Dawn’s Light [c]

Dawnpaw maneuvered quietly through the trees. She was near the ThunderClan border for a reason- although Hawkuncle had said Twolegplace, Dawnpaw was determined to check every border as often as she could. She couldn’t stand it if she never saw him again. And there was as good a chance as any he was near the Fallen Oak.

With a leap, she landed on the oak in question, sinking sharp claws into its bark. No sign of Hawkuncle- but she’d wait a moment anyways. Maybe this was mouse-brained. After all, she was just an apprentice, and a ThunderClan patrol could come by and kick her back into her territory… but it wasn’t her territory, not truly. She wasn’t used to these confines. Why should she stop at the border? She wasn’t going to catch their prey, or anything. Stars above, why couldn’t they get along? She and Hawkuncle hadn’t had much trouble with the other rogues- did that make the Clans worse than rogues? No, no it didn’t… but she did want to see ThunderClan territory…

But she wouldn’t. Her paws stayed on the oak. She could see from here, couldn’t she? She wasn’t going to risk a bloody ear when she didn’t have to. Not with Beechaunt so sick. If only Hawkuncle could be here… or better yet, Smokema and Prima and Beechaunt could come to Hawkuncle’s place! Dawnpaw sighed and sat down, tail wrapping around her paws. Engrossed in her thoughts, she tuned out the world, not caring that she was technically on the border, and an overzealous ThunderClan cat might attack her.

Deputyship had thrown a wrench into Thrushnose’s planned excursions so far. In the wake of what Dovefrost and Minkstar had revealed, however, she had an excuse to wander along borders. Namely, the one they shared with SkyClan. To be honest, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if she did run into Robinloft’s killer. A murderer couldn’t be allowed to walk free—ThunderClan had paid the price for that kind of indecision before—but recklessness would lead to war, the kind everyone she loved would get swept up in. She couldn’t afford that. ThunderClan couldn’t afford that. They had to resolve this peacefully, or else SkyClan would destroy them through sheer numbers.

That didn’t stop Thrushnose from searching. Knowing, yet being powerless anyway, made her fur itch. At least this helped her feel as if she was doing something about it.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself, and poked her head through the trees. Normally, the Fallen Oak was abandoned save for patrol scents; today, a cream-colored she-cat sat atop the trunk, looking surprisingly vacant for someone with at least one paw over the border. Not the warrior who’d killed Robinloft… Not a warrior at all, actually. Thrushnose raised her head, jaws parting to taste the air. The stranger smelled mostly, mostly, of SkyClan. Maybe a new arrival or a recent departure. Curiosity more than anything brought her the rest of the way into the open, head tilted, striped tail held high as she approached the Fallen Oak. “Excuse me—do you realize you’re trespassing?” The words held no fire. After all, trespassing didn’t have to mean bloodshed if neither party wanted it.

If Dawnpaw had kept Hawkuncle’s advice in mind (always be alert), she wouldn’t have been startled. As it was, her fur fluffed almost comically as she leapt to her paws, glancing around in panic. A striped, brown molly was the culprit. Dawnpaw vaguely remembered her from the Gathering. She had seemed a commanding presence. Right now, however, she didn’t seem interested in chasing Dawnpaw off.

The cream-colored molly took a step back. “I’m sorry, really, just… not really used to borders yet- I didn’t mean to trespass!” Oh stars. How mouse-brained could she get? This wasn’t her territory. This wasn’t her territory. Suddenly, a scar on the she-cat’s shoulder caught her eye. Wait… which shoulder was it? She couldn’t remember, she’d always mixed up left and right. If the she-cat had been of the Asylum, the scar would neatly hide the mark. If it was even the right shoulder. Well, if she had been of the Asylum, she hadn’t been a Nightstriker. The Nightstrikers were the scary ones.

Curiosity forced her to speak. “I’m sorry… is that a Standard scar?” Stars, if she could only remember which shoulder it was. Rather belatedly, she realized that if the other she-cat was former Asylum, she probably wouldn’t appreciate it being brought up. Dawnpaw poised for flight into the trees, but lingering curiosity rooted her paws to the bark. She could get up in the trees before the she-cat could get onto the log, right?

