The Forgotten Fire

Chapter 3:

  "It is apparent that you're greatest strength lies in your hindlegs," Bluestar meowed matter-of-factly and with a certain awe, "that is something only a few ThunderClan warriors have, so be sure to use that ability well."
"Of course," Firepaw meowed, her fur sticking up in odd ways from the recently finished training session. She was sitting both comfortably and with pride. The thrill of the mock battle still shone in her eyes and beat with her heart.
Bluestar's appraisal continued, "You learn very swiftly; both in training and in learning from opponents. That is a good trait as well." She noticed Firepaw lift her chin and added, "However, don't let yourself get too cocky. You are a fine apprentice and you will make an excellent warrior. There is no doubt you have much potential. But you are still no better than any of your clanmates."
"I know that," Firepaw protested, and while she thought that to herself, she still felt that perhaps her mentor was wrong. She shrugged and mewed, "I'll even be no better than them when I'm leader one day."
Bluestar blinked at her apprentice, unamused. After a pause she softly spoke, "Just don't forget how to handle yourself." She then turned and began walking away from the sandy hollow.
Firepaw got to her paws and followed the leader, a hop to her step. She felt she could be named a warrior in another moon, younger than most new warriors, though not by much. The leader's apprentice and deputy's daughter, an acknowledgement of her skill, what could possibly go wrong? And, couldn't it all be taken as a sign from StarClan that she was meant for something more? Her mind was settling into the thought of being Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, when she arrived back at camp.
The she-cat trotted to her father and sat beside him, helping herself to a bit of the squirrel he had resting between his forepaws.
"Well, hello there," he purred from where he laid beside Brindleface, "how're you?"
After swallowing, his daughter replied, "I'm doing very well." She swiped her tongue around her muzzle.
"Hmm," Brindleface commented, "you seem excited."
Firepaw, still clouded from the thought of being leader of the greatest clan, flicked an ear, "I decided I'm going to be leader one day."
"You have to be a mentor and then deputy first," Lionheart, sharing a thrush with Frostfur, reminded her.
Tigerclaw, an unfinished rabbit before him, added, "And you must be made a warrior before that." The way his amber gaze scraped over her showed his skepticism.
"I think it'd be wonderful," Brindleface meowed. She laid her head along Redtail's back while she looked at his kit. She purred, "Imagine having Redstar and his deputy daughter."
Redtail closed his eyes in humbleness, "That would be a wonder, but pray to StarClan it would not happen soon."
Lionheart, Frostfur, and Brindleface murmured their agreement. Tigerclaw's tail twitched and he took another bite of his meal. Firepaw casually mewed, "Of course; Bluestar is a great leader." She stood up and turned, muttering in the moment before she walked away, "But, like all great leaders and otherwise, her reign will not last forever." She did not watch to see if the warriors heard her or not. She was ready to groom outside of her den, and then to rest in preparation for the day to come; she had a hunting assessment that would surely be as easy as maintaining her father's love.

