Rockpaw slid down the steep slope of grass. Dust puffed up to meet his face. Eyes watering, he skidded into a slow trot behind Mousefoot and Silverwhisker. AirClan cats padded in a loosely-packed crowd in front of him. Under a moon had past, since Blossompaw's coughing incident, and Owlstar stills scowled when she saw them near each other.

Rockpaw huffed, and gazed around him, admiring the gentle beauty of the territories. He glanced over his shoulder and saw, above the stinking dirt Thunderpath, the mountains of AirClan, glowing a faint silver in the moonlight. A warmth spread in his chest, as he saw his bountiful Clan's land in its night-time grace.

To his right, the river shimmered with stars, a StarClan cat's pelt stretched on across the lake, and beyond. The Prussian blue sky was littered with luminous pinpricks, all glowing with a pearly light, each allegedly, with their own story to tell. Rockpaw closed his eyes and breathed in the cool night air. It filled his lungs, tickling his chest, and a serene rush of air flew past him. For once, in this StarClan-cursed season it seemed, his skin felt fresh, his sandy-grey-brown pelt-

"Ow!"

Rockpaw's nose hit somecat's rump. He opened his eyes to see short blue-grey fur filling his vision. Silverwhisker leaped back, snarling, "Watch where you're going, you rabbit-brain!" Her green eyes blazed.

Mousefoot peered over his grey shoulder to sneer at Rockpaw. He muttered to his mate, "Ignore him, dear. He's such a badger-foot, you wouldn't believe it."

Silverwhisker whipped away from Rockpaw, and blinked lovingly at Mousefoot, murmuring, "Our three-and-a-half moon old kit are better behaved than him."

"I know..."

Rockpaw let their spiteful comments fade away, as he flattened his ears to his skull. His fur started to bristle, but he forced himself to start breathing again.

Why does Mousedung hate me so much? He wondered silently, wishing he could rake his claws over his mentors nose, just to show him how badger-footed he really was. He couldn't think of a single way he was badger-footed! He stalked rabbits without making the tiniest of sounds. He climbed up the Serpent Stones and back down, without disturbing a single snake. That Twoleg-breathed, fox-hearted, sap-brained piece of mouse-d-

"Rockpaw?" His mentor called out.

"Yes, Mousedung?" Rockpaw answered distractedly.

A few heartbeats of silence passed, before Rockpaw threw his head up and, wincing, corrected himself hastily, "Yes, Mousefoot?"

The grey tabby glared at him from a few tail-lengths away. He gestured ahead of them, and scoffed, "We're going to the Gathering. Or have you forgotten, like that time when you left whole catch behind and that fox got to it?"

Rockpaw's ears burned, and he stammered angrily, "That's not what happened!" He glanced around him and saw that most of his Clanmates had already dipped over the rise of the FiveHills.

With one last theatrical sigh, Mousefoot followed Silverwhisker's fluffy tail-tip down the grassy hillside. Rockpaw quickly ran after him, his ears still flaming. He leaped over a tufty patch of young ferns and trundled down the slope. His nose filled with the jumbled-up scents of the four other Clans. He tried to distinguish them as he dodged small, deep-set rocks. The cats that reeked like fish and damp moss belonged to LakeClan. NightClan cats were similar, but they had a stronger, more mould-like tang to them. SunClan always smelt of dusty bedding and fresh plant shoots. And finally, LeafClan had a thicker smell, it was of the warm breeze and musky Sequoia bark, sometimes the faint smell of birds and feathers clung to their pelts.

A soft, gentle breeze brushed his thick fur, lifting it slightly. The full moon glowed brightly in the cloudless sky, spilling streams of light into the hollow. It was like a leaf at dawn, filled to the brim with gleaming dew. Rockpaw closed his eyes again, and breathed in slowly through his nose, and out through his mouth.

