[center][h1]Snowpaw[/h1][/center]

Snowpaw's claws dug deeply into the gritty sand of the Hollow. The wind blew aridly, and carried with it the scents and sounds of the abundant prey that scurried in the underbrush of Thunderclan's lush forests. Above the cat's heads, round, cotton like clouds floated by at a leisurely pace. 

The Hollow always made Snowpaw thirsty. It's dry nature yowled of parched throats and deserted wastelands. But it's soft sands made a gentle cradle for cats who stumbled or were tripped in training practice. Cats from her clan frequented the Hollow to raise apprentices in the way of Warriors.

Tabbyfur was meowing instructions at Snowpaw, but Snowpaw's mind had drifted. The border between Riverclan and Thunderclan lay only a few fox-lengths away. A few fox-lengths away from her father, and her half siblings. She had never met her father, never even seen him. For that matter, she had never attended a Clan meeting before, and recently, her paws had prickled with anticipation hoping that Hawkstar would pick her for one. But moons had gone by since her apprenticeship, and she remained stationary, stuck executing apprentice duties. She wondered if it was a calculated move; did Hawkstar want to shield Snowpaw from Riverclan? Her mind began to wander, and if not for Tabbyfur's low, crouched stance, Snowpaw would have been inclined to stay daydreaming.

As it was, she blinked confusedly at her mentor. Fur bristling with embarrassment, she meowed,

"Could you repeat that Tabbyfur?"  

[center][h1]Sandfire and Bravefeather[/h1][/center]

Sandfire rolled her emerald eyes, but watched with affection as the two apprentices bounded off. Hopefully, the hunting would be good. The Great Sycamore was a short distance away from the camp, and was generally brimming with prey. The apprentices would have a good run tiring themselves out underneath it long, gnarled branches. 

"Good day, Sandfire, Bravefeather." 

Sandfire almost tripped on her paws. As it was, she strained to stutter out a coherent "Good day," back, and was reduced to flicking her tail amiably in recognition. Bravefeather's keen eyes flashed with suspicion as he watched her forced effort, and the way she averted her eyes from Mallownose's pelt, but as they plodded on forward, he made no move to mention it.

Sandfire, in the meanwhile, was experiencing something akin to a midlife crisis. On the one paw, kits were a firm part of the she-cat's future. Weather by instinct or by choice, she had always envisioned herself to one day be a proud, plump she-cat in the Queen's den. Of course, she quite imagined returning to her Warrior life after the kits were apprenticed, but she didn't plan to stop at one litter. 

The one necessary obstacle that stood in her way, however, was the need of a mate. She needed a mate to start a family. And that's where things got complicated.

Mallownose couldn't be her mate. And she couldn't like him, much less fall in love with him. It was these tumultuous thoughts that caused Sandfire to trip on a twisted and rotting twig. She scoffed and Bravefeather looked at her with amusement.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No!" She snapped, bounding forward to catch up with the aprpentices. 

"Where do you all want to hunt?" She meowed to them, licking her bristled fur smooth.

"I had thought we had settled on Great Sycamore? It would have been a fine place for hunting," Bravefeather mewed catching up. He looked at two apprentices expectantly.