Blank Slate

CHAPTER ONE

As the sun rose and spread light over NettleClan's camp, Slatepaw was stretching and waking up.

Exhaustion swamped his limbs and the tom yawned. Snapping his jaws closed, he looked around the den, and his bleary eyes landed on his friend Cinderpaw. Slatepaw stretched again, tail flicking a bit behind him.

Cinderpaw looked up, his green eyes instantly bright. He rose to his paws and, after a quick stretch, padded over to Slatepaw, who waved his tail in hello.

Slatepaw watched as Cinderpaw turned to exit the den, and he followed with a little flick of his tail.

"I'm tired," mentioned the wiry-furred, pale gray tom, appearing somewhat distracted as he gazed past his friend. His yellow gaze glittered in the warm sunlight.

Cinderpaw turned to tilt his head at Slatepaw, concern accompanying the light from the sun in his eyes as he spoke, "You definitely got enough sleep. Do you need some poppy seeds from Rushshade?"

Slatepaw glanced around the camp for a moment, his eyes shadowing within moments of his friend's last spoken words. The camp was mostly empty, despite the warmth that filled it.

No, it wasn't empty - there was a group of cats at the entrance who were getting ready for patrol, Slatepaw realized with a twitch of his ear. The dark brown tabby fur of Duskscar was easy to spot against the light gray pelt of Olivestem. Moments after, the apprentice caught the familiar smell of Hollowshade, and soon spotted the black tabby's pelt among the others.

He shuffled his paws, glancing at Cinderpaw, who still had his head tilted curiously. He was studying Slatepaw with an inquisitive glimmer in his gaze.

After watching Duskscar stroll confidently out of camp - and be followed by a rather slow Hollowshade and a hurried Olivestem - Slatepaw turned back to his friend. He shook his head rather absently - perhaps in reply to the other apprentice's question. The wiry-furred tom looked back into the den, seeing some faint shapes inside that slept calmly among the nests, despite the sunlight that bathed the den. It peeked through the branches, inched in through the entrance, yet the shapes did not move.

"Would you like to train with me at the rock?" he murmured a little cautiously, glancing around once more. Now nobody was really in the camp. At least, not out of their dens yet. The phrase he'd spoken meant much more than it seemed, though.

It wasn't a simple query, nor a question that any apprentice would ask. Well, technically, yes. It was a normal question, however its meaning was not easily noticeable to the usual eye.

It was the secret phrase. Not a secret phrase. The secret phrase.

"Uh, if you want... sure," Cinderpaw had since stopped tilting his head and he gave a little shrug, followed by a slight smile.

Confusion engulfed Slatepaw. He knew that wasn't the correct response. Cinderpaw wasn't supposed to say that... None of that 'Uh, sure' was supposed to be the answer. Cinderpaw was supposed to say 'The forest seems smarter', not 'If you want... I guess so..' None of that bumbling mouse-dung.

Is he just trying to confuse me? Because if he is, it's working.

Irritation swarmed him for a few seconds, though once more confusion replaced it, as quick as a flash flood, rising from his paws to his chest to his head and submerging him.

He studied the other apprentice for a moment, gaze traveling over his friend's somewhat confused expression and the little smile that was printed and pasted delicately on his muzzle.

His ear twitched for a moment but he decided to worry about it later. Cinderpaw probably just forgot.

The apprentice trotted farther into the camp, gazing around. He yawned a bit before snapping his jaws closed and he turned slightly to see Cinderpaw stumbling a bit as he followed. The other apprentice seemed to have tripped over something. The wiry-furred tom licked his lips, tail flicking a little bit behind him. He waited for a moment longer before speaking once more.

"Come on," huffed Slatepaw impatiently, stomping his paw a little on the ground. A tiny cloud of dust rose from it, swirling lightly around the tom's paw, before settling once more.

Cinderpaw quickly scampered after his friend and Slatepaw nodded, almost to himself. The pale gray tom yawned again and Cinderpaw's warm brown pelt seemed to rise, perhaps in irritation, before falling and laying flat.

"Do you want to go get something to eat?" asked Cinderpaw.

Slatepaw nodded once more and swept off, leaving a little cloud of dust in his wake. Cinderpaw quickly scampered after him and they made their way to the fresh-kill pile.

It wasn't very full, and the things that were left weren't fresh. It was clear that they were from the previous night.

No wonder that patrol went out earlier.

Slatepaw scouted the pile swiftly and chose a mouse that looked a little bit nicer than the rest of the prey.

Cinderpaw motioned to the tom for them to sit down together near the pile where they could eat, and so he skirted to sit down.

Slatepaw curled his tail around himself, settling down comfortably as he laid down the mouse in front of them both. He glanced around the sun-bathed camp, studying the leaf-fall morning.

So far it wasn't too hot. The sun made it pleasant and warm, despite the rather chilly winds that bit at the cats' paws during the night. It surprised Slatepaw that it was this nice; recently, it had been like real leaf-fall, with chilly winds at night and chilly winds during the day. However, the past quarter moon had warm-ish days and colder nights.

The tom directed his gaze at the sky, which was a pale blue. A few clouds drifted across the sky, flitting around the sun and even occasionally blocking its light.

"I said, are you done eating?" Cinderpaw asked, nudging Slatepaw, and motioning with his tail at the mouse that had a little bit of meat left on it.

"Oh- no, sorry," he answered, and with a few swift bites, he finished off the mouse.

Slatepaw stood up and stretched, tail flicking slightly behind him. He licked his lips, enjoying the pleasant fullness in his belly.

"Want to head out for training soon?" Cinderpaw questioned.

"Maybe," replied Slatepaw.

Out of the corner of his eye, the apprentice spotted a pale gray-and-white she-cat.

Peonystrike.

After a moment, the she-cat trotted up to them. Her copper eyes gleamed and her tail lashed behind her. With a swift movement of her paw, she swept away the remains of the mouse.

"Maybe? Come on, let's go get something done!"

Written by Lamb :) Despite not having too much information since it's the first chapter, who do you like better so far: Cinderpaw or Slatepaw?