"No, absolutely not," Tiny stated firmly. They had a good life with their housefolk, and they didn't need anything more.

"Wait, Tiny." Rusty turned a pleading gaze onto his brother. "Let's hear them out."

Tiny sighed. If Rusty wanted to consider this, who was he to say no? "Fine," he relented. He looked at Bluestar. "Why ask us?"

The leader hesitated. "ThunderClan needs more warriors," she finally said.

He narrowed his eyes. Bluestar had hesitated a bit too long, as if she was crafting a lie. Or deciding whether to tell us the truth.

"So you just want us to fight for you," Tiny growled.

"No!"

Greypaw's outraged mew caused everyone to look at him in surprise, including Bluestar.

His eyes glowed with fury. "How dare you accuse Bluestar of such dishonor?"

Dishonor? So they have a moral code. Interesting. The more Tiny heard about these wildcats, the more intrigued he became. They seemed efficient and organized; something that he had never seen before.

The tabby apprentice continued. "Our Clan is like family. We take care of our own. Everyone is important, from the frailest elder to the youngest kit. It would go against the warrior code to recruit cats just to win a fight. It would mean that we don't have faith in our own abilities, our training passed down and perfected through generations of clan cats. Besides, no offense, if we were going to do that, we wouldn't pick two kittypets," he finished with a disdainful sniff.

Rusty had leaned forward, hanging on to Greypaw's every word. His eyes were wide, and they gleamed with wonder and curiosity. Lionheart was nodding, gazing at his apprentice with pride.

Tiny glanced at Bluestar. "It's not all fighting, is it?" He wasn't sure he was too keen on the idea of hurting other cats all the time. He had defended himself against rogues before, but he hadn't enjoyed it.

While Greypaw and Rusty chattered excitedly away, Bluestar sat down with Tiny.

"No, we only fight when necessary. But not every cat chooses the warrior lifestyle. Some become medicine cats, treating injuries and communing with our ancestors instead of hunting and fighting. Do you believe that may be where your heart lies?" She watched him closely.

"Oh, no, not at all. I quite enjoy hunting." He paused for a moment, and his voice quieted. "And I'd like to learn to fight, so I can keep my family safe." Tiny's heart throbbed painfully. He had lost those he cared about before, and he would hate to lose Rusty too.

Unknown to Tiny, Rusty had finished speaking to Greypaw, and heard what he had said.

"Does that mean you're coming with me?" he meowed excitedly.

Tiny forced a purr. "Of course. Where you go I go." He would leave me that easily?

"You have to be sure you want this," Lionheart meowed. "You must leave your kittypet life behind, and never return to it." A shadow crossed his face. "You cannot live with a paw in both worlds."

Rusty's energy seemed to fade, and he hesitated. Then, his gaze hardened with resolve. "I'm sure." He glanced at Tiny, a silent question in his eyes: What about you?

Tiny looked at Bluestar. "When do we leave?"

Bluestar stood. "I must confer with my senior warriors first. Meet Lionheart back here at sunhigh tomorrow." With that, she flicked her tail and the three warriors disappeared into the undergrowth.

