Glory of Morning Light [closed]

The light was still weak in the sky, as it was barely dawn as Burningpaw headed out to practice climbing. She had the lean but strong back legs of a SkyClan cat, and she loved to use them. Whenever she was on the ground, the flaming tabby felt uncomfortable. It was claustrophobic, and she felt uneasy. There were so many bad things down here... Picking up her pace, Burningpaw drove deeper into the forest. Raking her multi-colored gaze across the treeline, she found a good tree to climb up on. Carefully planning her climb, the apprentice leaped from branch to branch until she was up top. Now this, this was better. She could see the sky up here and it felt more like home... the mountains. This was home. She had to come to terms with that. The apprentice settled into the nook of the branch. Burningpaw wasn't sure, really, what she came out here to do.

After a good while, Burningpaw began to doze off. She had woken up, early after all. What felt like a few heartbeats after closing her eyes, she jumped to a loud crack splitting the ear. With her heart thudding in her chest, Burningpaw stood rapidly, glancing around to what the noise was. Finally, she spotted it. It was just Lightpaw, a fellow SkyClan apprentice. Happily, she began to leap from one tree to the next until she was directly above the tom. "Hey! Lightpaw! Up here you dork!" she called out, her tail flicking from side to side.

On the rare occasions Lightpaw left camp unaccompanied, he made sure someone—usually one or two or all of his siblings—knew where he was. Today, he’d said he was going hunting. Extra prey was never unwelcome in SkyClan, and Lightpaw, a better hunter by the day, would be sure not to return empty-pawed…but a cat could still find birds and squirrels at sunhigh. He’d chosen this time for a simple reason, one his family (and Mistyrain, and Tinystar; the list got longer by the day) could never know. His fear of heights was too big a secret to keep forever, especially as he crept closer and closer to warrior age—so, he thought, why not erase it?

That was easier said than done. He got as far as halfway up a tree trunk, one careful step at a time; then he looked down, and that was the end of training for the day. Though he swiftly put the offending tree at his back, adrenaline kept its claws buried in him as he padded through the forest. He was so on edge even another Sharptooth couldn't have made him more nervous. A good catch was what he needed now…before he could try again. Maybe he'd start by climbing something smaller—

Crack. Ears flattening, he looked at his paws to find a stick snapped neatly in half underneath them. Stealth had never been his strong suit. With a pelt like his, he’d been doomed from the start. Lightpaw leaned down to pick up the stick; a voice from above froze him mid-motion. Bracing himself against the trunk with his front paws, the pale tabby soon spotted a flash of red amidst the leaves and bark: Burningpaw, looking down at him. He wasn't normally a social cat, but compared to what awaited him, he would gladly take a brief conversation. ”How long have you been there?” he meowed, tilting his head as he stared upward. ”You…didn’t hear that, did you?” Lightpaw tried not to sound too hopeful, with little success. How had he managed to completely miss her scent?

Burningpaw purred, unphazed at Lightpaw's nervousness. Swiftly, the red apprentice slid down the trunk of the tree, landing on the soft ground of SkyClan. Turning, the she-cat padded the extra few feet to join Lightpaw by the stick he had cracked. "Only a few heartbeats. And yeah, I heard the stick crack. But that's okay. It's not like we need to hide or anything here." The last part was more to help herself, to comfort her anxiety levels that had started to rise. There was no scent of danger in the air, and besides. If something did happen, she and Lightpaw could fight it off, right? Or climb a tree, right? Swallowing the fear, Burningpaw focused her attention on Lightpaw.

"What are you doing up so early, Lightpaw?" Her voice was soft and warm, a casual but friendly tone. She sat and curled her bright tail around her paws, and drew a lazy paw over her ear, only putting it down to peak at the tom with her multi colored eyes with curiosity.

