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

"You're welcome, I hope the opportunity appears soon for you." Tabbyfur smiled and straightened up, licking her shoulder, "I'm sure they'll be very excited to see their big sister!" 

Snowpaw felt her fur burn with pride. She had never thought of that before. Did her siblings even know of her existence. She hoped they did, hoped her father had been kind enough to tell them that somewhere, over the borders of Riverclan and Thunderclan, within the camp of a foreign clan, was their sister.    

"No, you're right. I'll talk to him when we get back to camp." Snowpaw felt some relief. At last, someone would interfere on her behalf. Perhaps Hawkfire had simply overlooked the young she-cat by accident. Snowpaw did not want to believe that her half-clan status had anything to do with it. Besides, her leader had always been a benevolent one, and she believed that he had no discrimination for her. Indeed, Snowpaw felt like Hawkstar had treated her birth among the clan fairly, and as was right, had fought for her to remain in residence within Thunderclan. After all, why would he have fought for her if he didn't believe she would have made a fine Thunderclan warrior cat?

Tabbyfur shook her tawny, striped head, and leaped to her feet lightly. 

"Hmm...Do you think you're okay to train now? I wouldn't mind going hunting if you're still kinda stressed."

Hopping to her feet and feeling refreshed, Snowpaw meowed with enthusiasm, "I'm great to train now, Tabbyfur. Thanks for listening to me. This half-clan stuff...sometimes makes me nervous. But I feel much better now!" 
 
[center][h1]Bravefeather[/h1][/center]

A shadow of suspicion seemed to flicker across Shadowpaw's dappled calico face, and for a moment, he seemed frozen in deep, troubling thought. [i]For all his outgoing limit-testing, he's still an observant young tom,[/i] Bravefeather thought with a swell of pride. Surely, Shadowpaw must have noticed the fact that Bravefeather rarely sent him anywhere even remotely dangerous, where caution was required. At the moment, it was just too much of a risk, and Bravefeather didn't want to be responsible for the endangerment of anyone's son. The long-legged tom was sure his young charge would mature up at some point or another; already, he expressed the thought process of a cat who took what he was given and thought about it. He just needed to reign in that propensity for pranking other cats. Some didn't seem to mind it, but Bravefeather had once found a dead mouse in his nest, and wasn't too keen on experiencing similar traumatic experiences. 

Shadowpaw shook out his fluffy white, ginger, and black head, and then bounded off towards the roots of the Great Sycamore. Bravefeather slunk after him quietly, not wanting to break the apprentice's concentration. Settling himself in an indiscriminate patch of weed like grass that had hinged itself in between the roots of the Sycamore, he keenly observed the actions of his apprentice.  

Shadowpaw's head had perked up, and his eyes swiveled back and forth as he thoroughly inspected his surroundings. Another swell of pride rose in Bravefeather's chest, and he resisted the urge to purr loudly. Next them, he thought contentedly, he would accompany Shadowpaw near Snakerocks, where they would hunt together for voles and adders. 

The apprentice had adopted a hunting stance, his stomach scraping the high standing, weed-like grasses that grew around the three. His nose twitched, and he seemed to spot something out of Bravefeather's line of sight. At first, Bravefeather tensed, waiting for the killing pounce that he was sure was bound to come. But it never came. Bravefeather wondered with curiosity what had happened, but resolved to wait patiently for his apprentice's kill. 

It was always rewarding to see an apprentice succeed in their endeavors, and though they weren't kin, Bravefeather felt they were as good as. By that extension, he felt an immense amount of pride when his apprentice executed hunting and battle training in a superior and meticulous way, and felt extremely contended when his apprentice triumphed in his attempts.    

Finally, he seemed to settle on circling around the tree, and Bravefeather lightly sprung to his feet, following the young tom at a distance with the alacrity that only a mentor cat could have. A tawny colored mouse exposed itself from the shelter of the brush around, and Shadowpaw pursued it. At the last moment, Bravefeather's ears flattened and he watched with disappointment as the mouse scampered off, too far away too understand what had transpired.  

Finally, luck seemed to lay within the paws of the young apprentice. His nose perked up, and Bravefeather could see his mouth open to draw in the scents of the surrounding brush. His fluffy body tensed, and Bravefeather found himself standing on the tip of his paws to see the target of his apprentice's attack. In the blink of an eye, the apprentice had jetted off and snapped up a juicy red squirrel. Squirrel clamped in his jaws safely, he turned around and surveyed the roots of the tree for Bravefeather.

When he spotted the tom, who had taken to observing from the top of a particularly gnarled and high standing root, he bounded over. 

"Great job!" Bravefeather half-meowed, half-purred. The squirrel was a big robust animal, and Bravefeather was sure it would make some cat happy. His eyes flickered back to the distance and watched for sign or sound of Sandfire and Stonepaw. Not seeing them, he turned back to the apprentice, contemplating their next action.

They could return to the camp. But he didn't want to risk upsetting Sandfire, when she was already in a foul mood. Besides, Stonepaw would end up becoming the object of her rage, and Bravefeather could not put that strain on any apprentice. He looked between the direction of the Snakerocks and the camp, and resolved to ask his apprentice.

"Shadowpaw," he meowed, "Would you like to return to the camp, or," and at this, his feathery tail flicked in the direction of the Snakerocks, "Follow after Sandfire and Stonepaw?"