Duskelle gasped awake abruptly, heart thudding. She'd tripped over a root and tumbled into darkness...

"Duskpaw?" came a feminine, lilting voice, and she realized that she was back in her native form. It felt both comfortable and restricting, different and not, all at the same time.

"Duskpaw," came the voice again, and she finally looked up to see Lilacfeather watching her from the den entrance, light outlining her figure. Morning had arrived. "Are you alright?"

"I am..." Duskelle trailed off as she struggled to push herself to her feet. She winced at the stabbing of pain in her ankle, and braced herself against the wall.

"Duskpaw, you'll hurt yourself," Lilacfeather spoke, rushing to support her. Duskelle allowed her to help her stand and support her as she limped to the other end of the den, where she could  sit.

Lilacfeather finally eased Duskelle down, and sat besides her, curling her tail over her paws. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm mostly alright," she responded. "Except for this leg."

"That should heal soon, by my calculations," the medicine cat responded. "I had one of the warriors versed in these things take a look at it too — I'm not too sure about Twoleg bodies."

"Mm..." Suddenly, a thought struck Duskelle. "Lilacfeather? Isn't the medicine cat supposed to be connected to StarClan?"

"Yes," Lilacfeather said, turning her pale blue-gray eyes onto Duskelle. Her exquisite features twitched. "That is true."

"I've visited StarClan in my dreams," she told her. "Twice now."

The she-cat's face morphed in surprise. "Really? You?"

"Yes."

"That's odd...no one other than a Clan cat has ever spoken with StarClan, nevertheless a Twoleg." She paused abruptly and slowly continued, her nose twitching. "Except for a single notable exception. But he is...different. The medicine cat is the path in between RiverClan and StarClan, the one for whom both ways are always open."

"Always open?" Duskelle asked, leaning forward curiously. "So you're saying you can visit StarClan whenever you wish?"

"Not always, but if I wish to speak with my ancestors, they are often able to sense it. I also visit the Moonstone every half-moon, as every medicine cat does — it is a holy place, where the pawsteps of our ancestors are worn into the ancient rock," Lilacfeather said, her tail swishing. "But you — why were you there? Who talked to you?"

"Hawkripple," Duskelle said, and Lilacfeather suddenly seemed as if she understood, as if the answer were now obvious. Her eyes softened.

"To thank you?" she asked.

Duskelle nodded. "And the second time — he told me that he would be a second mentor for me, because StarClan has declared I need more training...he turned me into a cat, Lilacfeather."

Lilacfeather must've heard the wonder and longing plainly in her tone. "That must've been wonderful," she said gently, and then continued in a more normal tone. "That would make sense, yes...StarClan is behaving in odd ways, for you are an odd situation, Duskpaw..."

The medicine cat sat back and scrutinized her. "Perhaps our ancestors have more power than I gave them credit for. Power that might extend past their hunting grounds..."

"More power?" Duskelle said, staring deep into Lilacfeather's eyes, which seemed to go on and on forever, in shifting planes of pale violet-hued blue.

"Yes," came the reply. "Perhaps enough power to-" She cut herself off suddenly, and then shook her head. "No. Not now, at least. You won't be well enough to train for a few days, at least." Lilacfeather rose to her paws in a fluid motion.

Duskelle nodded amiably - she couldn't protest, she knew that what Lilacfeather said was true. She could barely walk, after all. But power, she'd said. Power that could accomplish what? The thought was exhilarating, and she could hardly bear to think of it.

The medicine cat turned to go towards her side of the den, but a thought had struck Duskelle.

"Lilacfeather!"

"What is it?" She half-turned inquisitively.

"What could I do? While I wait for my ankle to heal?"

"Hm." The she-cat turned all the way around. "I'd tell you to talk to Stormpaw, but he woke up earlier in pain so I had him take a few poppy seeds...he'll be out for who knows how long, that tom is almost as bad as Seapaw with poppy seeds."

Duskelle glanced back at Stormpaw, who as ever, was motionless.

Lilacfeather looked thoughtful, as if she were running ideas through her head. "Seapaw and Brookpaw are off somewhere with their mentors...Mosspaw came to me earlier asking about, well, moss. He's probably done something and being forced to reline the dens again..."

Duskelle chuckled slightly. Of course he had.

"What do you think about helping me?" Lilacfeather asked, tilting her head. "I can't guarantee that it'll be fun, but I do have some warriors help me out here and there — if you'd ever like to be one of them, it'd be useful."

"Sure." She didn't have anything better to do anyways.

The medicine cat glanced outside. "Someone will be along shortly, it's about time the first hunting patrols come back."

