Silverpaw dug her paws deep into Lichenpaw's side, though her claws remained sheathed and harmless. She twisted her arms and threw the opposing apprentice to the ground, planting her paws firmly against the black and white she-cat's chest.

Lichenpaw hissed, kicking viciously at Silverpaw's belly, but to no avail. She was pinned.

"That's enough!" Nightpatch shouted, padding forward to separate the two apprentices. He blinked his green eyes approvingly at Silverpaw. "Well done, that was an excellent pin."

Silverpaw nearly warmed to the praise, but her victory was overshadowed by the absence of Sorrelmouse. It had only been a few sunrises since her death, and the pain of it was as fresh as ever. The amount of time it took her Clan to adapt to death was lost upon her. Was it really something so easily dismissed? To lose your loved ones, your friends? She recognized that their grief was still present, but it was pushed down and ignored, placed on the backburner of life as things moved forward; a behavior she couldn't understand.

She relinquished her hold on her opponent, flanks heaving and breathless. She watched as Lichenpaw dragged herself to her paws, her blue eyes flickering hopelessly.

"I never win," she muttered, hunching her shoulders.

Nightpatch flicked his tail along her side. "You don't need to win all the time to be a good warrior. You just need to fine tune your skills a bit more, and you'll be perfect."

"You've said that since day one!"

"I have not! On day one, your skills far outmatched your denmates."

Lichenpaw scoffed. "I wish it were still that way."

Honeywhisker strolled over, his eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. "She was just as bad then as she is now," he hissed scaldingly. "I beat her in every training session."

"That's because you were nearly a warrior already," Silverpaw snapped, turning to glare at the cat who should've never replaced her mentor. "You haven't improved even a whisker since you became a warrior. It's a miracle you passed your assessment in the first place!"

"You're no better either," Honeywhisker scoffed. "Let's go. We need to work on your rear claw-swipe." Without another word, the golden tom whisked around and stormed away.

Silverpaw lashed her tail, resentment bubbling inside of her. "Fox-heart," she muttered under her breath.

Nightpatch shook his head absently. "I know I shouldn't be saying this, but I still can't see why Pinestar made a warrior as young as him a mentor. He lacks the maturity to train you properly. No matter," he continued briskly, "you'd best run along now before you get in trouble. Lichenpaw, we'll practice one-on-one to try to find what precisely you're struggling with. Sound good?"

The dark she-cat silently nodded, her eyes low.

Silverpaw turned away from the two and chased after Honeywhisker, who had pushed through some shrubbery and emerged into a smaller clearing. Just through the trees beyond, she could see Mistpaw and Toadpaw training together, rolling around in thinly layered grass while their mentors spectated.

"Rear claw-swipe. Demonstrate, now," Honeywhisker snapped, his tail flicking irritably behind him.

Gritting her teeth, Silverpaw stubbornly waited for a few moments, her chin tilted high to glare at the tom. Once she noticed the twitch in his cheek, a habit betraying his rising temper, she finally did as instructed. She reared to her hindquarters and struck the air with both claws, her spine swaying as she maintained her balance. She imagined a mixture of faces on the receiving end. Honeywhisker, then Evefrost, and then... the rogue tom. She shuddered as she dropped to the ground, staring at her claws as they flexed against the earth.

"Terribly done," the golden tom snapped. "Rear up like this," he rose studiously to his haunches and clawed at the air, his tail flicking ever-so-slightly for balance. "And don't sway your whole body! Do you seriously think you'll land even a single blow if you keep moving without stability?" He dropped back to all fours, shooting a scowl through the trees towards Nightpatch, whose tail brushed lightly along Lichenpaw's spine as he helped her position herself in a different battle move. Through gritted teeth, Honeywhisker added, "I don't know how that old tom thinks you did any better than a crippled rabbit." His eyes shot back over. "Go on already, show me what you can do!"

Huffing in annoyance, Silverpaw reared onto her hindquarters yet again, swiping as if she were in the thick of battle. Once satisfied with her own efforts, keeping her body more stable this time, she let her paws fall back to the earth, proudly flicking her whiskers.

"You're not standing tall enough. Do it again!"

Silverpaw gawked at the tom. Stand taller? For StarClan's sake, I'll become a twoleg if I manage any more height! Biting back a snarl, she repeated her actions. This time, she arched her spine so far that she nearly toppled over, but with brisk flicks of her tail, she kept her balance as she deftly batted her paws.

