//Un//marked

// chapter 12 //

With her paw fully healed, Lightpaw threw herself into training. The day of her warrior assessment loomed and her fighting skills were beyond ready; hunting was proficient, almost excellent; jumping and climbing skills could use some work, but were passable.

Stealth was a whole other story.

"Got you again!" Rainpaw cried happily as Lightpaw felt her weight on her shoulders. The tortoiseshell flattened herself, catching the grey tabby off-guard. Rainpaw rolled forward into a pile of snow.

"How do you do that?" the pale she-cat hissed, angry with herself for getting caught.

Rainpaw shook the snow off her whiskers. "You're as loud as a badger. The snow doesn't help, of course, I could hear you from treelengths away."

Lightpaw flicked an ear. The snow crunched, the leaves crackled, and the low-hanging branches swished. How on earth was she supposed to be silent?

"I think that's enough for the day," the tortoiseshell decided, getting to her paws. "Flamestrike told me to be back for patrol by sundown." She turned in the direction of High Rocks, Rainpaw trotting after her – very quietly, much to Lightpaw's dismay.

The business of camp masked their arrival and Lightpaw slunk off to the healer's den before anyone noticed her. Rainpaw, of course, joined Stormpaw and the other apprentices by their den. Watching her go, Lightpaw's eyes met Beetlepaw's briefly; the flash of triumph in the black she-cat's eyes caused her to turn away quickly.

"Reedpaw?" Lightpaw called as she stepped into the sweet-smelling den. She drew in a deep breath, enjoying the mixture of scents. With leaf-bare here, everything else smelled dead.

"Back here!" Reedpaw called from the depths of the den.

"I just need a place to rest for a second," Lightpaw began, padding over. "Training is taking the life – " She stopped abruptly as her eyes fell on Pigeonfang, who lay on her side in one of the healer's nests. Reedpaw's brown paws kneaded her stomach gently and the she-cat would growl deep in her throat every so often.

"Definitely two, perhaps three or four," the tom said. "It's too early to tell for sure, I think." Lightpaw could hear the trembling in his voice, the slightest shred of doubt.

"I hope it's not too painful when the time comes," Pigeonfang replied. "I already feel like I'm about to burst."

Reedpaw shook his head. "I'm afraid it won't be easy. You still have another moon to go, at least."

The grey and white she-cat groaned as she rose to her paws. "Thanks, Reedpaw." She cast the two of them one curious glance before heaving herself out the entrance.

Lightpaw and Reedpaw exchanged a look.

"Are you alright?" Lightpaw asked lightly as the tom turned to his medicine storage.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he replied. "I am the Clan's healer, after all." He dropped a pile of herbs before her, their sweet scents filling the air between them.

She looked at them with distaste. "I'm not actually sick, you know. I just don't want Flamestrike asking me questions about my training."

Reedpaw tilted his head. "That bad?"

Lightpaw nodded.

The brown tabby twitched his whiskers grimly. "If you do want to take those," he continued, "they will help with the stress and weariness."

She held his copper gaze, noticing the hopefulness that filled it. With a sigh, she dipped her head down, swallowing the herbs in one gulp. The happy satisfaction on Reedpaw's face was enough to make her forget their tang.