Quietpaw crept out of the den into the broad daylight. It stung his eyes, and they had to blink to adjust to the sudden brightness. It had been a while since they'd had time to themself, even though it was reluctantly forced upon their shoulders.

Blue-tipped ears pricking, Quietpaw took in their surroundings. It was sunhigh, and warriors lazed about the camp, the scorching sun of New-leaf making the parched ground too hot to do much of anything, so the warriors spread out dried moss on the smooth rocks that are placed around the camp.

Thistletoe, a nervous-looking amber she-cat, and Birchfall, a silver-tabby she-cat, lay spread out on one rock. Thistletoe groomed Birchfall's long fur while she dozed, occasionally glancing towards the shade of the nursery brambles where Stonekit and Sootkit wrestled in the dirt, trying to grab each other's tails.

Tawnybellow and Kestrelfall, one large and tawny and the other a wirey pale ginger tabby, lay on their own large smooth rock with just enough moss for the two of them. A third blue-grey tabby tom, Heronswoop, was dragging his own dry moss bed towards the two, hopping as much as possible to not burn his paws while the other two cheered him on. He finally leaped up on the dark rock and placed his bedding down, but not before his paws had been placed on the burning surface. He howled and leaped off, flailing on the ground, and the other two roared with laughter.

Quietpaw, who was careful to stay in the shadows of the medicine cat den and nursery in order to not burn his pawpads, nearly tripped over the third kit rushing to join Sootkit and Stonekit's play; a dark ginger she-kit who tackled both her brothers out of the shadows.

They wrestled in the dirt for a bit before the heated ground begun to hurt them and they yelped. Quietpaw saw Thistletoe stand up sharply, but before she could react, a thin, grey she-cat emerged from the nursery. "Sootkit, Stonekit," Gullsong growled sternly as the kits dashed back inside, "I told you to come back in the den before you got hurt. And Stoatkit, I expect you to know better." The kits mumbled their sorrys as they bounded back to the shade, and Gullsong looked towards the blue-pointed apprentice, her narrowed green eyes softening a bit. "Sorry, Quietpaw, they've been acting up recently. Comes with the age I guess." With a curt nod to Thistletoe, who settled back down on her rock with a relieved sigh, Gullsong retreated back into the bramble nursery shade before Quietpaw could respond.

Quietpaw looked around the camp again, but saw none of the other apprentices, and decided that they must be near the Drytree.

The apprentices, like the warriors, had no den of their own. Instead they made bedding out of the yellowed tall grasses surrounding the camp, and slept under the Drytree; a tall, gnarled alder trunk with cracked, wide, windswept branches.

Newleaf after Newleaf the Drytree surprised every cat with small green leaves even after a scorching Greenleaf, a dry Leaf-fall and a freezing Leaf-bare. Every year the clan is sure that this would be the season when the Drytree finally kicks it, but every year it prevails, much to the clan's glee.

Quietpaw twisted around the nursery brambles, and dashed across the hot camp ground, each paw only touching the dirt for a heartbeat before he reached the edge of camp, and the start of a matted-down path winding between the tall plants. Quietpaw slinked through the grasses, which were so tall that only the tips of Quietpaw's ears were visible, just poking out of the top of the yellowed grass even as he stood at his full height.

Nearing the clearing, where the magnificent, half-dead Drytree towered over the hastily-made nests, Quietpaw's blue-tipped ears pricked, hearing his fellow apprentice's voices. He took a step forward before hearing another, more familiar voice, and he crouched with a smirk, deciding to surprise her.

"-No, really," Olivepaw continued, a hint of satire in her voice. "Birchfall nearly killed him when he got his warrior name. Apparently Kestrelfall requested 'fall as well, just to twist her fur."

Quietpaw heard laughter from the others. A high-pitched cackle, a soft chuckle, and a deep, smooth snicker. Quietpaw gave a small smirk himself.