Firepaw looked around, took in her surroundings. She was at Fourtrees, but she had no idea how she got there. She had just been hunting with Runningwind....
Two scents in particular mingled in the crisp night air. ThunderClan and WindClan, undeniably. But the scents of clans lingered amongst the great oaks often. Though, that did not explain why the scents of the two clans were stronger than of the other two. She glanced around, and then, she saw them. A tom and she-cat were beside each other, tails twined, softly murmuring to each other. There was no moon shining down on them, Silverpelt did not offer enough light to reveal the identities of the cats.
Firepaw crept closer, being careful to make no noise. Which was her clanmate? She could not tell. The scent of the she-cat was undoubtedly ThunderClan, but not particularly anyone she knew.
"What is going on?" she wondered in a whisper. She decided to listen in to their conversation, and so she perked her ears and sat still, eyes intent on the couple.
The she-cat happily informed the tom, "I wish you could be there, he's growing into such a strong warrior!"
The tom purred back, "Well, he is an apprentice now; perhaps I'll get to see him at the next gathering."
The she-cat seemed to grow shy, "Do you think Pinestar will allow Windpaw to attend so soon?"
The tom pressed his muzzle closer to the she-cat, "He can't keep him away from a gathering forever."
"I don't know if the clan trusts him," the she-cat confessed, referring to their son again.
Firepaw was genuinely confused. Who were these cats, one apparently a clanmate of her own? Why did they have a son and who were they talking about? Firepaw and Lightningpaw were the only apprentices at present; in fact, Firepaw did not know a warrior with the name 'wind' except for Runningwind. She was certain the handsome tabby tom was not the half-clan son in question.
"Firepaw," she flicked her ears at the sound of her name. Had the ThunderClan she-cat spoken to her? The voice came again, "Firepaw, why aren't you ready yet?"
Fourtrees faded away as morning light engulfed Firepaw and she found herself laying in her nest, Lightningpaw softly snoring beside her, in the apprentices' den.
"Firepaw?" the voice came again. Panic gripped Firepaw: that was Bluestar's voice!
"I'm coming!" Firepaw called and squeezed out of the den in a rush, almost running into her mentor.
Bluestar's eyes expressed no emotion as she stated, "I did not expect this from you."
"I'm sorry," Firepaw said repetitively between licks as she rushed to groom herself.
It was a terrible start to the day. And she did not quickly recover from her morning misstep. Several birds fluttered out of her paws. In hunting a squirrel she had snapped a twig; while she caught the fuzzy-tailed rodent, she had to travel to a new part of the territory to find more prey. And the worst of the fails was a mouse whose tail slid right between her fangs.
But she managed a few catches. A couple of voles, a rabbit, a thrush and robin. It was not the worst of catches to bring back to camp. Still, she was disappointed with herself and she could see her mentor was as well. The apprentice dropped her catch on the fresh-kill pile and, ginger tail dragging in the dust of the clearing, made her way toward her den. She collapsed to the ground outside the entrance and began grooming, hoping no one would ask her about the assessment.
Her wish was not granted. "You get back from hunting all morning and don't grab something to eat for yourself?" It was Leopardfoot. As the sunlight shined down on her, it was revealed that her pelt was mottled instead of a solid black.
Firepaw sighed, pausing in her grooming and stretching in laying out so as to be more comfortable. "I'll eat later," she didn't know if she really would, "I just don't have an appetite right now."
Leopardfoot sat down in front of the apprentice and tipped her head to the side, "Why? What's the matter?"
Firepaw looked at her paws and mumbled, "I woke up late and then my assessment didn't go as well as I planned."
Leopardfoot looked over her should at the pile of fresh kill and then back at Firepaw, "That's not bad."
Firepaw shrugged. Without thinking, words escaped her and began streaming into explanation, "It was just so weird. The dream I had last night. That's why I woke up late and why I was distracted during my assessment. And the dream served no point; I don't even understand it."
"What happened in it?" Leopardfoot asked, something in her voice seemed to suggest she had something special in mind.
Firepaw blinked several times, letting the dream fill her thoughts. "Well, at first I was hunting with Runningwind. But then, I was suddenly at Fourtrees and it was night. There were two cats there: a ThunderClan she-cat and a WindClan tom. But I didn't recognize the she-cat and they talked about Pinestar being leader and an apprentice, who was their son, named Windpaw, but other than Runningwind, there's no one here with that sort of name."
Leopardfoot understood better than the apprentice. "There was a tom named Windflight in the clan once," she explained, "and he was half-clan, a ThunderClan mother and WindClan father." Firepaw was silent. In that time, Leopardfoot commented, "I wonder why you dreamt about them."
The apprentice swished her tail. Half-clan? There really had been a half-clan ThunderClan warrior? "What happened?"
"What do you mean?" Leopardfoot replied first, but then added, "He became a ThunderClan warrior, had kits, and eventually joined StarClan."
"Kits?" Her fur began to raise. Were they half-clan too? Or was there mother ThunderClan?
"Thistleclaw, Rosetail, and another she-cat named Sweetpaw," Leopardfoot told her.
Firepaw's fur fell a bit flatter. She trusted Thistleclaw and Rosetail. She would never have doubted their loyalty. There was no doubt about it that they were ThunderClan cats to their core. "Oh," she meowed.
The conversation did not last much longer. The remainder of the day seemed to pass in a blur. Firepaw was lost in thoughts of half-clan warriors, their betrayals and descendants all around. How many other instances were hidden amidst scents of clan unity?