Even as she spoke, Duskelle heard the sound of voices streaming through the air as warriors splashed through the den entrance. She leaned down to look out through the den just in time to see them drop the fresh prey in their jaws, restocking the pile.

"Come, you can sit here," Lilacfeather spoke, beckoning with her tail. Duskelle limped in her direction, and the she-cat tilted her head patiently as she waited. She finally came to a stop near the neat bundles of herbs, which she'd first observed when she'd come with Seapaw at the time of her injury. It was mind-boggling to her that that had happened only a few days ago. It seemed as if so many events had occurred that there was no way it'd been so short a time.

Duskelle had just eased down into a comfortable position when a she-cat appeared in the den entrance.

"Lilacfeather!" she called, and Lilacfeather turned, eyes lighting up.

She was the smallest warrior Duskelle had seen yet, and her eyes sparkled even through their dull green color. Her fur grew close to her skin. She'd heard her voice before...she knew this cat from somewhere.

"Faye," Lyren spoke. It was a strange name. Perhaps she was not born of RiverClan. "Your turn for herbs, eh?"

"Yep." She dipped her head down towards the collection of green leaves at her paws. "Surprise today - found some burnet. Dapplerush spotted a bush right by the WindClan border."

Lilacfeather frowned disapprovingly. "She didn't get too close to the other side, did she? She never seems to learn, she's already caused four skirmishes in the past two seasons."

Faye shrugged nonchalantly. "It was pretty well over the border. Don't think they'd call us out for that."

Lilacfeather's expression didn't change, and she had no response except to step forwards and scrape the leaves towards her with a cursory paw.

Faye's gaze ranged to Duskelle. "Ah, Duskpaw! How are you feeling? You looked pretty terrible last I saw of you, not going to lie."

Duskelle strained, but she couldn't remember who the she-cat was. The memories danced at the fringes of her mind, jumping out of reach when she tried to reach out and grasp them. "Last you saw of me...?"

Faye shook her head ruefully, and flicked her tail. "Ah, well, suppose you saw me only for a few seconds. I was there last night, with Graysplash. We'd come in because I'd fallen and gotten my paw gashed open." She stuck out one of her legs, and Duskelle noted the poultice of leaves and herbs that wrapped around her paw.

She remembered now — she remembered the fast-talking, small, brown she-cat who'd limped into the den before Graysplash, talking of borders and ThunderClan.

"Faye — I remember you," she finally replied.

The warrior broke into a wide smile. "Yep! It's nice to finally actually meet you." She dipped her head in what seemed to be the traditional Clan cat greeting, and Duskelle returned the gesture.

"If you're finished chatting, come over and help me with this, Faye," Lilacfeather called, and Faye padded over, smiling amiably.

Lilacfeather crouched over a slab of rock, upon which she'd dropped the herbs. Duskelle hadn't realized Faye had brought quite so many, and involuntarily grimaced as she imagined the time it would take to sort them.

Faye noticed the look on her face, and smiled easily. "Boring, eh? Not so much when you're bleeding out, though. I'm afraid it's necessary."

Lilacfeather rasped her tongue over the pad of her paw. "Maybe you should go outside and look around, Duskpaw."

"Yeah...I think I will," Duskelle responded, and Faye beamed at her for seemingly no reason before turning back to Lilacfeather. She was odd.

Duskelle balanced herself awkwardly on three limbs and limped out towards the den entrance.

The sun was beating down strong onto the camp, and she squinted as she looked across the clearing, observing the others that roamed the camp. She could see Frostmist, talking quietly with a silver tabby tom besides the fresh-kill pile. Graysplash, and Sunspring were nowhere to be seen - they were probably out with Seapaw and Brookpaw, training.

Suddenly, she spotted a flash of white and gray emerging from the nursery, and recognized Mosspaw immediately, the dried version of his namesake hanging from his jaws. In a split second, he'd spotted her too, and she could see his light green eyes light up from as far away as he was. He began to bound over to her.

Mosspaw stopped when he'd reached her, and dropped the dry moss onto the ground, spitting out a last few strands with distaste before he turned to Duskelle. "Duskpaw! How are you?"

"I'm alright," she replied. "What about you? Lilacfeather said you'd landed yourself in some trouble."

He looked guilty momentarily. "I may've put a few thorns in Brookpaw's nest." But right away, his expression turned cheeky as he said, "But she of all cats deserved them. I don't regret it."

"Do you do things like that often, then?" she asked, leaning back against the den.

"Eh..." He trailed off. "Normally Stormpaw would talk some sense into me but Sunspring thinks that his absence is making me reckless."

"I think I'd agree," Duskelle responded.