"Sounds more like something Tawnybellow would do," said the cat with the deeper voice, still laughing softly. The other two expressed notions of agreement and laughed, however, Olivepaw had fallen quiet.

Quietpaw heard a rustle.

"What is it, Olivepaw?" whispered someone with a high, whiny voice.

There was a long pause. Quietpaw stepped forward, planning to see what was wrong, but no more than a second after he had placed his paw down he was tackled to the ground.

Olivepaw laughed as she pinned Quietpaw against the ground. "I knew it was you, cricketbrain!"

"If it wasn't me, you would have been in trouble," quipped Quietpaw as she let him go.

"Well, who else breathes like a sweating bear?"

Quietpaw said nothing, just laughed awkwardly and pushed her shoulder, face feeling hot.

"Nice to see you Quietpaw," mumbled a chocolate she-cat. "Been a while."

"Yeah, I bet Elkbrush's been keeping you busy," grinned a tiny calico she-cat, who was even smaller than Olivepaw.

"Nice to see you, Newtpaw and Ivypaw," Quietpaw said, still embarrassed that Olivepaw had pinned him so easily in front of the others. Quietpaw glanced at the remaining tom only to see his emerald eyes already trained on him. Quietpaw averted his gaze quickly, face heating up again. "N-nice to see you again too, Antpaw."

"Yeah, likewise," Antpaw replied curtly. There was a moment of silence, but Quietpaw was too shy to move his blue eyes from the ground.

Luckily, there was Olivepaw.

"Well, now that we've all made our introductions," she stated abruptly, clearly annoyed that no one else stepped up to speak. "I believe some boring small-talk is in order. After all, Quietpaw's been spending so much alone time with Elkbrush that they probably forgot how to talk."

The others laughed, and Quietpaw gave a quick, grateful smile towards Olivepaw. She didn't respond, but flicked her white-tipped tail against his hip.

"I think you're thinking of Mumbletuft, Olivepaw," Antpaw grinned.

"Well, I mean, aren't Elkbrush and Mumbletuft related?" squeaked Ivypaw.

"I haven't heard of anything like that," Antpaw said, his ginger ear flicking. "Besides, I don't think Mumbletuft ever took a mate."

"What are you talking about? They look exactly alike!"

Newtpaw grinned but didn't add anything as Antpaw and Ivypaw began to argue.

Olivepaw led Quietpaw away to gather some of the abundant dry grass to use for bedding. The torbie apprentice said under her breath, "I think I bought you some time, but you're gonna have to talk to them eventually."

Quietpaw bumped his shoulder against hers. "Thank you. I just get so flustered-"

"You don't have to explain it to me, cricketbrain," Olivepaw quipped, her hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "I've been stuck with you since before I was born."

Quietpaw purred, his blue eyes overwhelmed with emotion.

The two apprentices returned to the others and spread out the dry bedding next to Olivepaw and Ivypaw's nests. Quietpaw sat, unsure of how he should position himself, so he just sort of slumped over a bit. Olivepaw, meanwhile, flopped onto her nest with a dramatic sigh, stretching her striped legs out behind her and curling her white-tipped tail around her hip.

Quietpaw looked around to see how the others were settled.

Newtpaw had all four legs tucked underneath her long chocolate fur as her yellow-green eyes darted curiously between the others.

Ivypaw was leaning on her side, her white back legs sprawled out behind her. Her pink tongue pulled at her orange-and-black shoulder fur between retorts to the ginger tom facing her.

Antpaw was lying down rather regally, his white-dipped paw crossing over the other, and his hips squared with his shoulders. His chest was puffed out, displaying the dash of white that brightly contrasted with ginger stripes.

Quietpaw was painfully aware that he was overthinking this, and slid into a similar position as Antpaw. His blue-pointed legs were held tightly against his body, however, and his head naturally slumped forward sheepishly.

He felt Olivepaw's tail flick his hip, and he whipped his head around. He saw her mouth move, but it wasn't until she repeated herself that he broke free of his thoughts. "You alright, Quietpaw?" she whispered.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," he said hastily, and began to listen to the conversation again.

