Cinderkit and Emberkit scrambled out of the nursery, tumbling over each other's paws and tails. Cinderkit tripped and was flung face-first into a bunch of cold white stuff. She and her littermate squealed and ran back into their den. "Copperfoot!" she shrieked. 

Copperfoot, her mother, opened her eyes lazily. "Yes, Cinderkit?"

Cinderkit opened her mouth, but Emberkit interrupted her. "There's all this freezing white stuff out there! I don't like it!" He sat down with a huff.

Copperfoot chuckled, standing up and shaking her pelt. "That's snow, darlings. Don't worry," she added after nuzzling them both on top of their heads, "it won't bite." 

The two kits scrambled back into the snow, Copperfoot following closely behind them. She nodded a greeting to Cherryfrost. Her mate, Foxheart, had collapsed inside the nursery after a long night of watch and fallen asleep right then and there. Copperfoot smiled softly to herself, wishing she and Darkhawk could be like that.

Cinderkit noticed her mother tense up as she exited the nursery. She flicked her ears, wondering why Copperfoot's spine fur had stuck up. She looked in the direction her mother was looking and saw Darkhawk -- her father!

Forgetting about Copperfoot, she blundered over to the smokey black tom, kicking snow all over Emberkit as she passed him. "Darkhawk!" she squealed, colliding into him and knocking his legs out of under him.

Darkhawk chuckled deeply as he stood, shaking his long gray fur. His yellow eyes gleamed with humor as he cuffed his daughter gently on the ear. "Hello, Cinder--"

He was cut off as Emberkit threw himself onto his father. "Gotcha!" 

Cinderkit joined the tussle, pouncing on Darkhawk. "Help,"Darkhawk called playfully, "I'm being mauled by vicious tigers!"

"We're no tigers," Emberkit indignantly, chewing on Darkhawk's tail. "We're ShadowClan warriors!"

"Yeah," Cinderkit agreed batting Darkhawk's ears. "Now leave, ThunderClan dung, or we'll eat up!" She pulled her lips back to show her tiny, gleaming teeth. "Rrr!"

"Never," Darkhawk snarled in mock savagery. Then he sat up, shaking them off easily. "Now, Cinder, Ember," he meowed, calling them by their prefixes, like he often did, "let's have a look at my two little warriors." He examined them closely, scanning them both up and down. They were ruffled and covered in snow, but lively as ever. "You've both grown so much," he muttered almost to himself.

Emberkit shook out his soft kitten fur. "Of course we've grown! You haven't come by the nursery in moons," he complained loudly.

"You've only been alive for two moons," their father responded.

"Why don't you come around more often?" Cinderkit wondered aloud.

Now Darkhawk hesitated. He didn't want to answer; he wanted to spare them. But how could he not? He looked into their big, innocent eyes. Ember's were a mixture of blue and amber; as he grew the blue would fade and he'd be left with a deep, intelligent amber. Cinder's were also transitioning still, but hers looked more like they'd end up yellow, like his.

"Cinderkit! Emberkit!" hissed Copperfoot. "Come back now, please." Cinderkit thought she sounded angry. But why? she thought. They had only been playing.

Emberkit obeyed in an instant, rushing over energetically. Cinderkit, though, lingered. She hardly ever got to see Darkhawk, let alone play with him. Copperfoot always called them away . . . She sighed, about to comply, when a big, bushy tail wrapped around her and pulled her close.

"She wants to be with me," Darkhawk growled. Cinderkit looked up at him in wonder. He was always so gentle, but now . . . he sounded hostile towards Copperfoot. Copperfoot's eyes reflected the anger in Darkhawk's voice. 

Cinderkit looked from one to the other. There was a wordless conversation passing between them. Darkhawk seemed to be challenging Copperfoot to argue; Copperfoot seemed to be refraining from tearing his pelt off. With a huff, she led Emberkit back into the nursery. The littermates gave each other agonized looks as they were separated.

Darkhawk stared after her for a moment, looking ruffled, but he soon looked back to his daughter and smiled. "Now, where would you like to go? Out in the forest?"

Cinderkit's eyes widened. "But I'm not an apprentice yet!" she exclaimed. "Not until moonhigh."

"Ah," Darkhawk replied, feigning sadness. "I suppose you're right." Then his eyes brightened mischievously. "But do you know what I am?"

Cinderkit tilted her head to the side. "What?"

"A senior warrior!" he responded, cuffing her ear. "Now: stay in the boring old camp all day . . . or go out an see the forest?"

"The forest! The forest!" she yowled.

"Alright, alright, keep it down," Darkhawk chuckled. "You don't want us to get caught now, do you?" Cinderkit shook her head in response. Her father continued, "Alright now, we can't go far, understood?" She nodded again. "Then let's go." He padded towards the camp exit, Cinderkit hot on his heels.

They didn't go far, but Cinderkit chattered the whole way. 

"What's that, Darkhawk?" 

"What's that smell?" 

"Are we being invaded?" 

"Will you teach me to hunt?" 

"Ooh! A snake! Oh, no, that's just a twig."

As they were returning to camp, Cinderkit grew suddenly serious. "Darkhawk?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes, dear?"

"What happened between you and Copperfoot?" she queried. "I mean . . . you used to visit us daily. But now . . . but now you're almost never around. I mean, we're almost apprentices now." Her father was silent for a long time. "Darkhawk?"

He sighed, visibly distressed. "Oh, Cinderkit . . . you don't deserve this." Although, he addressed her, he seemed to be speaking more to himself than to Cinderkit. "Copperfoot and I . . . we don't . . ." he seemed to be rolling each word over in his mouth before letting it out. "We don't always see eye-to-eye on things. That's all."

Cinderkit got the distinct feeling that that wasn't all. She couldn't quit thinking about how angry Copper foot had seem just by the idea that Darkhawk wanted to spend time with his kits. Surely, that was a good thing, wasn't it? Cinderkit grew frustrated with them both - didn't they love eath other? Couldn't they work these things out? 

Before she could ask, though, she saw Emberkit and forgot all about her questions. "Emberkit!" she squealed, darting over to tussle with him.

The sun had set on the Clans, and the three-quarter moon hung high in the sky, its pale light turning the cats' fur to silver. Dawnstar's commanding voice rang out in the cold night air: "Cinderkit, step forward." The gray kitten obeyed. "You have reached the age of six moons, and according to the traditions of our ancestors, it's time for you to be apprenticed."

Cinderkit shivered. I can't believe I'm finally becoming an apprentice . . . she thought.

The brown she-cat continued, "From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Cinderpaw, and your mentor will be Cloverdapple." She turned her attention to Cloverdapple. "Cloverdapple, you have served your ShadowClan well, and I believe it's time you had your first apprentice."

Cinderpaw's heart pumped faster as Cloverdapple approached her. Emberpaw had already gotten his mentor, Lionstep. She sought him out in the crowd. He gave her an encouraging  nod, but anxiety still clawed at her stomach.

As Cloverdapple leaned forward to, she whispered, "Don't worry, I'll be a good mentor, and you'll be a good apprentice." 

"I hope you're right," Cinderpaw murmured. And then they touched noses.