Her mind flickered back to Sorrelmouse—she told me I'd perfected this move. And if I really am doing it so poorly, she would've been much more helpful. She gritted her teeth at the memory of Sorrelmouse's gentle criticism. She'd always reposition the apprentice with both words and her paws, noting what was done well and what could be improved on. But not once did she yell at her, and not once did she scold her for how poorly she performed.

Silverpaw finished her demonstration, screwing up her face into a scowl. "Did I do it this time?" She spat, quickly smoothing her ruffled fur.

Honeywhisker's nose quivered. "Sure. Fine. You did well enough. Let's see if any of the other apprentices want to fight you—Toadpaw or Mistpaw are bound to be at least somewhat competent."

The tom marched away, and with a roll of her eyes, Silverpaw hurried after him.

The colorful leaves that decorated the forest canopy fluttered flimsily as a brisk wind whisked through, and the two cats trudged through a short stretch of trees until they appeared at the outskirts of a small, dusty clearing. It was bordered by a wall of holly bushes, and a small pond crested at the far edge, fed by a bubbling creek. Silverpaw could see little flickers of silver scales, and occasionally, bright orange as fish wove in and out of the pond.

According to the elders, the orange fish—titled goldfish—had once never been there and were bursting in population. They could become quite fat, and were rapidly overtaking the river, as they were surprisingly elusive for their bright coloration. Silverpaw sniffed. Though they fed the Clan well, she couldn't begin to imagine being stuck to eating only one flavor of fish for the rest of her days. She'd rather eat squirrels!

Her attention was drawn to the center of the clearing as Mistpaw caterwauled. Toadpaw cuffed his sister around the ears and sprang. Mistpaw met him midair, her lip curled in a snarl, and in an instant the littermates fell into a writhing mess on the floor until one black figure stood proudly on top. Toadpaw's face was smushed to the earth, and he breathed sharply as dust swirled around him.

"Victory!" Mistpaw crowed, her eyes gleaming with mirth as she freed her brother.

"Excellent job, Mistpaw," Minnowstripe praised from the outskirts of the clearing.

Crowspots, from beside the tortoiseshell warrior, politely nodded her head. "Well done indeed, both of you," she rasped. "Come with me now, Toadpaw. I'll show you a few more dodging techniques that will guarantee your victory next time." Her brown eyes glittered mischievously.

"Great!" Toadpaw eagerly chased after the old gray she-cat, his tail high over his spine. As he passed Silverpaw, he shot her a reassuring smile.

"Looks like we'll have to plan some moves to stop that," Minnowstripe teased Mistpaw, who nodded excitedly in return. The tortoiseshell turned her attention to the new arrivals, flicking her tail towards Silverpaw. "Is she ready to fight?"

Honeywhisker snorted. "As if, but let's get started anyways."

"Right then..." Minnowstripe rolled her shoulders, as if shrugging away the tom's brisk tone, and retrieved two stones. She placed them in the center of the clearing, spaced just a few tail-lengths away from each other before she joined Honeywhisker back at the bordering holly. "Both of you, stand at one of the stones. Begin a mock battle when I tell you to."

Obediently, Silverpaw padded forward and selected the stone furthest from Honeywhisker. Mistpaw stood directly across from her, her claws flexing eagerly while her eyes flickered back and forth between her mentor and Silverpaw.

"Begin in three..."

Silverpaw dropped to a crouch, her eyes narrowed to slits as she studied her friend—now a faux foe.

"...Two..."

Mistpaw's lips curled back into a mix between a snarl and a grin. Her tail began to lash.

"...One. Begin!"

A sliver of panic weaseled into the corners of Silverpaw's mind, threatening to cloud her thoughts in the split second of pain-staking stillness. She struggled to push it down. It's only Mistpaw. There will be no bloodshed today.

The moment was gone as the apprentices launched forward at the same time, meeting each other midair. Their paws battered at each other's faces, and in sync, they danced away from the other, their eyes a blaze of energy.

Silverpaw lunged again, carving her paw across Mistpaw's flank. She made diligent care to keep her claws sheathed. Once the blow landed, she skipped backwards, keeping her body twisted out of reach as she slid around to face her friend again.

With a yowl, Mistpaw leaped, her paws outstretched. Silverpaw hesitated, but managed to slide beneath the black she-cat's soaring figure, and as she attempted to twist herself midair, Silverpaw arched her back, bumping her spine against Mistpaw's belly. Her momentum disrupted, Mistpaw tumbled to the ground with a grunt.

