Daylight

Chapter 6

It had been maybe two weeks since Firepaw had started training. Runningwind was a great mentor, as far as Firepaw's standards went. Not that he knew, personally, of any other mentors... but that was beside the point.

The light brown tabby wasn't exactly what Firepaw would call patient—he had initially expected Firepaw to know how to do everything Graypaw did when he was an apprentice. "Graypaw knew how to distinguish between smells," he'd say, making Firepaw's fur lift in annoyance.

"I'm not Graypaw!" exclaimed Firepaw one day, after Runningwind had said it for the thousandth time. The muscular tom was mildly surprised at the outburst, green eyes blinking at the exclamation.

"Right. But you are a ThunderClan apprentice, are you not?"

Firepaw didn't want to correct him by telling him he was only half ThunderClan, so he merely nodded, receiving a nod from the muscular warrior. "Let's start from the beginning," he said, lean face leaving Firepaw to figure out what he was thinking. "What smells can you catch?"

Firepaw sat down in the middle of the training hollow, closing his emerald eyes and looking up at the azure sky. He opened his mouth slightly, the comforting scents of the forest wafting around him. Faint cherry scents came from the maples, while the oaks—which was what the forest was mainly made up of, according to Runningwind—emitted a sort of earthy smell, keeping Firepaw grounded as he explored the forest with his senses. The scent of a mouse came from not far off—maybe under the roots of a tree around a clearing—and despite being able to hear a squirrel's chittering, he was also able to smell the soon-to-be meal. "Trees," he finally said, to which he received a harumph from Runningwind. He clarified. "Oaks and maples. And... there's a mouse over there and a few squirrels up in that tree right there."

When Firepaw opened his eyes, Runningwind nodded, satisfaction in his mentor's gaze. "Very good. That adjures our training today. Go back to camp and get some prey."

With that, Runningwind turned, stalking out of the clearing. Clearly, he has somewhere to be, Firepaw thought, watching the muscular warrior walk away.

A clearing of some cat's throat came from behind Firepaw, causing him to jump two tail-lengths in the air, landing on his feet in the light covering of leaves, emitting a soft thud. "Good to see you have balance," the dark brown tabby said, giving Firepaw a once-over. Tigerclaw.

The big tom had been increasingly interested in him since the fight—which Runningwind didn't talk about—and had sought him out to talk to him specifically more than once. Firepaw found himself licking his chest before straightening up. "That's right," the flame-colored tom said, trying to sound mature. "I've got the balance of a... cat."

Not a flicker of amusement made itself known in Tigerclaw's gaze. "I've come to talk to you about your progress in training."

Firepaw blinked, shoulders going slack, wrapping his lightly tabbied tail over his paws. "What do you mean? Runningwind's my mentor."

Tigerclaw seemed to choose his words carefully. "Yes, but ThunderClan needs more warriors... more battle-ready ones, that is. Runningwind is a fine warrior, but I find his battle skills... lacking. That is not to say he's not loyal, but you can do better."

Firepaw tried to figure out how to interpret the tom's words. Sensing his confusion, Tigerclaw continued. "Don't you want to be seen as a strong warrior of ThunderClan? Wouldn't it be better to be seen as that rather than cowardly? You don't want the reputation of being a kittypet for the rest of your... daylight warrior time, do you?" The word didn't seem right coming from Tigerclaw's mouth, and his persuasion didn't, either, but Firepaw couldn't put his paw on how exactly.