Mosspaw grinned mischievously. "Myself, I'd use a better choice of words. Daring, maybe. Handsomely risk-taking."

She laughed out loud, and his smile only widened.

Both of them lapsed into silence, and stood, made content by the warm glow of the sun, until eventually Mosspaw spoke once again.

"Well, I'd love to neglect my duties and talk, but I've still got to go line the elder's den. Care to come with me? Maybe help me out?"

"The elder's den?" she asked, curious.

He frowned as if surprised she didn't know, and she sighed, already used to the gesture. "Of course. It's where the warriors who can't hunt or fight live. Usually it's because they're too old." He snorted. "In my opinion, they're far too pampered."

Duskelle grinned. "I don't think you'll think that when you become a elder, Mosspaw."

"That would only be expected of me, would it not? I'd hate to not meet your expectations. Come along, now."

He jumped to his paws, and padded along towards the camp entrance, and Duskelle followed, hobbling awkwardly along.

He'd brought a large pile of moss from the forests outside and deposited it besides the entrance. A smaller pile of feathers, seemingly from varied birds, lay next to it.

"How do you collect the feathers?" she asked curiously.

"We of RiverClan are apt at hunting birds and fish," he told her as he gathered together a pile of moss interspersed with feathers. "Stronger hind legs than ThunderClanners. They like to creep through the undergrowth more, favoring mice and shrew. Did you know, they name themselves after their prey? Ha!" He laughed out loud incredulously. "Being a warrior is such an honor - why would you mar it with the name of a rodent? I've met a cat named Mousegrouse, believe it or not."

"Mousegrouse?" she asked, stifling a snicker.

"Mousegrouse. Here, help me pick some of this up, will you? Oh - you can't really bend, can you? Here-" He closed his jaws around a clump of moss and reached his muzzle upwards.

She held her free paw under his muzzle, marveling at how soft the fur under his chin was, and he let the mixture drop into her pad. She fisted the paw that held the moss and balanced on it, wincing slightly.

"Alright! Let's go then, I'll lead you." He grasped more of the moss in his jaws, and sauntered off in the direction of yet another den. Duskelle followed after him, struggling to keep up.

They reached a large den with an entrance that yawned open, and as Duskelle stepped inside, she was surprised to see a large, wide hole cutting through the rock in the middle of the den's ceiling. She could make out the ends of the hole, weathered from the seasons of rain. Nests had been pushed to the sides of the den, just out of reach of the damp, exposed circle of ground still wet from the rain last night.

All of the den's inhabitants lounged at the back of the den where the rock stretched forwards the most, creating the largest piece of roof.

"Mosspaw!" came a deep female voice, and her attention snapped to the curled up forms in the nests. A she-cat, with a pelt of cream spotted an unusual tan, had risen, pale blue eyes bright and focused on the approaching apprentice.

Mosspaw's eyes twinkled as he padded forwards across the sun-filled den, and Duskelle followed. He spat out the mixture of moss and feathers and spoke. "Sleetwing! How are you?"

"I'd say as fine as ever, young'un, but not quite because you haven't been visiting us!" the she-cat exclaimed in response, half laughing.

"Yep," a tom spoke up. He was small and lithe, with pretty russet spots and wide green eyes. The fur on the end of his muzzle was lightening in color with age. "Been neglecting us, you have." He stretched luxuriously.

Mosspaw chuckled, and began to tuck the moss into the she-cat's nest. "What can I say, Russetpine? The duties of an apprentice are far and wide, and my cruel mentor leaves me no time to visit my beloved elders."

"Who's that you've brought with you?" asked another tom, a large one with tufty long fur colored varied shades of dark brown. He lay with his paws crossed, and Duskelle could practically feel the air of pride spreading outwards from him.

"Ah!" Moss exclaimed. "This is Duskpaw, the newest addition to RiverClan! She's been proclaimed an apprentice."

"This is the Twoleg?" said the tom, appraising her with a wrinkled nose. "Why, she's just a slip of a thing."

"Isn't Faye one of the smallest warriors in the Clan?" Russetpine asked. "And yet her words are bigger than the tallest oak in the forest! Size does not limit ability, my friend." He spoke his words with some passion, and it could be easily inferred that he'd been ridiculed for his size before -- he was one of the smallest cats she'd ever seen, and she realized abruptly that he looked very different from the other cats of the Clan. An outsider who'd joined the Clan, it seemed.

"Oh, stop with the lectures, Reed," Sleetwing said, speaking the name with the affection of an old nickname. "No one said that. Eaglestep is just surprised she's so small, that's all. He's used to seeing Twolegs being bigger, but she's not fully grown, is she? Not if she's an apprentice." 

