sign of fire

Mothglow had dreamt of fading fires, little more than ashes and cinders, and while running over what it could possibly mean she found herself at the very simple answer: the as-yet unattended matter of her own apprentice. It seemed that StarClan had spoken, and they pointed to Cinderpaw: a strange choice, in her eyes, when the young apprentice had shown no inclination toward healing before or after her apprentice ceremony.

(Then again, no cat had in recent times, and so the pool of potential candidates was an empty one indeed; and Mothglow herself hadn't been so inclined before the flood, either - perhaps her perception was skewed after so long?)

As it was, she set about seeking out the apprentice in question. They would speak of this, at least.

The sky was light, sun hovering overhead with its angry gaze. It sat low enough in the trees to blind Cinderpaw as she rose from her moss nest, blinking sleep from her eyes. Unlike other clans, dusk was ShadowClan's morning. The young apprentice had grown accustomed to days like these, waking up blisteringly early to leave and hunt before Tulipfang could catch her. It was a kind of harmless passive aggressiveness, one that ensured Cinderpaw was doing her part, waking up early, while avoiding cats that were less than desirable. It also helped to distract her wandering mind. There was no use in thinking or pondering over the red sunset. Contemplating one's current situation was fruitless compared to all a cat could achieve in those moments. While others groomed and greeted their denmates, Cinderpaw pulled herself from her nest, opting to skip the formalities and jump straight into the daily routine. This was how she greeted every day, and Cinderpaw wouldn't change it for the world.

Oddly enough, the apprentice was stopped in her tracks by Mothglow, the sleepy-eyed medicine cat wandering around near the camp's exit. Mothglow was tolerable enough. Not bossy enough to get on Cinderpaw's nerves, and not flighty enough to become a nuisance. She was alright, the apprentice supposed. But what was she doing up so early? That was Cinderpaw's thing. "Don't you have herbs to sort or something?"

"Oh, there's always something that needs doing," Mothglow assured her. "And that's actually what I wanted to discuss with you. I'm fairly certain StarClan has sent me a sign - they want you to become the next medicine cat apprentice," she continued, shifting her weight from one paw to the other as she spoke. "Now, I'm not going to force you to be my apprentice, Cinderpaw. I certainly wasn't forced into the position, and it's not a choice to be made lightly. I was very nearly a warrior when I chose to walk this path instead. But I felt I should let you know that the offer was there, should you ever want to take it."

As Mothglow opened her maw to speak, Cinderpaw guessed that the black tabby would only answer her previous question and move on. But the words that fell from the medicine cat's mouth were far from what the apprentice expected. Cinderpaw blinked in shock, maw hanging open. A sharp laugh erupted from her throat, and the she-cat took a step backwards, almost appalled that Mothglow could even suggest such a thing. "You...you got a message... from StarClan? About me!" Cinderpaw's nose was crinkled into that of nasty amusement as she padded around the medicine cat. The sentence struck a chord in her, and she laughed it off. It wasn't possible that StarClan wanted Cinderpaw. She hadn't even fulfilled her duties for the day. The fresh-kill pile was empty, and the elder's needed cleaning. Cinderpaw had been falling behind, she'd only caught two mice and half a toad the other day. Pathetic. And now Mothglow had the audacity to say StarClan wanted her?

What kind of blasphemy was this? No one wanted Cinderpaw... No one... The apprentice stopped herself before her mind went down that path. She puffed her chest out and dug her claws into the nettles, lashing her tail. "I don't want to be a medicine cat, Mothglow. I don't know the first thing about healing. I can hunt and fight but the kits are scared of me! You don't want me. Have you been sniffing too much catmint? Are you getting old?" Cinderpaw whirled around and pressed through the bramble tunnel, paws drumming along the ground as she ran from camp. She had the perfect plan - to fight and hunt and die for ShadowClan. To be a good warrior. It was so simple and direct, how dare Mothglow give Cinderpaw another choice? She didn't want that! She just wanted to be. It was all she could do. It was what she should do. For ShadowClan.