Leaves rustled. A bird called. Sounds of scurrying travelled through the forest.

    That was far from what she was looking for. The every day sounds of the forest would do very little to help her corner her prey. She listened closer.

    The hurried beating of a heart as a shrew ran past. The quiet flutter of wings as a magpie settled in the tree above. The swish of air as her own tail flicked in frustration.

    Get it together, she growled to herself. Her body stilled, her muscles tensed, and her ears pricked up higher than ever.

    Still nothing.

    She nearly cursed – but then she heard it. The soft patter of footsteps.

    By the time the tom came into view her legs were burning with the discipline required to stay still. Absolutely motionless, down to the end of her tail and the tips of her claws. She scolded herself as she realized she was grinding her fangs together with the anxiety of waiting.

    He came closer, ears up and nose twitching but never once seeming to notice her. She held her breath.

    She saw him start with surprise as she burst out of the bushes, but he recovered quickly. She was ready for him, swiping aside the paws the reached out to stop her, and hit her mark – his chest – just as originally planned. The tom fell beneath her and in one quick movement her fangs were at his throat.

    "Alright, alright, I get it, you won this time." He was terribly out of breath.

    "Just had to make sure, Flamestrike," she replied, letting him up. Settling before him, she wrapped her speckled tail over her white paws.

    He took a moment to shake out his ginger fur before turning to her. "That was very well done, Lightpaw. I had no idea you were there." She puffed out her chest proudly.

    "Only four moons into my training too," she pointed out. "Do you think I'll be a warrior soon?" Her hazel eyes widened with excitement at the thought.

    Flamestrike purred. "Perhaps. But there are still many things you need to learn. Dawnstar is widening the training regimen and wants apprentices trained in many more skills than they were before the rebellion."

    The rebellion. Lightpaw shivered.

    "Nothing to worry about," her mentor continued. "Based on how well you're already doing, you should have the rest of your skills in no time."

    The pale tortoiseshell brightened at that, bouncing to her paws. "Can we do more training today?"

    The ginger tom lifted his head to the sky, visible through the gaps in the fire-coloured leaves above. "It's well past sunhigh. We should be getting back. Spiderthorn wanted us on a border patrol at dusk."

    Lightpaw nodded, disappointed but knowing her duty to the Clan came first.

    "Practice your stealth on the way back," Flamestrike suggested. "Let's see how quiet you are when you're on the move."

    Eager to please, the apprentice softened her footsteps.

    //

    The camp was busy at this time of day, caught in that moment between the return and departure of patrols and mentors with their apprentices. Lightpaw noticed Duskwhisker and Newtfang entering the camp with Stormpaw and Yewpaw in tow, both apprentices looking tuckered out by their day of training.

    "Go talk to the other apprentices about training," Flamestrike said, following her gaze. "There's a lot you could all learn from each other." He padded off to join Dapplefrost and Smoketalon near the warriors' den.

    On her way to the apprentice den, Lightpaw stopped by the freshkill pile to pick out a robin. They were her favourite, though they had grown scrawny as leaf-fall progressed.

    Mouth stuffed with feathers, she became aware of eyes on her and turned to the Speaking Rock. Dawnstar and Spiderthorn sat together, sharing tongues, but kept a watchful eye on the Clan all the same. Lightpaw dipped her head respectfully to the leader and her mate before continuing on her way.

    Beetlepaw already had a half-eaten mouse before her and did not even look up as Lightpaw approached. The tortoiseshell cleared her throat as she settled down beside her.

    "Tough training today?" she asked.

    The dark she-cat nodded, tearing into the remains of the mouse. "Tell me about it. Dapplefrost nearly clawed my ears off."

    Lightpaw looked up at the older tortoiseshell, noticing how close together she and her own mentor sat. Dawnstar had announced their life-long pairing only a moon ago, along with Oakshade and Thistleshade's, and Blackstrike and Minkfur's.

    "I finally got Flamestrike today," Lightpaw said, trying her hardest not to boast. "He didn't even hear me coming."

    Beetlepaw grunted in response, a little bit grudgingly, and Lightpaw resolved to keep quiet. Her sister had always been abrasive, and her competitiveness had only increased when they became apprentices.

    "I'm ready to curl up in my nest." Yewpaw flopped down next to Lightpaw, Stormpaw settling down on his other side.

    "Spiderthorn worked me to the bone," Rainpaw admitted, flinching as she joined them. One of her back legs seemed strained.

    Beetlepaw snorted. "Just wait until our first assessment. After that, the skills they teach us will only get harder."

    Stormpaw gave his sister a sharp look. "Dapplefrost is hardly as demanding a mentor as Spiderthorn." He shifted closer to Rainpaw, taking his freshkill with him.

    At the mention of the deputy, Lightpaw looked up at the Speaking Rock. Spiderthorn had disappeared, most likely to organize dusk patrols, but Dawnstar continued to hold her head high. Their eyes met – amber against hazel, narrowed against wide-open – and the apprentice looked away. They were spitting images of each other aside from that one, seemingly crucial difference.

    She now found herself looking at Flamestrike, who waved his tail to call her over for their patrol. Behind him, Dapplefrost snickered at a comment Smoketalon had made, her head tilted cockily.