As Burningpaw made her way down the trunk, Lightpaw stepped away to give her room. At the revelation that she had heard the crack, his face fell; then it occurred to him that she probably hadn’t seen the climbing disaster, which helped him bounce back. ”I told Sandpaw I was leaving, so we shouldn’t get yelled at…” Whenever he held them up against the Sharptooth or the dog pack, a lot of things got much less scary. A scolding by Mistyrain or Tinystar? Not one of those things. Lightpaw raised his muzzle, relaxing when he confirmed the freshest scent by far was Burningpaw’s. ”I think we’re safe.”

Burningpaw sat, apparently settling in for a proper talk. Lightpaw pawed a small rock out of the way before sitting down as well, letting out a quiet sigh. It wasn’t the best way to get to know one of his denmates, but Burningpaw was…well, she was a lot of things. Right now, something in her voice encouraged him. ”I was trying to hunt, but”—his ears lowered—”I might have scared everything off.” Shaking off the embarrassment faster this time, he managed a slight smile. ”How about you? What were you doing so high up?”

Oops, Burningpaw hadn't told anyone she was leaving. Though she tried her hardest to abide by the rules, sometimes she forgot about them. She really tried her best to follow them, though. And she would never break the warrior code if she could help them. As Lightpaw continued talking, she got a sense that he was... nervous. Instantly, her fierce protective side kicked in and all of her anxiety dissipated. It was so much easier living when she had someone to protect, even if it was just for right now.

"I miss the mountains!" she blurted out to the tom, much to her dismay. She hadn't told anyone this fact, not even her mother or her mentor. But instead of shying away, she owned it and straightened her shoulders. "It was the only home I knew, I lived there my whole life. And now I'm expected to accept this place as my true home? Not yet. It's just land here. So I go up in the trees so I can feel like I did back home." She flicked her tail as if to say 'oh well'.

Burningpaw’s outburst caught Lightpaw off guard. As she spoke, he blinked at her, smile fading into confusion. This, the forest, was SkyClan’s true home; they’d fought so hard to return to it that Lightpaw, despite his initial skepticism, had forced himself to adjust because he’d thought it the right thing to do. In most ways, he’d succeeded, though there were days he found himself pretending the rocks scattered across the forest were the same as the mountains’ stony floor. But hearing Burningpaw talk about their first home… After all this time, part of him still echoed her words.

For a moment, the pale tabby was quiet, watching his paw trace invisible lines over the solid dirt. Burningpaw hadn’t said as much, but this felt like an intensely private thing. None of Lightpaw’s siblings seemed uncomfortable here; Lightpaw himself hadn't talked about the mountains at all since SkyClan's reunion. ”I miss them too, a little,” he murmured, as if he might get in trouble for saying so. When no one jumped down from the trees to chastise him, he continued in a stronger voice. ”The view was better in the mountains; the sunrise was so pretty. It’s not the same trying to see it from camp…” He let himself trail off before looking back up at Burningpaw. "Does it help, being in the trees?"

Burningpaw softened as Lightpaw spoke. So she wasn't the only one that missed the mountains. Her body posture relaxed and she scooted closer to the tom. "Of course it does. Doesn't it help you? It's claustrophobic down here." The flaming tabby turned her gaze away from Lightpaw and eyed the nearest tree. She contemplated running up it, but she felt as if that would break the rhythem of conversation. She turned back to the tom. "I feel alive and carefree up there. Just like back home." Home. She said it again like this wasn't her home. But it was.

Suddenly, Burningpaw was closer. Not terribly close—especially not to Lightpaw, who shied away from physical contact even more rarely than he sneaked out of camp—but it was still startling until he noticed the red tabby had relaxed. He exhaled slowly, letting go of his own nervousness. Though they hadn’t even broached the subject of patrolling or training, an unusual thing for Lightpaw, this was turning out to be a nice meeting.