"All I'm saying is, there's not a lot of chance of coat variety in a clan as small as ours," Antpaw said with a lick to his shoulder. "I mean, me and Kestrelfall have the same pattern and fur color, and we're not related."

"Yeah, but you're both ginger toms," scoffed Ivypaw. "That's like, the most common pelt type I can think of. When was the last time you saw a long-furred, chocolate cat with no white markings that towers over literally everyone?"

"Well, I mean, Newtpaw for one..." Antpaw replied sassily. Then his grin dropped, and both Antpaw and Ivypaw looked at Newtpaw with wide eyes.

Quietpaw laughed, before covering his blue-pointed muzzle with his paw. Was that rude? I was being rude, oh no...

Then Olivepaw laughed, goodnaturedly kicking him with one of her outstretched legs, and the others began to laugh too. Quietpaw smiled, his face feeling hot for jumping to conclusions so quickly. He stood. "Anyone want some Drybark? It's-it's been a while since I've had some," Quietpaw said, stuttering a bit.

"Yeah, my teeth have been sore lately," Newtpaw said, licking her fangs.

"I'll take some."

"Thanks, Quietpaw!" squeaked Ivypaw.

Quietpaw smiled and stood up. Olivepaw started to stand too, but Quietpaw flicked his tail to let her know he was fine. She settled back down, looking slightly confused as he bounded towards the tree. I just want to be useful, he wished he could tell her without the others hearing.

The noise of crickets grew louder as he reached the tree. The lanky apprentice purred, relaxing away from the apprentices, stretching his blue tipped paws against the knobbled trunk, enjoying the sounds around him.

Wind gently brushed against the sparse branches above, and the faint laugher of the apprentices carried through the breeze.

Unlike most alder trees, the Deadtree's grey bark was peeling underneath the darker, lichen covered bumps. Quietpaw unsheathed dull claws to gently pull back the scarred sheets of wood, revealing a sappy red underwood. Quietpaw worked slowly, careful not to take too much and harm the cycles-old tree.

The blue-pointed cat was nearly done pulling off a large enough slab for the five apprentices when a rustle in the grasses perked his ears. Not daring to move, Quietpaw took a deep breath.

Mouse! The lanky cat dropped to a crouch, leaving the bark hanging against the tree. His heart thumped beneath his chest, excited that he might get to catch something.

Quietpaw's wide blue eyes swept between the yellowed grasses, paws stepping forwards slowly. He finally caught a glimpse of the mouse, gnawing on a small stalk of grass.

This is it, I can feel it! I'm going to finally catch something...

He crept forwards, keeping his weight in his haunches. Kneading the ground, ears pricked forwards.

He leapt.

And missed.

The grey mouse squeaked in surprise and dashed away from the cat, chattering. Quietpaw lay there for a moment, blue eyes squeezed shut in defeat.

Then there was a small screech, which was sharply cut off.

Quietpaw froze in a crouch, hackles raised. There was a rustling up ahead, but he couldn't see past the thick yellow grasses. "H-hello?" he meekly whispered, hoping to StarClan it was just a warrior and not- oh, StarClan, what if it was a coyote? Or a snake?!

Quietpaw shivered, immediately regretting calling out. He began to back away, not daring to turn his back on the noise. Then he heard a rustle towards him, and something was thrown at his paws.

Quietpaw squealed, jumping back in fright. "Who's there?" he squeaked out, blue eyes wide in dread. But the rustling noice was already distancing from his ears, and soon he couldn't hear it anymore.

Quietpaw, after allowing his heart a few moments to calm itself down, stepped forward to examine the thing that was thrown at him.

It was the mouse. Cleanly killed, its grey fur ruffled up a bit from where it had landed, but it was still warm to the touch of the apprentice's awestruck paw.

