Several days went by. The visions stopped, but the training continued. There was scarcely a moment to rest. Brinepaw was kept outside from dawn to dusk, fighting new opponents and discovering new ways of making the water bend to his will. Covestorm had protested Almondstar's methods multiple times, but his disapproval only seemed to egg her on further.

          One day, something occurred to Brinepaw.

          "What if there's no water nearby when WaveClan attacks?" he asked Almondstar.

          "That won't happen," his leader replied with confidence, "We will wait patiently for their siege on our camp. Then you will have the entire ocean at your disposal."

          Brinepaw frowned at her, "But how can you be sure they're even coming?"

          "They're coming, Brinepaw. Just wait."

         And that was the end of it. Now more than ever, it seemed impossible to have a real conversation with Almondstar. Brinepaw worried that her reasoning had been affected by everything that was going on with Adderstar, but there was nothing he could do about it. He supposed she would have to find her own way out of the darkness. And when she did, maybe then she could finally resume proper leadership of TideClan.

The senior warriors were beginning to grow uneasy. Everything had changed. Otherwise perfectly normal days were tainted with the potential of war. Training their apprentices no longer meant hunting or climbing or tracking practice, it meant pitting them against one another and against Brinepaw. At this point, bloodshed between clans seemed inevitable.

Brinepaw's head spun, but he managed to pull his attention back to the session. His cloudy vision cleared to reveal Sunclaw plowing through the shallows, his green eyes flaming. Brinepaw huffed as he pushed Sunclaw back with water-swathed paws. The golden tabby warrior toppled over with a splash, his white legs flying up into the air.

"Very good!" Almondstar shouted, bounding into the waves, "That's enough for now," she told Brinepaw, "We'll end early today. Take some time to relax and allow your body to recover. You'll need your strength for tomorrow."

Brinepaw dipped his head respectfully, though his stomach twisted at the thought of what she had planned for tomorrow. Almondstar smiled at him, and if it weren't for everything she was, Brinepaw could've believed there was kindness in that smile.

She turned away abruptly and called to her warriors. Sunclaw and the others flocked to her, ready to depart.

The big-bodied apprentice watched as they left the beach and plodded up the grassy hill that would lead them to the camp. A breeze passed over the coast, but Brinepaw's fur was too damp and matted with salt to stir in the brisk wind. He sat motionlessly along the water, unsure of where to go next.

He didn't want to follow them back to camp, but he really didn't want to stay where he was.

Just as he was getting up, a rusty-colored figure appeared over the hill. The figure had darker red markings and creamy white chest fur.

"Burnetpaw!" Brinepaw exclaimed as he ran to meet the tom, "What are you doing here?"

"I saw Almondstar and the others returning to camp, so I assumed you must be finished for the day."

Brinepaw sighed, "Finally."

Burnetpaw looked sad for a moment, but then he perked up. "Hey, do you wanna go hunting? We don't have to if you're too tired, but maybe just a stroll through the forest?"

Truthfully, Brinepaw was exhausted, but for all the wrong reasons. He decided he'd rather be exhausted from tramping around the woods with his best friend than from Almondstar's countless training sessions. So he nodded enthusiastically in response, "Sure. That sounds great."

"Okay!" Burnetpaw was so happy he leapt for joy, "Let's get going then."

Together, they set out over the rise and headed for the distant trees. The verdant forest leaves looked golden under the bright sunlight. It was hot, but not too hot. Brinepaw felt rather comfortable. His coat was still frosted by little droplets of saltwater, so the slight breeze cooled him as he walked. And except for the waves crashing behind them, it was peaceful and quiet. A few seagulls hopped around in the grass, but they made no noise. There was a fat, green caterpillar on a strand of grass up ahead and butterflies flapping lazily through the air.

About halfway to the forest, Burnetpaw jumped in surprise as a brown snake slithered through the long grass and down a small tunnel.

"It's just a snake, mouse-brain," Brinepaw laughed, bumping his friend's shoulder lightly.

"I know," Burnetpaw retorted, "I wasn't scared."

"Sure you weren't."

"Hey! Shut up!" Burnetpaw demanded. He still sounded a little shaken.

Brinepaw hared away from him, guffawing with laughter. Burnetpaw chased him, his tiny feet pounding the field as he ran.

They raced around the open meadow, passing bunches of colorful flowers and bouncing over fallen logs. Brinepaw felt a lightness in his step that he hadn't experienced in quite some time. His heart felt warm and fuzzy.

