EMBERPAW

"Littlepaw, duck!"

Emberpaw hissed in frustration as the white apprentice rolled out from underneath her claws. Instead of hitting her target, the she-cat sailed over her training partner's form, landing heavily on the rocks beyond. In front of her stood Beartooth, who had taken over her training for the day.

"It was a good pounce," the old tabby warrior said. "The only thing I would do is keep lower to the ground. Then, if your target decides to move, you still have a chance of skimming it with your claws."

"Or you don't end up hitting the ground so hard afterwards," said Mapleblossom's cheerful voice from behind Emberpaw.

The tortoiseshell rounded on Littlepaw's mentor. "Well, I wouldn't have had to hit the ground at all had someone not tipped Littlepaw off." The warrior at least had the decency to look somewhat guilty, but shrugged it off with a, "you would have shredded him to bits otherwise," and called another practice round of battle.

Grumpily, Emberpaw crouched down, ready to spring at her littermate once more. Had she really been dragged out of her nest before dawn for this? While she loved battle training, even that did not justify getting up before the sun. To make matters worse, the camp woke up to rain, which stained the red rocks with darker splotches and created a chill in the air that got under her fur. After only two practice rounds, the apprentice was soaked, her heavy fur slowing her down.

Littlepaw's short fur gave him advantage, but the tom rarely did well during training. Earlier, Emberpaw caught him shivering, either from the cold or because of his cowardliness when it came to teeth and claws. She was more willing to believe the latter.

A flash of white passed on her left side, missing her by a fox-length. The she-cat snorted at Littlepaw's lack of aim and got to her paws, swinging around to face her opponent. He had a look of determination on his face and Emberpaw watched it dissolve as she bunched her legs beneath her and sprang, tackling him to the ground.

The tortoiseshell took Beartooth's advice, keeping herself lower to the ground, giving Littlepaw less time to move. The white tom attempted to dodge her but, for once, was not quick enough. Emberpaw used her water-logged fur to her advantage, bringing down her full weight upon the other apprentice. He squirmed beneath her as she bared her fangs at him, claws digging in slightly beneath the fur on his small shoulders. The tortoiseshell could feel his terror coursing through her.

Don't hurt me, she could hear him thinking. You're my sister, you wouldn't hurt me. Family doesn't hurt each other. The area behind Emberpaw's ear throbbed, reminding her of the scar Palethorn left her with after her first training assessment.

The she-cat growled. "Just wait until you battle Palethorn." She snapped her jaws closed, the sound her fangs made as they clicked against each other making the tom beneath her wince.

"I think that's enough for one day," Mapleblossom called, hurrying over to check on her apprentice. Littlepaw shook uncontrollably, staring at Emberpaw with large green eyes. She turned away, wondering why Palethorn hated her so much when Littlepaw refused to fight back. For some reason, their father still viewed her as the weak one.

"Let's head back," Beartooth growled. "This rain is making my bones ache."

Emberpaw fell into step with the large tabby as they traveled back to the camp, admiring the strength the senior warrior still held. Even though he was the oldest warrior in the Clan, he could still best the other warriors in just about anything battle-related. Despite his skills in battle, the tom did not boast of them and only showcased his talents when asked by one of the mentors to attend a training session.

"You're a promising fighter, you know," Beartooth said after a while. Mapleblossom and Littlepaw walked a little further behind, the mottled she-cat urging her apprentice to try his luck at hunting in the rain. Emberpaw blocked out Littlepaw's thoughts of self-doubt before the urge to snap at him grew any larger.

"Thank you," she replied to the tabby's praise. She knew battle to be her calling; while she had trouble understanding hunting techniques, skills used in battle came naturally to her. Even as a kit, she won every playfight.

"I've never seen an apprentice adapt their technique so quickly," he continued. "Keep it up and you'll be the finest warrior in the Clan."

"Better than you?" she shot back.

"Only when I've gone to join StarClan," Beartooth replied, pouncing onto her without warning. Instincts kicking in, Emberpaw swerved to avoid his claws, flattening herself against the ground and scurrying underneath the larger cat to avoid being crushed by his weight. Though she was rather large for a she-cat her age, the warrior was three times her size.

The tabby landed lightly, his amber eyes alight with mischief. "You're quick, as well as strong; a good mix of your mother and father. Perhaps you will best me before I join StarClan." The apprentice felt herself swelling with pride, though a pang spread through her chest at the mention of her parents.