His med-cat training kicking in, he leaned forward to see if- nope, it was definitely dead. By a swift bop to the head, by the looks of it. An interesting technique that was used by HaloClan for scorpions and snakes, but not for prey. At least, from what I know, Quietpaw thought, still stunned as he turned over the mouse. I'm just a med-cat.

Well, he wasn't about to waste prey. The blue-point cat gently picked up the still-warm mouse, revealing a tuft of ginger fur beneath it. There was a brief moment of confusion before his thoughts were interrupted.

"Quietpaw? Where'd you go?"

The apprentice kicked up dust as he bounded back to the apprentices. "Here!" he said to the torbie, muffled by the mouse fur. "Sorry."

Olivepaw knitted her brow together, before her hazel eyes went wide. "Did you catch that?!" She gasped.

"Umph-"

"GUYS! QUIETPAW CAUGHT SOMETHING!" Olivepaw shouted back towards the others, practically flying with excitement.

"W-wait..."

"Wow!" Newtpaw purred happily. "Congrats Quietpaw! Was that your first catch?"

"Uh-um," Quietpaw stuttered, not wanting to take credit for something that wasn't his.

Olivepaw sensed his hesitation. "Oh, don't be modest," she laughed, tail flicking over his. "Unless you have a whole prey-pile you've been hiding from us!"

"I didn't know medcats were trained to hunt," Ivypaw murmered, not even bothering to mask the distaste in her expression. She glanced up at Quietpaw, chin raised. "Doesn't that take away from your duties?"

"They're not trained in hunting," Antpaw rolled his emerald eyes at Ivypaw, making Quietpaw's heart flutter. "That's why this is exciting!"

A flicker of pride made Quietpaw stand taller. Antpaw was excited for him? And Olivepaw seemed really happy for him, and Newtpaw was really nice about it... perhaps they didn't resent him so much after all.

He gave a soft smile to Ivypaw, thinking that maybe she could give him a few hunting tips and become friends too, but the young apprentice took the smile as a challenge.

"I've caught bigger mice than that," she grumbled, white hackles rising in defiance, clearly jealous of the attention. "I've patrolled too, and helped catch a hare once- and I'm only a moon into my apprenticeship! My early apprenticeship! And you've caught one mouse one time after what- three moons?" The calico she-kit scoffed. "Very impressive."

Quietpaw shrunk back at her harsh words, his tufted ears lowering as he looked away. She's right, he thought bitterly. I've been apprenticed longer than anyone here, and somehow I've accomplished the least. Even Ivypaw will probably be made a warrior before I become a medicine cat... am I really that much of a disappointment?

A low growl snapped him out of his spiraling. His blue eyes glanced up to see Olivepaw's teeth bared, her striped tail fluffed out and her hazel eyes narrowed at Ivypaw.

Her voice was a dangerously low hiss as she stepped towards the calico. "Now listen here, Ivykit-"

"Olivepaw..." The blue-point whispered, his paws kneading nervously. He flicked his tail against her leg, blue eyes wide at her outburst. "It's not worth it."

Olivepaw flicked her head towards the tom, her hazel eyes softening a bit. She turned around, avoiding the other apprentices' shocked gaze. "Fine," she muttered bitterly, "as long as Antpaw keeps his mouse-brained sister under control."

"She's my half sister," Antpaw rolled his emerald eyes, his expression of shock quickly screwing up into one of distaste. "But yeah, you need to learn to shut your muzzle, Ivypaw."

"I-I barely said anything!" The little apprentice hissed, batting her paw at the ginger tom's shoulder. "Quietpaw's the one who-"

She was interrupted by a swift bop to the head by Antpaw. "Quietpaw did nothing, shut up."

Quietpaw looked away from Antpaw's worried glance with a shy smile. He looked at his paws, unsure of what to do, as always. The festive mood just a few heartbeats before had been replaced with something awkward, and Quietpaw couldn't help but feel responsible.

"I-I better go put this in the prey pile," he mumbled through the mouse. His eyes glanced up to see three worried glances, and his pelt burned with shame. "S-sorry for bothering y-you guys," he whispered even quieter.