”I wouldn’t know,” he said, and promptly tensed again. It was exactly what Burningpaw had done—he’d spoken without thinking. Unlike her, however, Lightpaw didn’t double down on what he’d said; he raised a paw and for some time focused on smoothing down its fur. All the while, he thought. If they were admitting things they didn’t want to be public knowledge…well, it was a fair exchange. One harmless secret for another, between two cats who didn’t feel quite right in their rightful home. Besides, he might leave out parts of the truth from time to time, but he wasn’t a liar. ”I’ve never climbed one. It…it sounds nice, though,” Lightpaw finished weakly.

Burningpaw was taken aback. A SkyClan apprentice has never been in a tree? What kind of craziness was this? She tilted her head and flicked her tail in confusion. "How is that possible?" The she-cat was genuinely confused. How did his mentor not force him up? Why didn't he just... Do it. Either way, Burningpaw stood, and padded to the tree she was eyeing up earlier. She stopped at the base, and looked up.

"This is a good one to start with. The first big branch is super low. Here, watch me." Burningpaw didn't even consider that he didn't want to go up a tree. It was simply an oversight of his mentor. Bunching up her strong legs, she took a huge leap and landed halfway up to the branch. Gripping the bark with her claws, she quickly scuttled up. With her paws firmly on the branch, Burningpaw glanced down at Lightpaw. "Come on," she cheered him on, her voice carrying across the forest. "It's time to remember home." her heart sped up as she waited for Lightpaw to join her.

Lightpaw winced a bit at Burningpaw’s words. Avoiding climbing had been easier thanks to his mentor’s illness, but he was sure the warrior who’d been training him in her absence had begun to suspect something. Even Burningpaw questioned it immediately. ”Mistyrain was sick,” he started to explain, but gave up when he saw Burningpaw had wandered toward a tree. Dread bunched up high in Lightpaw’s chest as the red tabby leapt, then scrambled to the closest branch and found her balance. He knew what was coming next. Sure enough, Burningpaw beckoned him onward.

Her encouragement, where he'd expected laughter or mockery, gave him the confidence to place his forepaws on the tree once again. Lightpaw wanted to hope—wanted, at the very least, not to be a disappointment—so he stepped back, crouched, and sprang toward the tree, locking his claws into the trunk some distance below where Burningpaw had landed. At the back of his head, something began to buzz. Maybe it was truly from the lack of ground beneath him; maybe it was because he knew Burningpaw was watching; maybe both. He didn’t take another step. The branch Burningpaw had chosen was so low, but it might as well have been across the forest for his hesitance to move toward it. ”I want to,” Lightpaw said to the bark, ”but I don’t know if I can. I've never climbed a tree because I—I'm scared.”

There. It was out. "Please don't tell anyone," he mumbled, fear-bright eyes fixed on Burningpaw; it was safer than looking at the ground.

Burningpaw's cheery demeaner quickly melted into an air of concern and deep empathy for the other apprentice. Silently, she raced down the side of the trunk and stood below Lightpaw. Theoretically, if he were to fall, he'd crash into her. But it bridged the distance between he and the ground. "I won't tell anyone, of course not." she said firmly, looking up at the hanging apprentice. "I'm scared of being on the ground. But we have to do it, Lightpaw." she paused, struggling to find the words to comfort the tom. She so badly wanted him to climb, and see the beauty.

"I'm right here for you, Lightpaw. I will catch you if you fall..." She braced herself, incase he did. "For me, just for me, will you go another whisker length? We'll go slowly. Just another whisker." Her voice was soft and soothing, and she mentally shoved the apprentice up slowly. He could do it. He was of SkyClan blood. And best of all, he was a strong warrior. She remained quiet, her multi-colored eyes brimming with hope.

As Burningpaw began her descent, Lightpaw’s heart sank. He turned his gaze toward the trunk, furious with himself somewhere beneath the terror. His first shot at having someone who understood, his first potential friend, and he’d ruined it. From the ground, he heard Burningpaw’s voice. Bits of relief poked through the fear. She hadn’t left; she was going to keep his secret. Lightpaw risked a glance downward to see cold earth—and in the midst of it, a pelt red as an evening sky.