Tiny and Rusty sat in silence for a few moments before Tiny finally spoke. "We really just agreed to join ThunderClan." He almost couldn't believe what had just happened. "Well," he sighed, standing up. "I suppose we should go." Rusty nodded, and the pair padded silently back home, each lost in their own thoughts.

~~~

Tiny kneaded his paws anxiously on the ground. They were in the forest at sunhigh, as agreed.

The night before, they had made sure to give their housefolk extra attention. Then, that morning, they said their goodbyes. It felt strange to leave his life behind. Like Tiny had shed his pelt and now stood, bare, under the trees. A new path stretched before him, and it was shrouded in shadow.

Is this the right choice? He watched Rusty, who was staring into the trees intently, his nose twitching as he scented the air.

"Maybe they're not even coming," Tiny grumbled.

"You have a lot to learn," Lionheart meowed, stepping out from behind a bush. A large white tom followed him, and while he looked intimidating, his eyes were kind.

"We've been waiting to see if you would notice our presence," Lionheart continued.

Rusty lashed his tail in frustration. "I could only smell your scent from yesterday," he admitted.

The white tom purred. "Soon, you will learn how to tell fresh scent from stale. Although I admire your effort." He caught Tiny's eye and dipped his head. "I'm Whitestorm. I presume you are Tiny?" The warrior's gaze flicked over his pelt.

Tiny flattened his ears and looked at his paws. He had always been insecure about his small stature, and it felt like Whitestorm was mocking him. "Yes," he muttered.

Whitestorm nodded, looking at Rusty. "Then you must be Rusty. It's nice to meet you both."

Lionheart twitched his ears impatiently. "Now that introductions are out of the way, let's go." He sprang into the bushes, swiftly disappearing amongst the shadows.

Whitestorm followed more slowly. "Try to keep up. Your new life begins now."

Tiny quickly sprang to his paws, trotting after the white warrior, Rusty on his heels. Before long, Whitestorm sped into a run, leaping over tree trunks and dodging bramble bushes with ease.

Tiny pushed himself harder, fighting to stretch his legs as far as they could go. He could hear Rusty behind him, and was comforted by the fact that he had not fallen behind.

He was beginning to get into a rhythm when a sudden pain shot through his paw. He stumbled, but forced himself to keep going. I can't stop, I have to prove myself. The pain worsened with every step, but Tiny pushed it away. How much longer do we have to run? He knew there was a medicine cat in ThunderClan; they would be able to help him.

Just when he was about to give in and stop, Lionheart came into view and Whitestorm slowed.

"They kept up." The golden warrior sounded surprised.

Rusty stepped forward, breathing hard. "Of course we did," he retorted. He glared at Lionheart, as if daring him to say something else.

But he just flicked his tail to beckon them forward. "Come look," he invited, pushing through the line of bushes in front of them.

Tiny crept forward past the bushes, being careful to keep weight off his injured paw, and let out a gasp.

Below him was a small ravine bustling with cats. Apprentices, including Greypaw, practiced complex looking battle moves. Older cats relaxed in pools of sunlight, while younger warriors brought them prey from an impressive pile of fresh-kill.

"This is our Clan," Lionheart murmured. "We care for and protect one another with our lives. Nothing is more important than your clan's wellbeing, and you must be loyal to it above all else. Anything less is betraying the warrior code." He looked at Tiny and Rusty. 'Do you understand?"

They nodded, and Lionheart backed out of the bushes.

"It's time for you to meet your clanmates."

They followed the two warriors down a pebbly slope and then through a gorse tunnel into the camp.

Tiny found himself to be extremely anxious as they stepped into the clearing. He felt exposed, especially as several of the cats in the clearing turned to look at them. He noticed the muscles under their fur, the scars flecked across their pelts. They could kill him right now if they wanted. The thought sparked fear in his chest, and he fought to keep his pelt smooth and his ears pricked. Tiny hoped they couldn't tell he was afraid.

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the High Rock for a Clan meeting!" Bluestar's call directed the Clan's attention away from the newcomers, and they quickly gathered at the base of the great rock that stood at the edge of the clearing.

Lionheart and Whitestorm led them to the front of the crowd of cats, and Tiny tried to avoid making eye contact, instead focusing his attention on Bluestar, who stood at the top of the rock. However, he could still feel the curious gazes of the Clan burning into his pelt.

"Cats of ThunderClan! As you know, we have lost many great warriors and our Clan is not as it once was. That does not mean our problem is lack of skill, as you are all the most talented and fierce warriors I have ever known." Bluestar paused, staring down at the assembled cats. "We simply do not have the numbers to defend ourselves. But I have found two cats willing to join our Clan. They are determined and I believe this is a step in the right direction to reclaiming our former glory!"

Her speech was met with silence, but after a few moments someone spoke up.

"Bluestar, these are kittypets! They don't have warrior blood. How do we know they won't leave once it gets hard?"