"Quietpaw-"

Ignoring Olivepaw's worried inquiry the lanky tom dashed back towards camp, his shaking paws calming down the further he got away.

He had just reached the tall grasses when Ivypaw's pitchy voice reached his ears. "He didn't even get our alder bark!"

Quietpaw squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, begging the tears to stay put until he found somewhere to be alone, before he ducked into the tall grasses, tail tucked.

I messed everything up, they were having a fun time before I arrived. I always mess everything up.

The tom hurriedly padded to camp, not caring about the searing heat on his paw pads as he dashed across camp before anyone could see the mouse in his jaws. He dropped it onto the prey pile, and allowed himself a moment of pride as he noticed it was one of the biggest catches of the day, paired up against a couple of speckled thrushes, a pawful of assorted eggs, and a few lizards with meaty tails. His pride quickly dissipated however when he remembered that it wasn't actually him who caught the mouse, it was someone, or something, with ginger fur.

Feeling miserable again, Quietpaw solemnly padded back to the medicine den, where he thought at least he'd be away from the prying eyes of the clan.

However he found three extra cats waiting for him along with his exasperated mentor, who cursed under her breath as she dug through her herb supply, which had somehow gotten mixed up despite being on a rock shelf inaccessible without standing on your hind legs.

"Do you three have maggots for brains?" She hissed as the three cats held in their laughs.

"Hey, it's Heronswoop's fault," Tawnybellow protested, his paw held extended in the air, it's usually pink skin red with burns.

"It is not! You two dungfaces didn't help me grab my nest," the blue-grey tom rolled his eyes, shifting his weight constantly to prevent his burns from touching the ground for too long. "You could've pulled me up off the ground, you did not have to- what did you call it?"

Kestrelfall stifled a laugh, the only one visibly without burns. "Share the pain."

"And you fell for that?" Elkbrush whisked around to face Tawnybellow, her aquamarine eyes boring into his amber ones.

The tom shifted uncomfortably, shrugging. "It made sense at the time."

Quietpaw couldn't hold in his giggle, and all four cats turned to him.

"Whoa! How long have you been here Quietpaw?" Kestrelfall laughed. "Suppose your name makes sense then."

"You must've heard my brave story then, how I sacrificed myself for these boys here!" Tawnybellow puffed out his chest, a heroic grin on his face. "With the pain I went through though, you'd think they'd show a little appreciation!"

Heronswoop and Kestrelfall broke out laughing, and Elkbrush mumbled something about deathberries. Despite the heaviness in his chest, Quietpaw gave a genuine laugh.

"Why don't you treat Tawnybellow, Quietpaw?" Elkbrush said after a deep breath. "It's just his left pawpad that's injured. Then I can deal with Heronswoop."

Quietpaw nodded, quickly moving to the pile of wrapped herbs specifically tailored for the burns caused by a clumsy step at sunhigh.

"These are nettles," Quietpaw explained, dropping the wrap in front of the tawny tom and motioning to the spiny leaves. "It's gonna sting, but it prevents blistering, and I'll give you something to stop the stinging after I'm done. I need you to be still though, so I dont get stung too."

Tawnybellow obediently stretched out his paw, wincing a bit as Quietpaw carefully applied the nettles, using the dock leaves in the wrap to avoid touching them himself.

Quietpaw chewed up one dock leaf, pressing the wad into Tawnybellow's pawpad and wrapping it in the other dock leaf.

"Is that sanitary?" Heronswoop asked, wrinkling his muzzle at the chewed-up pulp in Elkbrush's paw.

"If you have a better way of applying herbs then our ancestors, then by all means reveal it, Heronswoop," Elkbrush grumbled, pressing the glob onto the blue tom's paw. "I'm sure FairyClan would love to hear how much smarter you are."

"We'd love to have you as a medcat, Heronswoop," Quietpaw's blue eyes looking away from the tawny tom's injured paw to give the other tom a teasing smile. "Though I think Tawnybellow and Kestrelfall would miss you."