Her gaze switched to Duskelle's eyes, and she dipped her head amiably. "I'm Sleetwing, former warrior of RiverClan."

Russetpine dipped his head after her, his brilliant green eyes latching onto her own intensely blue ones. "Russetpine, also former warrior of RiverClan."

All of them turned their heads towards the brown tom expectantly, and he sighed. "Must I?"

Sleetwing grinned. "You must, I'm afraid."

"Eaglestep, former deputy," the tom said unwillingly.

"Deputy?" Duskelle asked, leaning forwards. "How could you be former deputy and not leader?"

He held her gaze with steady yellow eyes. "I stepped down."

"Where's Jay?" Sleetwing asked abruptly before Duskelle could ask more questions.

"Jay! Get up!" Russetpine exclaimed, calling Duskelle's attention to a cream bundle curled up in a nest closer to the wall.

"Jay." Sleetwing padded over to the still form and reached out with a paw to nudge the sleeping tom's shoulder. "Jay!"

He jerked awake abruptly, curiously solid blue eyes wide open. "What?" His voice was oddly melodious.

"Mosspaw's here, and he's brought a friend. Go on, wake on up."

The tom blinked sleepily, and pushed himself to his paws, delicately and with care. Duskelle realized abruptly that he was young; young enough to be an apprentice barely turned warrior. What was he doing in the elder's den? She vaguely remembered Mosspaw's words...usually cats that were old. That meant there were exceptions, and it looked like she was about to meet one.

Suddenly, realization struck her - Jay! Graysplash and Icebreeze had talked about Jay, and how Lutes had taught him Twoleg words. Lutes and Jay.

Duskelle finally got a good look at the tom. He was handsome, with the oddest coat she'd ever seen — cream that darkened into gray on his muzzle, ears, and paws, but he held himself with a delicate care. She noticed that he was painfully thin, and she could see immediately his weakness, how his bones barely held up his weight, and she forced back the pity rising inside of her.

He must've seen it in her eyes anyhow, and his expression, curious as he'd observed her, hardened. "Hello. I'm Jay."

"Duskpaw," she replied, dipping her head in the cursory Clan custom.

He slowly returned the gesture. "I'm pleased to meet you." He turned his attention to the other apprentice. "How's your training going, Mosspaw?"

"S'alright," the young apprentice responded as he finished with Sleetwing's nest and continued onto that of Russetpine, who rolled out of the way. "You know how Sunspring is, always pushing. Sometimes I take the initiative. Because I care about my Clan. And I do things like this, like helping out with the elders' nests so that they're comfortable, and to repay them for all that they did RiverClan in their prime-"

Sleetwing snorted out loud and even Eaglestep attempted to stifle an amused smile. "Find someone else's ear to tweet in, Mosspaw. None of us here are buying it."

"What'd you this time?" Russetpine asked, a curious glint in his eye.

"Me? What would I ever do?"

They teased him, but he refused to relent, and she smiled along with them as they included her in their jokes and jabs. A feeling of contentedness seemed to start in her heart and spread out through her body, and it shone through the twist of her mouth.

Time passed. Moss finished with his work, but he didn't have any more dens to do and claimed he'd hide from Sunspring in the elder's den for the day. Duskelle agreed to provide him with her company when he asked. Eventually, the sun had started to dip low in the sky, and that was when Sunspring came.

He showed up abruptly in the entrance to the den. "Mosspaw!" he called in his gruff voice, and the apprentice blanched.

"Hey there, Sunspring!" he called unsurely. "How've you been?"

"No games, kiddo," the ginger tabby told him, green eyes narrowing. "It definitely couldn't have taken this long to line dens. I told you to come find me out by the pond once you were done."

"Ah, well," Mosspaw said, rising to his paws unwillingly. "The elders asked and I couldn't deny their request."

Sunspring glanced questioningly at the elders, all of whom attempted to stifle various expressions and stared back at him silently, as if they couldn't trust themselves to speak.

"Humph. Whatever happened, it doesn't matter any more. You, young tom, are coming with me. I want a while with you to go over your hunting skills."

The younger tom winced. "Again?"

"Yes, again, because you haven't improved in the slightest since last time. Come along, now." Sunspring disappeared, and Mosspaw headed towards the entrance, dragging his paws.

Duskelle pushed herself up carefully from where she'd taken a seat, and dipped her head to elders. "It was nice to meet you," she said, smiling. "Thank you for having me."

"Of course," Russetpine said, smiling back softly. "Come and visit us sometime. We enjoyed your company." 

Sleetwing made a noise of assent, Eaglestep nodded slightly, and Jay gave her a detached smile.

With that, she turned and headed out.