Poppypaw woke up to the lazy half-warmth of the den and the new scents of the apprentice den, sweet on her tongue even after weeks of living there. She stretched out with a massive yawn, feeling every joint crack, and curled herself back up into a standing position. Her brother lay in the den beside her, eyes open, but he did not stir. She followed his line of sight out to the warriors of the clan, who were already going about their business. The other apprentices in their den passed them by, leaving in one large cluster, and Poppypaw was left with her hapless brother in the den.

"Bet our mentors need us," she told him, pawing his back. "Bet they're waiting on us right now."

Birchpaw gave a soft groan as she rubbed her paw around her brother's fur, smooshing his tubby kit fat left and right. He batted her away with one paw and Poppypaw jerked her paw back, green eyes still fixed on his.

"We should go."
Birchpaw rolled over, and Poppypaw rolled him over again with one paw and with a swift flick of her paw, knocked him out of the den. Birchpaw tensed up, scrunching his legs against his chest like a dead bug, and then swung the rest of the way up onto his paws. The two of them entered the camp together, and Sleetpaw and Birchpaw exchanged a look. Poppypaw tried to join in, but the two apprentices looked away sheepishly when Poppypaw cast her owl-eyed gaze over them both. "Poppypaw." Birchpaw said sternly, as if she'd done anything wrong.

"What?" Poppypaw asked, upset. "What were you trying to say to each other?"

"Nothing. We were just staring at each other." Birchpaw mewed, confused.

"There you are, furballs! Birchpaw, Poppypaw, we're meeting up with Sleetpaw, Carppaw, and their mentors for some battle practice. Sleetpaw and Carppaw haven't had much battle training either, so they won't be too hard to catch up with." Chicoryfur said, Martentuft at her side, and added teasingly, "That doesn't mean you can slack off, of course."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Birchpaw promised, sticking close to his mentor. The small group of cats were joined by Carppaw, Sleetpaw, Stormpath, and Cranewing. The latter looked nervous, as did his apprentice, while Sleetpaw and Stormpath had a confident swagger to their walk. Though Birchpaw was small, he lept through the leaves with the same energy he'd had as a kit, when he was in danger of falling behind. Now he could almost hide the added struggle his size impediment created, and his eyes were bright with newfound confidence. Poppypaw matched him near the front, guided occasionally by direction input by the mentors.

Poppypaw bounded over the hill in one soaring leap, landing over the edge and looking as if she'd conquered a mountain. She puffed as she returned to the side of her new mentor, who seemed on the whole unimpressed with her feats of athleticism. Still, nothing could dampen her excitement as the four warriors and their apprentices approached the training ground, a divot in the land where nothing grew but a sparse coat of grass. It was scuffed by wear, so that the land bore patches of dirt from particularly vicious battles, but for the most part the divot provided safe grounds for a felled opponent to land.

It was perfect. Martentuft drew near to his apprentice and asked, "Should we begin?" and Poppypaw shook her head with such force that she almost fell over. Martentuft purred and requested, "Can you show me a basic paw swipe?"

Poppypaw eagerly crouched, which they had practiced earlier, and struck out with one paw. "That's good," Martentuft told her. "You've got quick paws, which will be an asset in battle. Now, let's say I came at you like that... what then?"

Poppypaw sprung to the side and fell back into position in another cluster of grass, tail flicking like she was about to hunt. "I'd dodge," she told him.

Martentuft nodded. "Alright. I'm going to strike, but my claws will be sheathed. I need you to avoid and counter my attacks- can you do that?"

Poppypaw braced herself, and when the first kit came, lazily as if Martentuft had been batting a butterfly, Poppypaw careened out of the way. The apprentice struck over his blow at his chest, danced back, and waited for his next attack. He slowly upped the intensity, and while he was still slow, his massive size made his paws hard to get around. Poppypaw's attacks never hit below the fur, either, and while she didn't want to hurt her mentor, she was sure that if she fought such a large enemy in real combat, she'd have no chance. When she bored of the game, she asked, "If I was actually fighting you, and you wanted to hurt me, then what would I do?"
"Your claws will come in time. Until then, run and find someone shorter-pelted, or smaller. Don't fight if you stand no chance of winning."

Poppypaw's muzzle wrinkled in disgust. Her, flee a battle? She nodded anyways, but the idea was revolting. "Are you sure there's no way around it?"

Martentuft though, then decided, "The element of surprise. Furthermore, if your legs are strong enough, you might be able to leap right into my face... the idea isn't to take out my eyes, since warriors try not to maim opponents, but ear cuts bleed and are incredibly painful. Do you think you could get up to my ear, from the side?"