Greypaw immediately turned on the speaker; a lithe light brown tabby tom. "Darkstripe was a kittypet, but he's the greatest warrior I've ever seen!"

Tiny noticed a large silver-black tabby tom make his way towards Greypaw, his lips pulled back in a snarl. Greypaw was unaware of the tom as he continued arguing with his clanmate.

"But that's different!" the brown tabby protested. "He was a kit when he came here, so he doesn't know anything else. Not like those two, who may be tempted to return to their soft life."

Before Greypaw could respond, the dark tabby had reached them and slammed his paw into the side of Greypaw's head, pushing him down and pinning him to the ground. "Keep your mouth shut," he hissed.

"Darkstripe!" Bluestar meowed. "That's enough." She sounded angry, and Tiny shivered as he imagined being on the receiving end.

Darkstripe complied, stepping back and glaring at the apprentice. Greypaw glared back, but hurt glimmered deep in his yellow eyes. He turned away, padding over to sit beside a silver tabby she-cat, who licked his ears comfortingly.

"If you're quite finished, I'd like to conduct the apprentice ceremony to formally accept these cats into our Clan." Bluestar's voice was calm, all traces of anger gone.

Nobody argued with her this time, and she settled back down on the rock, curling her tail neatly over her paws.

"Rusty," she began.

Rusty looked up at her, stepping forward.

"From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you shall be known as Firepaw. Your mentor will be Longtail."

Tiny watched as a young silver warrior emerged from the crowd, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Longtail, you received excellent training from Goldenflower, and I know you're ready for an apprentice of your own. You have shown loyalty and compassion, and I expect you to pass on all you know to Firepaw."

Longtail approached Firepaw and bent down to touch his nose. He murmured a few words too quietly for Tiny to hear.

It's my turn, Tiny suddenly realized. He looked up at Bluestar, struggling to keep from shaking. He was nervous, what if he did something wrong? Who would his mentor be? Would they be kind? Would they hate him?

Bluestar's eyes glowed with warmth as she continued. "Tiny, from this moment until you receive your warrior name, you shall be known as Tinypaw. Your mentor will be Mousefur. Mousefur, you are ready for an apprentice. You have shown bravery and dedication, and I trust you will pass down all you know to your apprentice."

A small, light brown tabby walked towards him, and Tinypaw searched her gaze for any indication of what she was feeling. But her eyes betrayed nothing as she touched noses with him.

"Tinypaw, Firepaw! Tinypaw, Firepaw!"

As the Clan shouted their new names, Tinypaw pushed down a stab of disappointment. Why hadn't he gotten a new name? Now he would forever be reminded of that which he was most insecure about. To make matters worse, his new mentor was about his size too. What, they just lump all the small warriors together? Keep them out of the way because they're not as useful. Tiny was well aware that bigger cats won battles; no matter how hard he tried, he could never defeat his tormentors. Their size gave them an unbeatable advantage.

"Is it bad luck that my first apprentice is bleeding before I even take him out?"

Mousefur's voice startled him out of his thoughts. "What?"

"Your paw." The brown warrior nodded at it. "Come on, let's go see Spottedleaf." She padded past him, and he stood to follow her.

He had almost forgotten about the thorn in his paw. The pain was worse now, and he limped across camp, not bothering to hide it anymore.

Mousefur led him through a fern tunnel and into a sunlit clearing. The air was thick with the sharp smell of herbs, and Tinypaw wrinkled his nose.

At the edge of the clearing was a rock with a split down the middle, and Tinypaw could just barely make out a cat moving about inside. He assumed that the crack widened out to make a den inside the rock.

"Spottedleaf!" Mousefur called, and a moment later a delicate tortoiseshell she-cat padded out. Her nose twitched as she scented blood. "My apprentice has a thorn in his paw," Mousefur explained.

"Already?" Spottedleaf purred with amusement as Tinypaw flipped his paw around for her.

"I stepped on it on the way here," he muttered, his ears hot with embarrassment. Spottedleaf's breath warmed his paw pad as she searched for the thorn, and after a moment, she ripped it out. Tinypaw hissed with pain, but it quickly faded.

"Lick it clean," Spottedleaf instructed. "I'll get something to keep it from getting infected."

Tinypaw swept his tongue swiftly over the wound. Infected? He wondered what would happen if he got sick out here, would Spottedleaf be able to help him? He knew that when he was with his housefolk, they'd take him to the vet when he was sick. The vet could cure anything. Could Spottedleaf do the same? As she came back with a bundle of leaves and began to chew them up, he realized that no, she could not.

I could die very easily if I'm not careful.

Tinypaw murmured a 'thank you' as the medicine cat smeared the poultice on his paw.

"Now that that's taken care of, we need to do something about your collar. You can't wear it if you're going to be a warrior. Stand still." Mousefur unsheathed her claws, and with a quick movement sliced Tinypaw's collar cleanly off.

The black tom stared at it, broken, on the ground. He felt a thrill of fear and excitement.

There's no going back now.