Lashing her tail, Silverpaw pounced and sank her paws deep into Mistpaw's fur. She contorted herself to pin the black apprentice, a breathless grin stirring her features as Mistpaw fell limp. She lifted her head, searching for Minnowstripe's approving gaze, but without warning, Mistpaw surged upwards in an explosion of strength.

Silverpaw rolled to the ground with a startled yowl, and before she could find her footing, Mistpaw flipped around and charged. Silverpaw squirmed as she was tackled to the leaf-scattered floor, dust flying around them. Her paws battered at Mistpaw's stomach. She's stronger than I remember, she realized in alarm, pushing with all of her might. Her struggles faltered as she realized she was effectively pinned.

Turning her head away, Silverpaw heaved a reluctant sigh. "You win," she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut against the stinging cloud of dust.

Mistpaw released her grip and backed away, her green eyes shining. "Good fight," she mewed breathlessly.

Silverpaw quickly rose back to her paws, unwilling to remain on the ground for a moment longer, and gave her ruffled fur a few brisk licks to clean away the lingering filth. "Yeah, good fight," she mewed, flicking away a dead leaf alongside her churning thoughts.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Honeywhisker scowling in disapproval. She flattened her ears. Minnowstripe spotted Honeywhisker's sour look and gave him a quick thwack over the head with her tail. His amber-eyed glare turned towards her.

"What?" Minnowstripe hissed. "Cut the attitude already, they both did fine."

Honeywhisker bristled. "That's my apprentice you're talking about. I say when she did fine or not."

Minnowstripe gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes before returning her attention to the two apprentices. Her tail idly flicked against Honeywhisker's side, and she strode into the clearing.

"You both fought well, but you have room for improvement." She glanced between them. "Silverpaw, you need to keep your guard up. Never think you've won a battle just because your opponent is pinned. Give them a good beating. Another thing I noticed is your lack of awareness; just because you're in a fight doesn't mean nothing is going on around you. You can easily be snuck up on and lose the battle in that manner."

Silverpaw nodded slowly, shame swimming through her. I should've known that already.

Minnowstripe, oblivious to the troubles spinning in the apprentice's thoughts, turned her green eyes to Mistpaw. "You, on the other paw, need to think ahead. How will your attacks be countered, and what can you do to deflect that? You saw how Silverpaw predicted your leap-and-pin, and she did an excellent job in reacting correspondingly. One suggestion I have, while you're still working on learning how to anticipate the enemy, is to behave unpredictably. If you confuse your opponent, they can't think of a counter. And certainly don't stick to the same routine." The warrior stepped back with a proud smile. "Again, you both are shaping up to be great warriors."

Honeywhisker snorted. Minnowstripe's head whipped around in his direction, just as the tom covered his derisive grin with a paw. The tortoiseshell warrior frowned.

"Well, let's try another round," Minnowstripe declared, giving her fur a disgruntled shake. She returned to Honeywhisker's side.

Silverpaw quickly presumed her position at her designated stone, dropping to a crouch. The apprentices stared at each other, patiently awaiting the warrior's command.

"Begin!"

Unlike the last time, the two remained stationary, anticipating the other to make the first move. The apprentices stood at their stones, eyes narrowed and tails lashing.

Mistpaw crept an inch to the side. Her body hung low to the ground, and her belly nearly brushed against the dust. A rumbling growl thrummed in Silverpaw's chest as she carefully watched her friend; a fitful attempt to hide her anxieties. The clearing was silent—all except for the two apprentices, waiting for chaos to break.

Her lips drawn in a soundless snarl, Mistpaw lunged. Dust sprayed around her quick-moving paws.

Silverpaw squared her shoulders and lowered her head to face Mistpaw's tackle head on, but to her surprise, Mistpaw adjusted her trajectory. Using her momentum to bounce off the ground, she leaped straight onto Silverpaw's back. Silverpaw yelped and scrambled to throw her friend off, dropping quickly and rolling on the ground. Mistpaw jumped away before she could be crushed, and as Silverpaw rose to her paws, the black apprentice dove between the tabby's sprawled legs. Silverpaw yelped, the barest touch of fur brushing her chest. She leaped away before her friend could complete the devastating move.

She whirled around to face Mistpaw again, only to see the black she-cat already charging. Silverpaw was hardly capable of reacting in time, ungracefully rearing to her hindlegs and swatting her denmate away with a flurry of paw-swipes. As her friend backed away, she simpered. Clearly, she was capable of a rear claw-swipe.

Eat that, Honeywhisker!