Poppypaw lept with all her might and batted Martentuft's ear. "Yeah!"

"Good. Now, this is a strange scenario, and with any luck you won't have to try it. Let's get back to strategies we can use on other apprentices. Do you know how to recover from a pin?"

Poppypaw nodded.

"Which pin?"

"There's... only one, right?"
"No, no... if your opponent has you by the neck, or by the chest, or if they have one paw atop your throat... those are all different scenarios. A back kick will help you if the opponent is right on top of you, but you may not get that kind of leverage if the warrior is off to the side, or if their teeth are around your neck. Now, whoever they are, it's unlikely they'll have teeth large enough to get around your whole throat, so you have two options. Either you can try a defensive roll towards the side they've struck their teeth into, so that you can recover from the side, or you can use a front paw to hit them so that they come off. This must be done with delicacy or you risk jamming their jaw or digging their teeth in further, none of which we want."

"Will they really try to go for my throat?" asked Poppypaw.

"I hope not, but if ShallowClan and RyeClan are truly going to fight again, or if Shallowstar believes they will... they've killed before. Be ready for anything."

The two continued, where Martentuft would explain or demonstrate moves and Poppypaw would follow, but by sunhigh the apprentice was getting twitchy again.

"Do you think they're ready to spar already?" asked Cranewing to the others.

"They're strong kits. I think we should at least give them the opportunity." Martentuft suggested.

"I'm no kit. I'm an apprentice of ShallowClan!" announced Poppypaw, chest puffed out far as it could go.

"You heard her. She's an apprentice." Stormpath purred, shouldering Martentuft. "She's more than ready."

"Good. First battle will be Carppaw and Birchpaw," Chicoryfur announced. The warriors backed away from the grass, towards the woods, and Sleetpaw and Poppypaw stepped back enough to give the two apprentices some room.

"Don't fail," Cranewing told his apprentice. It was awfully vague advice, Poppypaw reflected, but staring at her opponent was becoming tiresome. Whatever Sleetpaw and Birchpaw got out of gazing into each other's eyes like they held some shared secret, she couldn't understand it in the slightest.

The two clashed, paws and claws in a tussle of fury, but neither had a clear advantage. The calico tom squeaked as Carppaw, who was a good half-head taller, pounced and missed, then took advantage of the moment to bat him back.

Carppaw looked to his mentor for assistance, eyes round and kit-fur still blowing around the edge of his face.

"I th-think you can do better than that." Cranewing said.

Carppaw let out a cry of distress and lunged forwards at Birchpaw, and with claws unsheathed he swung his claw up the side of Birchpaw's leg. The apprentice screeched and fell down in the grass, and Carppaw, shocked by his own action, scooted back with a look of sheer terror on his face.

"Are you alright?" Chicoryfur asked, bending down beside her apprentice.

"It h-hurts," Birchpaw cried, and the scratch, long but not deep, began to trickle blood.

"We can go back to camp and get some prey, if you'd like. It might help to walk off the pain." suggested Chicoryfur, sympathy in her mew.

"Can I talk to Bluepetal? I want to get it checked."

"It's not a major scratch. If you get it bandaged up you might miss training time."

"That's fine. I think I'm done." Birchpaw admitted. He leaned on Chicoryfur as the warrior helped him back to camp. Poppypaw watched them go, tail twitching, until her mentor called her back.

"Do you want to go next?" asked Martentuft. "That is, if you're still willing to fight."

"Of course!" Poppypaw mewed, all her fear for her brother evaporating. An uneasy Sleetpaw entered the arena, and the two of them faced each other for mere seconds before bursting into battle.

Poppypaw flew through the air with every hit she landed on Sleetpaw, and though the gray apprentice was much bigger, Poppypaw had a vicious desire in her to win. The warriors looked concerned as they watched on, but no one said a word until Poppypaw finished by pinning Sleetpaw... she had almost gone for the neck, but heeding Martentuft's advice, she placed two paws around the apprentice's throat. Sleetpaw looked up at her, breathing heavily, and relented- his mentor hadn't taught him the proper counter. What was Stormpath doing?

"Good job," Martentuft told Poppypaw, and pride swept through the young apprentice. "You have a lot of promise, and you've worked hard this morning- though I noticed some of those pounces were sloppy."

The battles after that were much more relaxed, and Poppypaw found herself below some apprentice's paws more often than she found herself above them. Close to sundown, worry over her brother consumed her and Martentuft, noticing that his apprentice was hardly participating, decided to call it a day.

"You've done a great job. I think those older apprentices will work much harder with you on their tail."