Noticing that he had slowed down to a slow walk, Rockpaw sped up, and finally reached the bottom of the hollow. The grass felt nice and cool under his sore pads. Mousefoot had insisted to Owlstar that he needed to start his tunnelling training. Nowadays, an AirClan cat would learn all three ancient WindClan techniques: hunting, fighting, and tunnelling. Rockpaw didn't know if he disliked tunnelling. Sure, it was hard work, but it was so satisfying to hear the squelch of mud under his dry paws, and to feel pride that he would help shape the future of AirClan.

As Rockpaw padded through the murmuring crowd of cats, he wanted to talk to one in particular. However, he sensed Treepaw watching him from a few tail-lengths away. He glanced at her, and blinked slowly, before he sat down next to Scarclaw a fox-length away.

There were four other cats around him, all warriors it seemed and all toms. So Rockpaw nodded respectfully, as he settled down into a comfy patch of grass.

"Ah, Rockpaw! I was just about to go and find you." Scarclaw meowed in a breezy tone, smiling gently. "These are my friends." He nodded at the large black-and-white tom with bright blue eyes, "That's Crookedspirit - a warrior of SunClan." Then, he gestured to the glossy black tom with deep blue eyes, the golden tabby with blazing orange eyes, and the dark tortoiseshell who looked grim. "Ottertail, Lionwhisper and Lynxfall respectively."

Rockpaw murmured a formal greeting to each of them, before returning his gaze to Ottertail. Quite shyly, he asked, "Do you know Silentbird?"

"Yes... why?" Ottertail replied, looking slightly surprised and suspicious.

Rockpaw flittered his gaze to Scarclaw, then answered, "It's just that you look very similar. Your eyes are the same shade of blue."

Ottertail paused for a moment, before smiling. He looked at Scarclaw, grinning, "That's one smart kit you have there." Turning back to Rockpaw, he confirmed, "Yes, I'm in fact her father. How do you know her?"

Scarclaw smiled back and licked Rockpaw on top of his head, ruffling the fur between his ears. He patted it down and replied to the large tom, "Well, me met at the last Gathering. My... um... sister introduced me to her."

"Really? Blossompaw or Treepaw didn't mention anything." Scarclaw meowed questioningly.

"Well... um... no, they probably didn't..." Rockpaw stammered. He didn't know what to say. What if they started to ask more serious questions?

"Excuse me."

Rockpaw jumped and whipped around.

Silentbird stood a few kit-steps behind him, her fur gleaming a bright coppery brown in the moonlight. Her eyes shined like the lake, deep and graceful. Seeing them next to each other again, Rockpaw could see the clear resemblance between father and daughter.

Ottertail flicked his tail and meowed, "Hello, Silentbird. How are you?"

"Good thanks," she answered. She gestured towards Rockpaw, and mewed in her light voice, "Blackpaw wanted to meet him."

"That's nice." Scarclaw meowed, nudging Rockpaw's flank with a paw, "Go on. It'll be nice to meet some more cats of your age."

The group of toms murmured in agreement, and they started to talk about prey, battles and what not again.

Silentbird meowed a farewell and started to pad away. Rockpaw called out a goodbye as well and followed her hastily.

After a few moments of dodging crowds of cats, Rockpaw asked innocently, "So... Who's Blackpaw? What's he like?"

Silentbird didn't say anything. Instead she quickened her pace. Rockpaw almost lost her multiple times, having to leap out of others' way or go the long way around a crowd.

Finally, he saw her waiting for him near the outer Southern edge of the hollow. Further up the hill, he could see the Twoleg path that SunClan cats use to get to the Gatherings. Silentbird flicked her tail and blinked slowly. Rockpaw ran the last few tail-lengths up to her.

"So..." He began, slightly confused, "Where's Blackpaw? What does he look like? What Clan is he from?"

Silentbird look at him, her eyes glowing with exasperation and... something else.

She meowed quietly, "Blackpaw...? He's a dark grey tom from NightClan."

Rockpaw looked around, searching the nearby area for any apprentice-sized grey cats. He couldn't see any. "Where is he?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter..." Silentbird answered, in a voice quieter than Blossompaw's on a good day.

Word Count: 1411
Phew! Sorry that also took some time.
Hope you like it!