"Get back here!" Burnetpaw panted, beginning to slow down.

Brinepaw turned around. "What's the matter?" he teased, "Out of shape?"

"Absolutely not," Burnetpaw argued, but he was breathing so hard he was barely able to get the words out. "Honestly, Brinepaw, you used to be the slowest apprentice in the den. But now suddenly you're not only the fastest, but the most capable."

"You're wrong," Brinepaw said, "Milkpaw is still way faster than me. Bluepaw, too."

"Maybe," admitted Burnetpaw, "But even so, you've really come a long way."

They resumed walking. Brinepaw shrugged, "I guess. I mean, Almondstar's been working me really hard."

Burnetpaw opened his hazel eyes wide, "I know! It's crazy! It's like you never have any time to enjoy yourself anymore."

Brinepaw wasn't sure how much he'd enjoyed himself even before all the training. He was always worrying. He was always upset. At least now there was something to distract him from everything he was feeling. He wanted to tell Burnetpaw this, but he couldn't figure out a way to say it without sounding like he needed help. Every cat had problems. He was just too stupid to sort out his problems on his own. But he would keep trying. He didn't want to disturb anyone.

After all, that was just life, right? Life was tough and demanding and sad sometimes.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," Brinepaw answered glumly.

His friend sighed, "Sorry, Brinepaw. I didn't mean to bum you out. Let's just focus on having a good time, okay? This is the first you've been free in days. We can finally hang out again."

"You're right," agreed Brinepaw. He tried to push his intruding thoughts away. Burnetpaw still looked concerned, so he attempted to lighten the mood. He offered a weak smile, "Seriously though, why did you get so startled by that snake? That was just ridiculous."

Burnetpaw's whiskers twitched with amusement, "You don't have to be so rude about it," he meowed, "I just wasn't expecting it, that's all."

"Why not?" Brinepaw pressed, "These fields are packed with snakes."

          "Okay, okay, I get it. Do you really want to know why?"

          "Yes."

          "Okay. Well, this is pretty embarrassing, but I guess I was just caught off guard because I was so lost in thought."

           Now Brinepaw was interested. "What were you thinking about?"

          Burnetpaw bowed his head shyly as he padded along. They were nearing the woods now. "I was thinking about how this is so wonderful," murmured Burnetpaw, his heather-hued eyes soft with genuine happiness.

          "What do you mean?" asked Brinepaw.

          "All of this. The light, the air, the feeling of freedom. The birds above our heads and the beetles beneath our toes. It's all just amazing. Life is amazing."

          Brinepaw wished he could share in his friend's delight, but he just looked at Burnetpaw with a perplexed expression.

          They entered the shade of the trees and Burnetpaw breathed in deeply. "And this," he said, "Now there is moss and shadows and chirping crickets."

          Brinepaw gazed around at the greenery and the plants. It was beautiful. The frequent newleaf storms had ushered in a bounty of flourishing undergrowth. Everything was healthy and well-watered. The flowers were entering full bloom as greenleaf made its rapid approach. The floor was thick with lichen and pine needles.

          For once, Brinepaw thought he understood what Burnetpaw meant. He could see the beauty. There was no denying it. It was right there before him.

          "What a wonderful world," Brinepaw ventured, but the sentence felt wrong even as he spoke it.

          Burnetpaw blinked at him fondly, "What a wonderful world indeed!"

          He was so very happy all the time, Brinepaw wondered how he did it. Where had he acquired such an incredible zest for life? How did he manage to forgive the world for all of the evil that existed within it? How could he possibly love so deeply in spite of how wretched everyone was? Burnetpaw was truly unlike any other cat in the clan. He had a pure soul.

          All he wanted was to go on living. Each new day brought him such excitement and such pleasure that he couldn't imagine anything better.

          In contrast, all Brinepaw wanted was to stop living. He'd given up a long time ago, but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible to stop existing completely.

Brinepaw was more confused now than ever before. At the gathering, his life had changed forever. And the recurring visions of smoke and fire disturbed and frightened him. He'd tried to kill himself, but Ghost had miraculously healed him. And who was Ghost? Why was he so involved? And then there was the question of his powers. Where had they come from, and what were they for? None of it was logical. None of it was realistic. And yet it was so real.

He listened to his paws shuffle against the tender grass and allowed the sound to fill his mind and block out the unpleasant thoughts. Burnetpaw was ahead of him now, his fluffy tail raised gleefully in the air. His tabby stripes blended in well with the woodland setting. He stopped and rotated his dark ears, his tail dropping and falling still.