She dropped back to all fours and darted forward, snapping her teeth around thin air as Mistpaw dodged. Then, Silverpaw feigned to the right. Mistpaw moved to counter her, but Silverpaw turned to the left with a confident twist at the very last second, thrusting with all of her might into Mistpaw's side.

Mistpaw lost her balance and flailed to the ground. She kicked out her paws as Silverpaw launched on top of her, and they scrambled for a hold, rolling around on the ground. Dust flew around them and stung at Silverpaw's eyes, nearly suffocating her in its intensity. Her heart thundered as her back slammed against the earth, a paw snaking to her throat and pressing down forcefully.

Silverpaw fell limp, her eyes a burning fire until Mistpaw finally freed her. The black she-cat twisted around to give her pelt a quick lick—it was devastated from their scuffle, completely unkempt and sticking up in mats.

Minnowstripe's gaze was thoughtful. "Let's try that again."

The two sparred once more. Silverpaw found herself pinned face-first in the earth, dirt scrunching against her muzzle and itching at her nostrils. "I surrender!" She cried, nearly choking on soil.

At her words, Mistpaw released her, stumbling back, flanks heaving. As she studied the silver tabby, her green eyes shone with an emotion Silverpaw knew far too well. Pity. She looked away, biting back a frustrated snarl.

The apprentices sparred again, then again, and again. Silverpaw won a handful of times out of their numerous battles, improvement gradually showing throughout their performance as she relearned her forgotten techniques, but the few victories did little for her confidence. Hopelessness spiraled in her heart. How could she expect to do anything right if she couldn't even beat a fellow apprentice?

At last, their training came to a close. The shadows had grown long and the birdsong was fading, now replaced by the distant hooting of owls and chirps of crickets.

Honeywhisker's eyes shone with disappointment as the group began the trek back to camp. Mistpaw tried feebly to start a conversation with Silverpaw, but the tabby couldn't gather the courage to allow their words to last, her tail dragging in the dirt.

Once they reached the camp, Mistpaw went off to find company with Ravenfire and her littermates. Silverpaw fetched a piece of fresh-kill and picked absently at it in the shadows of a fern, hardly eating more than a few bites before night had fallen, draping the clearing in darkness. The sky was cloudy, leaving little starlight to shine down on them.

When all of her Clanmates had gone to sleep, Silverpaw slipped into the dirtplace. Her heart twisted in her throat as she approached the back of the den. She gently nudged the ferns, but they were firmly in place. Somebody must've repaired it. Carefully and quietly, she took her claws and sliced a flap open, just wide enough for her to wriggle through.

She did just that, emerging onto the slim riverbank, the fresh air greeting her.

Sadness gnawed at her belly as she padded along the edge of the river, barely hearing anything past the thumping of her heart in her ears. She could nearly see her brother ahead of her, sneaking along the reeds and cattails with confidence, oblivious to the tragedy that would soon wreak upon them. She swallowed her grief and pushed on, allowing the illusion to dissipate. She swam across the river before she could reach the crossing stones.

Sullenly, the apprentice padded through the territory. Though she'd only been there once, it was as though she'd been there hundreds of times before, finding the path as easily as the one to her nest. She stumbled upon the plain clearing and pushed through a screen of brambles, emerging onto the rocky outcropping. Sorrelmouse's cliff. Her whiskers trembled as she crept to the edge, struggling to hold back tears as she recalled Sorrelmouse's words of reassurance.

She breathed a shaky breath. "I miss you," she whispered to oblivion, praying someone dear to her heart would hear it. In such a vast, open space, she nearly felt closer to StarClan, even if they were separated by a layer of clouds.

She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the soft breeze to stir her pelt and her tail to hang limp. Once she'd collected her composure, she began to train. Imaginary foes appeared before her mind's eye, lunging from all angles. Unlike the dream she'd had on the fateful night of Owlpaw's death, they went for the kill, and their movements were far more similar to the real thing. She moved her body in a dance between offense and defense, picking through her deepest struggles and trying her hardest to improve upon them.

Perhaps if she trained hard enough, she'd never lose a loved one again.

❀

Believe it or not, but this story is now as long as Frecklesky's Heart, and we're only on Chapter Eleven! Crazy how much of a difference longer chapters can make, right?

Onto some more exciting news... if you couldn't tell already, chapter updates have returned! I tried to write ahead a bit this time and have roughly 6 more chapters written, so hopefully the weekly upload schedule will remain consistent for a while.

Thank you guys so much again for your support and patience, and I'll see you next Friday! ~ Kitten