She was afraid of being on the ground, yet there she was. It was only right he try. For her, for the view that awaited him at the top, and for SkyClan, too. He’d never managed to do it before, but Lightpaw had not started apprenticeship knowing the exact way to crouch, or how to make his paws glide across the earth so softly they couldn’t be felt, or how to pick out another Clan’s scent amidst those of Clanmates and prey. That had taken time and effort; he had plenty of both to give. Hadn’t he been trying to climb mere minutes before Burningpaw had appeared? The only difference now was that he had an audience…and someone to catch him.

He took a deep breath. ”Okay.” His voice was steadying; that, in Lightpaw’s opinion, was good enough considering the circumstances. ”Okay, I’ll try. Another whisker.” Lifting his paws felt like trying to lift the Halfstone. Still, he inched forward, upward, claws gripping the bark anew with each slow step he took. The closer the first branch got, the sturdier it looked, until he was past where Burningpaw's initial leap had taken her. "Is that good?" For fear of undoing his progress, Lightpaw didn't try to find Burningpaw again. After what he'd already said, trusting her with this didn't seem like much of a stretch.

Burningpaw patiently waited as Lightpaw slowly eased up the trunk of the tree. Her heart raced with excitement- he was doing it! Her mind was clouded with the possibilities, and trying to figure out how she should now approach the situation. Should she egg him on to go further? Should she help guide him back down? Perhaps she should jump up on the branch and guide him from up there.

"You're doing so good Lightpaw. You are literally half a tail length from the branch. Can you make it that much more? You'll be so proud of yourself if you make it!" She called up to the light colored tom hanging above her head. Her voice was louder this time- a mix of excitement and wanting to make sure he heard. The words had only paused to come out of her mouth before she called up to him again. "And I'll be proud of you." she added. It was obviously decided, as keeper of the secret, that she would be the one to help him overcome his fear.

A stream of encouragement continued from below until he was nearly to his destination. Half a tail-length away, in fact. On the ground, it would be a couple of pawsteps. Here, it was a couple more. Lightpaw swallowed, looking up at the space between himself and the branch.

A denmate—a friend—proud of him. That sounded awfully nice.

All of a sudden, the branch was just close enough. He dug his claws in and hauled himself onto it, then pressed into the trunk, grateful for the added sense of stability now that he had something solid both below and beneath him. Bark jabbed at him through his pelt. The problem of getting down remained, as always, but… I did it, he thought, something like wonder forming on his face. He was proud. Though climbing an entire tree would have been more impressive, Lightpaw wouldn’t ask that much of himself. This fear could be overcome or adapted to. It was possible. It was possible for him.

Being Lightpaw, he said none of this. ”That’s…that’s a good start,” he meowed. ”I don't think I can go higher, but..." He leaned just enough to catch sight of Burningpaw's vibrant pelt, then in a flash returned to his safe spot against the tree, leaving enough space for her to join him if she wished to. The view from here was utterly unimpressive, branches, branches, and more branches; he could hardly believe he was seeing it. A tiny smile crept onto his muzzle.

Burningpaw let out a mrrow of happiness. She slipped to the other side of the trunk and quickly joined Lightpaw on the branch. She carefully stepped next to him on the branch to not startle him back to the ground. "I'm so proud of you, Lightpaw." She said, rubbing her cheek against his. Personal boundaries was not something Burningpaw knew. If you were a clanmate, you were her friend. The red apprentice sat back on her paws, and paused to take in the view. Sure, it was low, but it was better than being on the ground. "Even from this branch we have an advantage you know. Another clan's warrior probably won't be looking up. We can drop down right on them." Her voice dripped with passion- it was clear she was a through and through SkyClan.

Even though her point was made, the chatterbox couldn't shut up. "When you're ready to go higher- not today of course - I can help you with that too. Soon enough, you'll be flying through the trees like a squirrel!" She nudged his shoulder ever so softly, not even enough to bump him. "Let me know when you're ready to go down and I'll help you."