Brinepaw observed curiously as Burnetpaw shifted his body to face a young maple tree. Then he noticed the plump squirrel sitting in the crook of two of its tree limbs. The bushy-tailed animal was completely unaware of the presence of danger. It remained in place, cleaning its paws and blinking its huge, shining black eyes. Burnetpaw crouched and waggled his haunches.

It was strange watching his clanmate hunt. Brinepaw had grown so used to his method of hunting that he couldn't imagine ever doing it the regular way again. Before the gathering, the majority of Brinepaw's attempts at catching prey were wildly unsuccessful. He'd embarrassed himself plenty of times and gone to bed hungry even more, too ashamed of his incompetence to take something from the pile. Covestorm had always assured him that it was fine to eat, even when he'd failed to catch anything, but Brinepaw couldn't see how that could possibly be true. It was a warrior's responsibility to provide for his or her clan. At least now, thanks to his odd gift, he could go home with something to show for himself.

Burnetpaw bolted across the ground and sprung into the tree, pinning the squirrel against the wood with one paw. Swiftly, while clutching the bark with his claws, he leaned down and nipped the squirrel's neck.

It was a clean kill. Burnetpaw landed back on the ground with the prey dangling from his jaws. He grinned proudly.

"Well done," mewed Brinepaw.

"Thanks!" Burnetpaw said, dropping his prey, "Now it's your turn."

Brinepaw looked at him hesitantly, "There's no water here..."

"I know there's no water here, silly," Burnetpaw chuckled, "You have to hunt normally!"

Brinepaw shook his head. Not only did he despise being called 'silly', but he also refused to do any conventional hunting. He wasn't any good at it before, and surely nothing had changed since then.

"Come on, Brinepaw!" Burnetpaw begged, "Just try it."

"I'm horrible at hunting," protested Brinepaw, "You know that."

Before Burnetpaw could reply, there was a scuttling in the branches. Brinepaw glanced upwards to see a cute robin popping around in the light green canopy of a birch tree. He looked back at his friend, who was waiting expectantly.

"Fine," Brinepaw groaned, waltzing over to the base of the slender tree.

He climbed the trunk as quietly as he could manage, but the bark was papery and he kept sliding back down. The slippery white rind peeled away under his claws as he ascended towards the scarlet-chested bird. Finally, he lay on top of a skinny branch that sat directly over where the robin was settled. Brinepaw was surprised he'd come this far without scaring the bird away, but he was thankful for this apparent stroke of luck.

The robin cocked its head from side to side and thrust its yellow beak back and forth. Brinepaw let out a slow breath as he prepared to pounce.

He could see Burnetpaw through the branches, watching hopefully from the ground. Brinepaw couldn't disappoint him now.

He dropped from his perch and crushed the robin easily. But with the weight of his fall, he also took down the branch the robin had been roosting on. Brinepaw yelped as he landed in the dirt with a whump. Burnetpaw made no effort to stifle his laughter, flopping over on his back in absolute gaiety.

Brinepaw winced as he pushed himself back up. The robin lay smooshed in the soil, blood and guts spilling out from its body. Brinepaw couldn't believe what a sloppy kill it was.

He looked back and forth between the messy robin and his cackling friend. Suddenly it was very funny to him as well. He broke into a fit of giggles, collapsing on the earth next to Burnetpaw and rolling back and forth with his paws sprawled up towards the sky.

It took them a long time to calm down. When at last the laughter had ceased to a point where Brinepaw could hear the bugs again, he realized that his stomach ached with all of the laughs. He beamed up at the spread of rippling peridot leaves. He understood why Burnetpaw was so happy all the time. It must be because no matter where he was, he was always with himself. Brinepaw thought maybe if he were with Burnetpaw all the time, he'd feel the same way.

How lucky he is to be someone likable. If I liked myself, being alone wouldn't be so bad.

But in this moment he wasn't alone. He turned his head until his cheek was mashed against the stinky dirt. Burnetpaw was staring up at the trees. At least, that's what it looked like. But upon closer inspection, Brinepaw saw that he was actually staring past the trees, to the blue newleaf sky.

Brinepaw felt somewhat delirious as a rare state of ecstasy took over his conscious. It was a little uncomfortable. This happiness wasn't natural or sustainable. But it was the only form of feeling okay that Brinepaw knew, so he took what he could get.