    "I'm off for patrol," Lightpaw told the other apprentices. Stormpaw and Rainpaw nodded, Yewpaw waving his tail in farewell. Beetlepaw yawned.

    "Don't choke on those mouse bones," the tortoiseshell added, a sudden surge of spite for her littermate filling her. "Would be a shame if you didn't make it to your first assessment, wouldn't it?" Beetlepaw's eyes narrowed but Lightpaw was gone before she could retort. She felt guilty immediately.

    The dusk patrol was comprised of Rowanstorm, one of the well-respected senior warriors, Oakshade, one of the Clan's best hunters, Shademask, a young, but loyal, tom, and Flamestrike and herself. From the way Rowanstorm scented the air, Lightpaw could tell they were heading for the sea cliffs first.

    "The scent of leaf-bare is blowing in," the older tabby commented. "The salt is much further inland."

    Lightpaw lifted her own nose, sniffing. Her mouth filled with brine as the salt hit her. Shaking her head to clear it, she fell into step between Flamestrike and Shademask.

    "I can't wait to see snow," she said, breath misting up in front of her as they neared the cooler air of the cliffs. She could vaguely remember the feel of snow, cold and crunchy underfoot, and the blinding white of the outside world.

    "I'm sure you'll also love the cold and going to sleep on an empty stomach," Shademask deadpanned, effectively shooting down her enthusiasm. She remained silent until they reached the sea.

    She had seen it many times before, but the sea never failed to take her breath away. The rhythmic crash of the waves, the way they shifted from pale to dark and, finally, crested over in a splash of white; it was so incredibly enchanting and absolutely life-threatening at the same time.

    The cliffs were void of life, most of the sea birds already gone now that the leaf-bare winds had come. A couple of gulls called in the distance, struggling against the blustering zephyr.

    The patrol turned back inland, travelling until rock became dirt and dirt gave way to grass, growing taller as the moved. Every so often, Lightpaw smelled the strong scent of DarkClan where the edge of the territory had been marked. The scent was strongest on top of a mountain of dirt, the soil not quite settled from when it had been churned up.

    Lightpaw had always wondered what the marker meant but knew that asking about anything that concerned DarkClan's past might result in punishment. Since the rebellion, the past had been a touchy subject with Dawnstar and, as far as Lightpaw was concerned, it was easier to stay silent than incur her wrath. Cherrypool had tested the DarkClan leader only once and now the entire Clan steered clear of that sort of talk.

    Yet, she couldn't ignore the way Oakshade dipped his head at the mound of dirt as they passed, marking it with his scent. She pushed her curiosity away.

    The plains were quiet too, though a scrawny hare crossed their path too quickly for any of them to catch it. Lightpaw remembered Shademask's earlier words and glanced his way. He was watching her in that silent way of his. She wondered if he was thinking about the same thing.

    "Looks like we should head back to camp," Rowanstorm decided as they approached a stone amongst the grasses, a small clearing around it. Here and there, holes in the ground suggested the area was rich with rabbits; the stale scent told Lightpaw that the burrows were abandoned, and had been for moons.

    And then, a different scent hit her nose, quite unlike anything she had ever smelled but familiar at the same time. Something dusty, a wisp of a passing wind, that left her throat feeling ashy and dry. It was not a natural smell, but the scent mixed with it, heavy with grief and bitter with anger, reminded her of someone she hardly remembered, someone she had been told to forget.

    They had all been ordered to forget. Forget the stories, the lies told to them by a cat who wished to overturn the rightful order of the world. Only Heatherfur's story remained true, untwisted by his words.

    But everything else was wrong. Everything else was meant to make them weak.

    Even before she became an apprentice, Lightpaw knew things were changing in DarkClan. Not too long after the night of the rebellion, Dawnstar announced that she had been visited by Heatherstar in a dream, telling her of the things that DarkClan needed to do to remain strong.

    The life-long pairings were announced first. Based on their strengths, members of the Clan were to be paired before their sixteenth moon of life to ensure strong lineages within the Clan.

    Then, came the healer's position. Once a disgraceful post, it was now filled by Reedpaw who did his best to heal any wound or illness. Without a healer, the Clan would perish, as it nearly had after the rebellion. Without a healer to take care of the wounded, many of the warriors became sick with fever.

    Caretakers were also eliminated, though queens now only spent four moons with their kits before they were to be apprenticed.

    And the truth-teller had ceased to exist.

    That was the scent she recognized, that grief and bitterness that came with losing something important. Once, it had been more cheerful, sunny even, full of the sweetness of hope and the tang of excitement. It used to fill the nursery, once a day, intertwined with words that spoke of freedom, of love.

    The words of a traitor.

    Lightpaw looked at Flamestrike, wondering if he could smell it too. But the rest of the patrol had already moved on, padding back out into the expanse of swaying yellow. She took one last sniff but all she could smell was stale rabbit. Was she imagining things? She had to be.

    Yet, her fur did not lie flat, even once she was tucked into the safety of her soft nest.

// It might be too early to ask, but I hope both POVs are interesting! Any Lightpaw fans out there? Or are there more Dewkit ones?