embers [c]

Smokestep. That was her name now... not Smokepaw, not Smokekit. Those names had come and gone, and left her with this... the one that she would keep for the rest of her days. It felt weird, sitting vigil in camp all night, a new name, a new position, and the silence broken only by the nocturnal wildlife, an occasional snore... or a whimper from Falconkit in the nursery. Once or twice before, she'd poked her head in to check on her sleeping mentor and her kits, but they were sleeping soundly now. The little ones would be apprentices soon, no doubt, and she wondered who would get the sun-striped tom with the troubled dreams.

Hours later, as the sun began to peek through the trees, signaling that her vigil was finally over, Smokestep made her way towards the apprentices' den. She wasn't very tired - in fact, she was half-buzzing with energy, despite having been up all night. She was a warrior now. She could join patrols whenever she wanted, could leave camp without an escort... actually, that sounded awful, why would she ever want to leave camp alone?

As she stepped around the sleeping bodies to get back to her nest, Smokestep misplaced a foot and tripped, tumbling awkwardly into a sleeping ball of ginger fur. She untangled herself with a quiet squeak, pulling away from the apprentice she'd so rudely awakened, and whispering loudly, "I'm so sorry, Firepaw!" It was then that she realized... "Oh, I'm such a mousebrain, I'm not even supposed to be in here anymore!" She was a warrior... and warriors didn't sleep in the apprentices' den. Duh.

Firepaw didn't usually dream. However, when he felt a paw, and someone tumbling onto him, he thought he was. Sleepily, he awakened, amber eyes blinking slowly. He was sore where he got stepped on, sure, but he was still too tired to care. Or did he really even care? It was an accident. The ginger ball of fluff got to his paws, looking at Smokestep inquisitively for a moment. Why was she apologizing...? That's when it hit him, she stepped on him. Brows raised, he beckoned her out of the den so he wouldn't wake any of the other apprentices... or she wouldn't.

"It's alright." He mewed, quietly. Firepaw felt embarrassed, suddenly having a set of eyes on him. He'd never talked to Smokestep, he just knew she was a new warrior. "I'm not hurt or anything, it didn't even really startle me. I feel like it should've, actually, based on your reaction." The tom's chronically unruly fur was even fluffier than usual, having just been so rudely awoken. "Have you made your nest in the Warrior's Den yet? I can help you if you want." Punctuating the sentence was a short yawn, and he shook out his fur. He may as well offer to help her, its not like he was going back to sleep soon.

Guiltily, Smokestep followed Firepaw out of the den at his insistence. It was the crack of dawn, and the first patrol was gearing up to leave... which meant several warriors were out of the den. She sagged in relief... less people for her to step on... or wake up, unintentionally, when she finally made it in there. Turning back to Firepaw as he addressed her, she slicked back her ears and sank down to her belly with a quiet sigh. "No, no I haven't done anything in there yet... it's all so new, this being a warrior thing. I feel like I'm not even ready, I-I'm a useless fighter, and, a subpar hunter... and I... I just want to help the clan, you know? But I don't even know where to start."

Realizing she'd been rambling, Smokestep glanced up at Firepaw and grimaced apologetically. "Sorry... didn't mean to go on that long... I, I'd love some help... if you don't mind..."

Firepaw flicked his ginger ears back momentarily. Smokestep felt like he did, wanting to help, but not knowing how. "I understand... I've been hoping for guidance when I go on my Moonstone, but I don't think Starclan can tell me what to do. I just want to be the best, for the clan." Firepaw's fluffy tail tip flicked in annoyance at himself for a moment, before he continued, "I don't mind. I like being helpful." His tone didn't exactly sound like he enjoyed it, but that was just the tiredness nipping at his brain.

"...Where do you want to start first, or are you just getting your old nest and reusing it?" Firepaw continued in his quiet tone, almost afraid to speak. Not due to anything Smokestep had done, of course, it was just difficult. He had been forced into interaction with a cat he hardly knew, and the ginger apprentice couldn't say he was thrilled. He did at least attempt to ensure Smokestep wouldn't think any apprehension or annoyance was any fault of her own, but it was hard.

"I... I think I'll just make a new one?" Smokestep said quietly. Mostly, that was because she didn't want to risk stepping on another apprentice. She offered Firepaw a smile. "Maybe we can collect some feathers... while we eat breakfast? I think I saw a quail on the fresh-kill pile... would you like to split it? With me, I mean?"

Stars, she'd never been good at making friends, especially in a clan full of capable cats who liked to hunt and fight when she was awful at both. And here she was making a fool of herself after she'd already woken poor Firepaw up so unceremoniously. Face hot, she turned away and started marching off to the fresh-kill pile before Firepaw could even answer.

"O-okay!" Quickly following after Smokestep as she began padding away, Firepaw couldn't help but wonder if he had said something wrong. She didn't seem angry at least. Breakfast was a good idea, if he was going to stay up, he may as well eat. Hurrying over, he plucked the quail out of the fresh-kill pile, placing it in front of Smokestep. He got to work quickly, gently plucking feathers from the dead bird. They'd be comfortable at least, even if they could be a bit of a pain.

Before long, a feather had floated up, landing on Firepaw's nose. Annoyed, he raised a paw to get it off, but it was sticking. Here he was, nearly a warrior, and he was being beaten by a feather. Scrunching his nose, he backed away from the quail, going to the ground and having to use both of his front paws to get the feather from his face. With a pause, and sneezed, and then stood back up. "...well that was embarrassing," he mumbled, looking at Smokestep with a twitch of his tail. Firepaw did his best to finish plucking his part of the quail without any more setbacks, pelt hot. He supposed they were even on embarrassing moments at this point, at least.