“I’m Dawnpaw.” Maybe if this she-cat was former Asylum she’d know where Hawkuncle was. It did not occur to the golden lynx point that she wasn’t supposed to know about Standard scars and all that- she was too young. “What’s your name?” A last attempt at courtesy before she fled into the trees. After all, the striped molly seemed like she could take her out with one blow of her powerful paws, and Dawnpaw would really prefer to not bother Beechaunt.

The stranger stepped back, bristling in surprise, and Thrushnose promptly stopped in her tracks a fox-length short of the toppled oak. “No, it’s fine, I—” She broke off rather than keep stumbling, shaking her head. Stars, she hated borders sometimes. How was a cat supposed to learn anything when fight and flight were the default responses? Only getting to talk to the other Clans once a moon (at the noisiest place in the world, no less) wasn’t nearly enough. “I’m not going to chase you off,” she finally said. “As long as you’re not hunting here, there’s nothing to worry about.”

At some point during her explanation, the stranger’s eyes had caught on something. A…Standard scar? Thrushnose blinked. “Oh, that? It’s a dog scar.” Keeping one eye on the stranger just in case, she turned to let her see where the scar stretched broad and jagged across her back nearly to her other shoulder. A hint of pride warmed her voice as she leaned back. “I got it when I was an apprentice.”

Dawnpaw. A strange name for a SkyClanner to have, but Thrushnose didn’t question it; it wasn’t Briarthorn, so it didn’t matter. She opened her mouth to make her own introduction when what Dawnpaw had said clicked into place. Dawnpaw knew Asylum. She knew Asylum, though she looked too young to remember, and stars, Thrushnose didn’t want that to mean what she thought it did. Her expression sharpened, equal parts curiosity and suspicion. “Are you from Asylum, then?”

Even as she said it, she realized it didn’t add up; she’d never met an Asylum-born cat with a Clan name. Maybe Dawnpaw was like Stagleap, a straggler who’d joined the Clans. That didn’t ease her worries much—where had Dawnpaw learned that? Had Asylum re-formed after Eris’s death? Were they already back in the forest?—but Thrushnose let out a breath, forced her shoulders down. Bombarding Dawnpaw with questions would scare her off for sure. Besides, Dawnpaw smelled like SkyClan, and the SkyClan Thrushnose knew wanted nothing to do with Asylum. “Sorry,” she said after a moment, choosing her words like a cat picking their way across the Gorge. Her tail’s gentle swaying resumed. “It’s…been a while since I’ve heard that, is all. I’m Thrushnose, from ThunderClan. You said you weren’t used to borders yet, right? How long have you been training?”

The other she-cat didn’t look like she was about to attack, so Dawnpaw relaxed, sitting down and curling her tail around her paws. If it was fine, then why did they even have borders? Couldn’t they all just share prey… eergh… although she supposed there must be a good reason. The stranger sounded proud of her scar… Dawnpaw supposed that made sense… battling a dog sounded scary, and if she’d made it through she must be tough. The golden she-cat glanced at her paw, where the mark of teeth was visible through the fur. She’d never thought of it that way, just as a slight marring of her pelt. She liked this she-cat, Dawnpaw decided. She thought of things differently.

Asylum? Was she from Asylum? “Oh, no,” Dawnpaw assured the she-cat. “I’m Dawnpaw. Why would yo- oh. Hawkuncle taught me about the scar stuff. I couldn’t remember which shoulder it was,” she admitted, kneading her paws. “I’m pretty sure Scouts is… left? Standards right? I can’t really remember.”

“Nice to meet you, Thrushnose!” To be honest, her name almost had Dawnpaw giggling. If she had a thrush for a nose that’d be terrifying- although a beech with a face wasn’t much better. “I’ve been training for a while!” Dawnpaw continued, golden face lighting up. She was proud of how far she’d gotten. Even if she didn’t quite get the difference between warrior and apprentice, she did know she knew things. “Thank you for asking!” It was really kind of this cat Dawnpaw hardly knew to be asking about her training.