conversing. Her fur spiked in irritation.

     "Fine. But when they begin training during the day, you will come inside the nursery," Sandstreak said firmly.

    Leopardkit's jaw dropped and disappointment flooded through her. "No!" she cried after her mother who was already turning to leave. "Sandstreak, I can take care of myself! I'll just sit on the half-rock–"

    The sand-colored she-cat peered over her shoulder. "No, you will not. And that's final." Sandstreak huffed in annoyance and stalked toward the nursery, her thin tail flicking out of sight behind the brambles.

Leopardkit pinched her eyes shut as the anger began to overwhelm her. She took deep breaths and slowly made her way into the nursery after her mother.

    She would find a way to convince Sandstreak that she should be able to watch the warriors. If not, then the queen wouldn't have to know about it...

    "Where do you think you're going?"

     Leopardkit's eyes blinked up at one of her brothers.

    Weedkit stood proudly at the entrance to the nursery, his scruffy black and white pelt fluffed up in anger. He peered down at his sister disdainfully, tail lashing.

     Leopardkit rolled her eyes. "Let me in, Weedkit," she growled irritably, stepping around him.

    This time she was blocked by another kit. Longkit looked very much like their mother; he had the same pale, sand-colored fur and narrow, demeaning eyes. "Sorry, no trespassers," he said scornfully to her. His eyes flitted over to Weedkit for approval.

    The black and white tom ignored him, putting on a stony expression as he faced Leopardkit. "We don't allow ShadowClan scum into our territory," he hissed.

    Leopardkit felt her blood boiling. She pinned back her ears. "Stop playing around!" she yowled angrily. She tried to step around them again.

    Weedkit quickly blocked her way and shoved her back heavily. He laughed mockingly at her shocked expression. "We're not playing, you stupid mouse-brain!" He gritted his teeth at her. "This is real."

    A high-pitched voice came from behind the two brothers, deeper into the nursery. "Weedkit, Longkit, let her through."

    A small black tom appeared behind them. He was strikingly thin with short fur and wide kitten-blue eyes. He glared at his two larger brothers.

    Weedkit laughed again. "Or what, Mousekit?" he said derisively, swinging around to face the tiny runt. He seemed amused by the challenge.

    The little black tom bared his teeth. "Or I'll make dirt in your nest."

     Weedkit seemed unfazed, showing his own fangs. "You wouldn't. Sandstreak would kill you," he retorted.

    "Watch me," Mousekit said seriously, holding his gaze.

     Longkit looked a little uneasy. Leopardkit could tell he really didn't want any dung in his nest. "I'm going to tell Sandstreak!" he suddenly squeaked, his brow furrowed in worry. He glanced over to Weedkit.

     The black and white kit nodded solemnly in agreement. "Let's go."

    The two larger kits trotted away, Weedkit shoving Leopardkit as he passed for good measure. She cursed under her breath when they were gone.

    "Are you okay?" Mousekit said with concern, padding up to her. His blue eyes were vibrant.

    Leopardkit narrowed her eyes at him. "Just leave me alone," she growled hatefully. She quickly bounded to the other side of the nursery before he could say anything else, and she settled down in her prickly, isolated nest.

Sandstreak had moved Leopardkit's bed away from her own for punishment after she had been rude to her a few days ago. In all honesty, the she-kit didn't mind sleeping on her own. She no longer had to jostle for space between her littermates when Weedkit and Longkit took up all the room in Sandstreak's nest, and she didn't have to suffer their taunts, shoves, and kicks. It was cool and peaceful over in her dark corner of the nursery.

As much as Leopardkit liked to believe that she enjoyed the isolation, sometimes deep into the night she would wake, shivering and cold. Then she would glance over and see Sandstreak, a great sleeping mound curled around her littermates lovingly. And Leopardkit would be overwhelmed with despair so strong, and all she wanted in those moments was to feel loved, to be feel comforted, to have warmth all around her.

But the rational part of her mind assured Leopardkit that she didn't need her family to become a great warrior. A fighter doesn't sleep at their mother's belly or let her groom them before going outside. Leopardkit decided she would be independent. Always.

Light pawsteps coming her way made the she-kit lift her head in annoyance. "What do you want?"

Mousekit ignored her bitterness. The little black-furred runt was the only sibling Leopardkit could tolerate. He didn't scorn or bully her. But that didn't mean she liked him. He was small, weak, unimportant.

"I was just wondering what you were doing outside earlier," Mousekit said causally, sitting down beside her nest. His thin tail curled around his tiny paws. She sighed. He would not be leaving for awhile. "You're always sneaking out at this time of day."

"It's none of your business," she growled, looking away from him.

    Mousekit shrugged, his bony shoulders bouncing. "Maybe not," he mused, his green eyes thoughtful. The black tom-kit suddenly stood up and began to walk away on thin, delicate legs.

    Leopardkit breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she would finally be left alone.

    "I just wanted to tell you, merely watching battle isn't going to make you any better."

    The she-kit's head snapped up, and she stared at Mousekit, her gaze a mixture of shock and anger. "You've been watching me?"

    The black tom ignored her, a smirk on his narrow face. "The real key to improving is exactly what Sootdust and Brackenpatch do everyday—practice."

    Leopardkit glared at him skeptically, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "How would you know?" she snapped.

    The runt shrugged again. "Just think about it. You'll never be able to perform the leap and twist, no matter how many times you go over it in your head, until you actually try it."

    Leopardkit bitterly realized that his words had some truth to them. Before she could say something snarky, Mousekit cut her off again.

     "But you really shouldn't be worrying about that now." He padded closer, and his high voice became softer. "It's good to have ambition, but we're just kits right now. Enjoy it while it lasts."

    Mousekit finally turned and padded away, leaving Leopardkit speechless.

    The spotted she-kit shifted uncomfortably in her nest. She had taken pride in her daily ritual of observing the warriors. It made her feel like she was one step ahead of her littermates—smarter and faster. But now, Mousekit had made her realize that all her efforts had been for nothing. She was just as weak and poorly-skilled as her fellow kits.

    Leopardkit felt exposed, intruded. Her mind was swarming with Mousekit's calm words. She finally fell into an uncomfortable sleep, her last thought a curious wonder about how her brother seemed to know so much.