Beartooth went off to find Runningheart as soon as they got back to camp, eager to give the ginger tabby a report on Emberpaw's progress. Though training under the old warrior's watchful eye was an honour, the apprentice found herself missing her mentor's competitions.

Emberpaw's stomach growled and she debated whether to make her way over to the fresh-kill pile, swarmed by the returning dawn patrols. Sighing, the she-cat waited, refusing to worm her way through their midst. The idea of blocking out all those thoughts made her lose some of her appetite.

She regretted her decision soon after.

"I heard you beat Littlepaw up," Whitepaw growled, narrowing his eyes at her.

Emberpaw held his gaze steadily with her matching one. "And I'll make sure to do the same to you whenever we train together again." Frostfur and Runningheart, seeing how aggressive their apprentices got during training sessions, decided to separate them for a while.

Her brother's left ear flicked back, a cue Emberpaw had picked up on. Before he could pounce, her paw flashed out, claws catching the ends of his long whiskers. Startled, the tom jumped back.

"You missed." The look on his face was smug, but the she-cat could hear his racing heartbeat from where she was sitting.

"I wish I hadn't," she replied, curling her lip back. The satisfaction of clawing her hateful brother would be great, but not enough to outweight the consequences.

Emberpaw remained still as Whitepaw approached her once more, not even flinching as his paw shot out and caught her on the ear. His claws remained sheathed, but the hard pad left a sting in the tender flesh.

What a piece of crowfood, she heard the white tom think before he turned and disappeared, Littlepaw in tow. The petty show of dominance over, Emberpaw made her way to the apprentice den.

She found Asterpaw there, curled up in her nest. Emberpaw couldn't help but feel jealous of her, wishing Beetlestar chose her to go to Moon Cliffs instead. The pretty she-cat did not have a single bit of Clan blood in her, yet she was the leader's apprentice, the sweetheart of the Clan, and the star hunter among the apprentices.

Everyone in the Clan loved her. It made Emberpaw wonder what it was like to be perfect.

The tortoiseshell curled up in her nest, hardly feeling the warmth of the desert moss through her chilled fur. She felt terribly cold, both inside and out. An emptiness replaced the pride she'd felt at Beartooth's praised, one she knew well. She felt it for the first time when her mother, Lichencloud, died and her father's gaze turned cool and distant.

Pushing her thoughts aside, Emberpaw curled herself tighter, squeezing her eyes shut. Sleep was the only way she could get away from this emptiness.

But sleep was a flighty thing, especially for someone like her. Getting rid of the thoughts in her own head was hard enough; getting rid of the thoughts of others was even harder. She had limited control over them, only enough to keep them at bay. Sometimes, more prominent thoughts flitted through her head, loud enough to hear full sentences or certain words. The rest of the time they turned into a constant buzzing, as if there were bees trapped in her skull.

Tired of pushing everything back, Emberpaw let her walls down, the outside thoughts flooding in. She only heard parts, one thought cut off by another. Sometimes, it was hard to tell whether the voices in her head thought these thoughts or said them aloud. The thought of each Clan member remained in their voice, whether they were speaking to her directly or their thoughts infiltrated her mind.

This rain isn't so bad, came Ripplestream's high voice. The kits can have some fun playing in it and the stream will grow larger. Perhaps this isn't such a bad place after all.

This rain better not last long, thought Leafpelt. The prey will disappear.

Patrols need to be organized... Redblaze was cut off by another's thoughts.

Now, to convince Beetlestar to -

Emberpaw growled as the voice of Palethorn filled her head and the walls came back up again. It surprised her that she heard his thoughts at all, as he normally kept a tight reign on what went on inside his head. After the initial shock passed, the apprentice found herself cursing the fact she had not listened on.

Deciding to try again, she let the walls down once more, attempting to filter through the many thoughts of her Clanmates and reach the pale warrior once more. After what felt like moons of searching she found nothing, only other remarks about the weather and complaints from patrols as they returned to camp.

Yet, amongst all of the boring, everyday ongoings, Emberpaw found one voice that repeated the same lines over and over, as if memorizing them. They had a certain rhythm, every two lines rhyming. Emberpaw listened as the medicine apprentice struggled to remember - amber? or ember? - and the rhythm lulled her to sleep.