Glory of Morning Light [closed]

Physical contact rarely bothered Lightpaw; he’d grown up getting his mother’s attention by bumping into her and flicking Maplepaw with his tail when he thought she was about to run off somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. Still, Lightpaw’s claws dug deeper into the branch. Once his head cleared and he realized Burningpaw wasn’t going to push him off, he gave her a gentle nudge in response, not lifting his paws from the wood. He continued to watch her as she spoke of the more practical uses of climbing. It sounded like one of the lessons his stand-in mentor had given. Every Clan had something that made them what they were; he could see how SkyClan’s affinity for heights gave them an edge in battle. But Burningpaw’s tone held an enthusiasm he’d never heard from the cats who had trained him; he couldn't help but listen.

In the (very brief) silence afterward, Lightpaw stared into the sea of leaves above. "I don't know if I'll ever be that good at this..." Oddly, though he'd spent most of his life up to this point trying to keep his fear hidden from his Clan, there was something comforting about knowing he didn't have learn how to climb alone. ”But, thank you," he meowed slowly. "I’ve never been able to do this before.” When Burningpaw bumped his shoulder, the pale tabby was abruptly reminded of where he was and, more importantly, that he would have to get down somehow. He couldn’t sit in this tree forever. His siblings would never let him hear the end of it if he did. ”Now might be a good time.” His voice had gone a bit faint. He'd done a fine job of not looking at the ground, but he'd have no choice if he wanted to return to it.