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Snappaw dropped the stick. “Finleap told me that moving sticks would make me strong.” He puffed out his chest. “I want to be the strongest apprentice in ThunderClan.”

Flypaw scowled. “Don’t get too strong or Bramblestar will make you clear every branch from the forest.”

Finleap blinked at her sympathetically. “You’ve worked hard all morning.” He caught Twigbranch’s eye. “Why don’t we teach them a few battle moves?”

Snappaw pricked his ears. “Really?”

“Please!” Flypaw bounced past the sticks and crouched excitedly. Sticking her hindquarters in the air, she bared her teeth and lashed her tail. “Look! I’m ready to attack.”

With a purr, Snappaw rushed to join her.

Exasperated, Twigbranch closed her eyes. At this rate, they’d never clear the training ground. What would Bramblestar think if she couldn’t even make her apprentice do the simplest of tasks? Would he regret making her a mentor so soon?

Fur brushed her cheek. Finleap was weaving around her. “We can finish clearing the rest of the sticks later,” he meowed. “There’s no harm in taking some time out to go over some battle skills.” He looked so eager that she didn’t want to disappoint him. But she hadn’t planned to teach battle skills today. She hadn’t practiced.

“I don’t know.” She frowned.

“What are you worried about?” Finleap blinked at her. “We’re mentors! We’re not breaking any rules by training our apprentices.”

Twigbranch lowered her voice. “What if I do it wrong?”

Finleap’s eyes widened. “How could you do anything wrong? You were an apprentice for the longest time. You must know everything there is to know about training.” Admiration shone clearly in his wide yellow eyes.

Twigbranch purred softly, feeling comforted. It was hard not to love Finleap. He was clumsy and tactless at times, but his heart was always in the right place.

Everyone expected they would be mates soon, especially Finleap. He hardly left her side, he purred at all her jokes, and he brought her prey from the fresh-kill pile every evening. She was lucky to have him.

And yet she wasn’t sure she was ready to become mates. She had not been a warrior for very long, and she had an apprentice who needed training. Lots of training!

More than anything, she wanted to prove she was worthy of ThunderClan. She had changed her mind so many times as an apprentice, leaving for SkyClan and returning again. She wanted ThunderClan to know she was loyal. And she was determined to earn the Clan’s respect. She didn’t have time to worry about a mate yet.

“Come on!” Finleap padded toward Snappaw and Flypaw. Snappaw had flattened his belly to the earth and was enthusiastically hissing at Flypaw. Flypaw lashed her tail and pretended to hiss back. Finleap stepped between them and beckoned them to their paws with a flick of his tail. “You won’t win any battles by making faces,” he purred.

“We weren’t making faces,” Snappaw mewed indignantly. “We were being fierce.”

“I’ve seen fiercer hedgehogs.” Twigbranch stepped over the scattered sticks and joined them.

Flypaw blinked at her eagerly. “What are you going to teach us?”

“Follow me.” Twigbranch led her apprentice away from Finleap and Snappaw. She didn’t want anyone watching her first attempt at battle training. Stopping at the edge of the clearing, she brushed away twigs with her paws. “Let’s see how you react to an ambush.”

Flypaw’s ears twitched nervously. “An ambush?”

“Walk along the edge of the clearing. I’m going to attack you from the side. Keep your balance. Don’t let me knock you off your paws.” It seemed to Twigbranch like an easy lesson. Why did Flypaw look so worried?

“Will you tell me when you’re about to attack?” the striped tabby asked.

Twigbranch blinked. “The whole point of an ambush is surprise.”

“But I’m still learning.”

“This is the best way to learn.” Twigbranch shifted her paws and hoped she was right. Before Flypaw could ask any more questions, she pushed through the bracken surrounding the small clearing and ducked behind the stems. She waited for Flypaw to start walking. But Flypaw was watching Finleap and Snappaw train. They tumbled over the sandy earth. Snappaw struggled free of his mentor and leaped clumsily to his paws. “Let me try again!”

“Flypaw!” Irritably, Twigbranch twitched her tail.

Flypaw snapped her gaze guiltily toward the bracken and began pacing along the edge of the clearing. Keeping low, Twigbranch shadowed her. She was pleased to see Flypaw’s ears pricked and her tail centered. The apprentice was clearly alert. Tensing, Twigbranch prepared to pounce. As she bunched her muscles, a bird gave a warning cry overhead. Flypaw looked up at it just as Twigbranch leaped. Twigbranch slammed into her. With a startled yelp, Flypaw lost her balance and rolled onto the ground.

Twigbranch leaped to her paws. “That was easier than tumbling a sparrow!” She glared down at Flypaw, not giving her a chance to answer. “You knew I was going to ambush you! Your legs should have been braced for the attack!”

“The bird distracted me!” Indignantly, Flypaw scrambled to her paws.

“You live in a forest! If you get distracted every time you hear a bird, you’re never going to learn how to fight, or hunt!” Twigbranch shook out her pelt crossly. Flypaw was so unfocused! How would she teach her anything? While Snappaw, Spotpaw, and the others were earning their warrior names, she’d still be trying to teach Flypaw how to stalk butterflies! I’ll look like the worst mentor ever.

“Let’s try it again,” Flypaw mewed. “I’ll be ready next time.”

“Try saying that to a ShadowClan patrol when they steal your prey.” Twigbranch pushed her way through the bracken once more and waited for Flypaw to start pacing. “Keep low, and push your weight through your paws as you walk,” she called through the stems.

Flypaw dropped her belly and padded awkwardly around the clearing. Twigbranch sighed. She looks like a duck. Shadowing her, she followed her apprentice for a few tail-lengths, then leaped. Exploding from the bracken, she slammed into Flypaw’s flank. Flypaw shrieked with surprise, threw her forepaws into the air, and twisted before losing her balance and thumping onto the earth.

Twigbranch stared at her. “That was the worst defensive move I’ve ever seen.”

Flypaw found her paws and shook the dust from her fur. Her eyes were round. “I didn’t expect you to hit me so hard.”

“I was ambushing you!” Twigbranch snapped. “This isn’t the nursery. You’re not play-fighting now.”

Flypaw glared at her. “You want me to fail,” she accused. “That’s why you’re making it so hard. How am I meant to know what to do if you just keep knocking me off my paws?”

Twigbranch pressed back her frustration and tried to remember what it had been like when she’d first started training. It seemed such a long time ago. “Okay.” Forcing her mew to be gentle, she looked at Flypaw. “Place your paws like this.” Reaching out, she adjusted each of Flypaw’s legs until the young tabby was standing square and firm. “Now sink down into your pads, as though you’re as heavy as a badger.” She watched as Flypaw flexed, finding strength in her stance. “This time, I won’t come out of the bracken. You’ll see me leap. Just try to keep your balance.”

Flypaw nodded, her eyes dark with concentration.