Poppypaw butted against Martentuft and said, "They'd better! I don't want to have to start fighting warriors."

"Take it easy," Martentuft said as they came close to camp. "You don't want to catch anyone else hearing you say that. Now, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," Poppypaw repeated as the warrior moved through the crowd to find his friends and denmates. She felt her ears slide and wished tomorrow would come a little faster.

Birchpaw was dozing at the edge of the medicine den. Half his leg had been wrapped up in dock and spiderweb, as if he'd broken it wide open instead of merely scratched it. His eyes were downcast, and Poppypaw's heart twinged with emotion. Had her brother taken the loss that badly?

"Why are you upset?" asked Poppypaw, prodding his face. "You were having fun earlier."

"I'm not upset," Birchpaw said, upset.

"This is everything we ever worked for. Everything we ever wanted." Poppypaw pleaded. "Can't you be happy, at least for me?"

"No," Birchpaw reflected. "This isn't what I wanted."

"Then what do you even want?!"

"I want to know where Harvestmask came from, and who the Starkeepers are. I don't care about this." Birchpaw admitted. "It's just... busy work."

"Who even... who even cares what she is, or where she's from, or where she goes all the time? She's just awful, and she doesn't care about us, and she doesn't care about the clan. You know what she is? She's a burden on everyone around us. They took us in and fed us because she couldn't do it as a rogue, and if we... if we spend our whole lives acting like her, we're going to be burdens too! Doesn't that sound awful to you?"

"Poppypaw, you're being ridiculous." said Birchpaw, with all the stern authority of a warrior.

"Grah! I am not!" Poppypaw hated the way he even sounded like her, how dismissive he was, the stern expression on his face. She felt her claws slide out, and she swung out in frustration. Her paw moved like a viper, slicing across his face and missing his tender muzzle by inches. Birchpaw's eyes were wide with fear as her claws barely missed him, and the leg he'd just fixed trembled.

Bluepetal returned from the river with more herbs, and though Poppypaw knew she couldn't see what had taken place, the blind cat's nostrils dilated and Poppypaw realized that the medicine cat knew something. Too much. "Please leave my patient alone, Poppypaw. Go rest. It's late."

Poppypaw stormed off, tail swinging, and sat down next to the other apprentices with a pathetic mouse she'd snatched off the fresh-kill pile. For the most part, they were eager to ignore her, which she loathed, but even worse was Sleetpaw's pitying gaze. "Is Birchpaw alright?" asked Sleetpaw, turning to see Poppypaw on the outside, tearing her mouse to shreds.

"Oh, he's fine." Poppypaw huffed. What about me? I'm not okay! Ask about me!

"Okay," Sleetpaw said, and stuck his head back into the group.

When the others were long gone, the sun had set over the horizon, and the moon stuck its slender rays through the trees, mingled with starshine, Poppypaw finally buried the mouse's carcass, every bone picked bare and her muzzle covered in dried blood. Despite how small the morsel had been, there was now an icy fury in her stomach that trumped her hunger.

In the medicine den, Harvestmask and Bluepetal knelt beside her brother, who was still playing up his injury. They looked warm, and Bluepetal was purring.

"Tell me a story," Birchpaw insisted.

Poppypaw scoffed as she passed, undetected, and settled into the apprentice den. The other apprentices watched her, concerned, and she could feel their stares bore into the back of her pelt. "Go away," hissed Poppypaw. "I don't want to talk to any of you."

Sleep had no interest in taking Poppypaw that night, and when it at last grabbed her in its hawk talons, it dropped her back into consciousness just as fast, leaving her awake and trembling in the den that was primarily vacant and cold.

The apprentice tossed in her messy nest, eying the ring that the four older apprentices had made at the back, close enough to the wall that they could benefit from the warmth of the lived-in earth. Her nest, next to Birchpaw's empty one, was right in the center, which made her feel important and caught the light of the rising sun every morning.

Poppypaw caught Harvestmask and Birchpaw in the medicine den. Birchpaw and her formed a perfect, interlocking maze of fur, and it was hard to distinguish one from the other. Harvestmask's dark marking was turned outwards, so her head fell near the edge of the den, and her face seemed to fade away into the shadows of the den.

Poppypaw had never seen the queen so content. Was it because of her? Did she leave so often because she didn't want to deal with her other kit? Poppypaw felt a hunger gnaw at her stomach, but it wasn't for food. She could not, would not, enter the medicine den, and she would not return to the apprentice den.

"Martentuft?" Poppypaw meowed beneath her breath. She hadn't expected an answer, but she was still alarmed when she padded to the warrior's nest and found it vacant as her own.

Martentuft had disappeared.