Kestrelfall broke into silent laughter, and Tawnybellow draped his uninjured paw over his forehead dramatically. "Oh, I'll cherish the laughs we had! But your calling awaits, Heronswoop, for you are the chosen one!"

All four toms burst into laughter, and Elkbrush sighed, though perhaps with less malice.

The day ticked on. Although an uninjured Kestrelfall was soon called for an afternoon hunting patrol, Quietpaw enjoyed the jokes of the injured toms, occasionally chiming in much to their encouragement. After close examination from Elkbrush, Tawnybellow was deemed fit for dusk patrol and Heronswoop was sent to rest until the next day.

When the three-quarter moon reached its peak, Quietpaw was called out of the med-cat den to consult with his mentor, the leader, and the moon.

The nightly conference was usually a private affair between the leader and the most experienced medicine cat, where they share knowledge about matters of the clans and the stars, so Quietpaw was nervous as he stepped into the moonlight. He was not only being watched by Elkbrush, but Ryestar and the entirety of StarClan as well.

He leapt onto the black Riverrock that sparkled in the moonlight, nodding respectfully to Ryestar but not daring to speak.

Elkbrush had her broad head turned to the stars, eyes closed, face screwed in concentration. Ryestar's tail wrapped tightly around her stout legs; even standing she only reached Quietpaw's shoulder, and a less informed cat would think she was a kit compared to Elkbrush's intimidating stature. But Quietpaw certainly knew better; her scars alone proved her skill as a warrior.

Ryestar's hazel eyes watched Elkbrush with curiosity, and with something else Quietpaw couldn't quite pin down. Hope? Nostalgia? ...Longing?

Before the blue-point could put any more thought into it, Elkbrush shook her head, claws digging into the Riverrock. "Rat-dung," she quietly cursed.

Quietpaw glanced at Ryestar for some clarification, but her face had turned grim.

"Moonfalls is soon, you have to ask FairyClan if they've gotten word."

"I know, I know," Elkbrush shook her head again, chocolate shoulders slumping forward in defeat. Her aquamarine eyes glanced up at Ryestar, holding her hazel gaze for a moment. "What-what if it's me?"

The tawny munchkin paused for a moment, before standing to place a paw on Elkbrush's shoulder. "No, it's not. Something's wrong but you're not the cause of it," the leader tilted her head, giving Elkbrush a soft smile. "You can't be."

Elkbrush raised her head to respond but Quietpaw accidentally slipped off the back of the Riverrock; having noticed that this was clearly an intimate moment in one way or another and they had forgotten his presence, he decided to leave.

Unfortunately clumsiness was not on his side today.

In the brief moment he took to rebalance, the two she-cats had stood up straight and their characteristic stoic expressions had returned.

"Quietpaw," Elkbrush nodded. "Thank you for coming."

"O-of course," Quietpaw nodded again. He paused for a moment, and when no one spoke, he asked before he lost the nerve. "What's wrong?"

Ryestar glared at Elkbrush. "You didn't tell him?"

The chocolate she-cat shook out her hackles, returning the glare. "Not exactly."

"He's your apprentice."

"That's right, my apprentice. Not yours, Rye."

Quietpaw coughed subconsciously, breaking the two out of their quickly spiraling argument.

Ryestar glanced at Elkbrush again, who sighed. She turned to Quietpaw, who immediately noticed his mentor's paws twitching, her tail curled defensively over her back. "Quietpaw," she began, before tilting her head down ever so slightly. "StarClan- well, StarClan hasn't spoken with me for moons. The last StarClan cat to speak with me was Brookbee, my mentor, and she said-"

Elkbrush swallowed, and Ryestar's tail gently pressed against her paw. "She said there is danger where my...where HaloClan's path is now," she looked to Ryestar for a moment, before turning away from them both. "Danger and blood."

—

4235 words

fin august 22 2021