A/N I'm so sorry for the long wait. A few months ago I realized that I had no idea what I was doing with this story, so I had to brainstorm. The answer has come to me, people! In a vague and hazy cloud, maybe, but it is there, I assure you!

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors or the penname Erin Hunter which would, in fact, give me authority over the former. Also, if I were Erin Hunter, I would suck as an author. Logic ftw.

The proceeding moons did not quench the questions all of the cats of Thunderclan had for Silentpaw. Silentpaw, who did not seem to mind the pressing curiosity, didn't ever take any notice of it. It was almost routine to discover the little white she-cat eating with a perhaps not-so-comfortable Owlpaw at sunset, with warriors on every side, all of their gazes hard upon the she-cat.

Snatches of conversation would drift to Owlpaw's ears, and he twitched them unhappily.

"…from Starclan lately. Maybe she has the answers. That's why she…"

"…don't think it's a big deal. The apprentice surely sensed the rain that came later that day…"

"…just a coincidence…"

By far the worst rumor boring down on the swelteringly hot camp that moon was never spoken. It didn't need to be spread from tongue to tongue; everybody was thinking it- except for the kits, who were too young to understand. One thing was clear, or at least suspected: Silentpaw had known that tragedy would strike Thunderclan, and it had, in the fact that Windclan was now more hostile towards the clan than ever before. The worst rumor by far… why had she not stopped the tragedy from occurring? Led the group away, kept a close eye on Otterpaw, intervened in the battle between Volepaw and…?

Owlpaw wasn't a genius, he was an apprentice; he didn't know any more than the next cat what was special about Silentpaw. He had no idea if Silentpaw even knew what was special about her- every time the subject came up she would sigh and her shoulders would sag as if by some great weight. The white apprentice had chosen a good cat to be her friend, he didn't constantly need to know every answer right away, unlike his siblings and clan mates.

And that was another, if just as puzzling, topic. Why did Silentpaw attach herself to him? What was so special about Owlpaw? Compliments constantly tossed around by his siblings were things like arrogant, cynical, aloof, irritable… and the list went on. Still Silentpaw had never seemed reluctant in racing to Owlpaw's side and greeting him with a complementary blink of her crystal blue eyes, eyes that he still wasn't quite used to.

Too eerie.

"All I want is peace and quiet," Owlpaw groaned aloud.

Just a few paw steps in front of him Silentpaw turned to look at him, her bright eyes speculative. If she could talk, Owlpaw was pretty sure she'd be saying "me too, then maybe we could catch something around here to eat!"

This was just guesswork, though. Everybody thought that she said different things, depending on that cat's personality. It often led to arguments, but Silentpaw rarely seemed to mind. In Owlpaw's opinion, she seemed a bit like him, to-the-point, sarcastic, almost business-like, or at least if her ever-rolling eyes and swishing of her long tail were any indication. However to Volepaw she was apparently 'just trying to get through the day without catching any positive or negative attention', and to Otterpaw she was the typical she-cat, a little self-absorbed, obsessive, and bossy. In Owlpaw's opinion, out of these three contrasting personalities, he was quite certain she was most like the former.

Smirking a little, Owlpaw didn't speak again and the two apprentices hunted relatively well. Well enough to earn each of their mentor's approvals, at least.

"Well done, you two," Birchfall purred as the two apprentices slipped through the gorse tunnel into the stone hollow camp. Firestar, who was passing with a squirrel in his jaws, set down his food and blinked at the two appreciatively.

"I see our apprentices are shaping up well," his green eyes shone. "Silentpaw, get ready- tomorrow we'll be climbing trees, okay?"

Silentpaw bowed her head and then followed Owlpaw to the pile of fresh-kill to deposit their catch and eat some themselves.

***

"You can finish the rest if you want," Owlpaw sighed, leaving his half eaten chaffinch beside Silentpaw and heaving himself to his paws. She blinked her blue eyes after him as he turned away from her. He had gotten up early for the dawn patrol that day and Birchfall wanted to practice battle moves early the next morning. To be honest, Owlpaw hadn't properly slept since the incident with Windclan, and he rather fancied a frivolous dream involving warm sunshine and surplus voles and rich forest scents.

"What do you think you are doing?" came a sharp, familiar voice. Inwardly wincing, Owlpaw turned back slowly to face his sister. He had recently grown a bit taller than her, but her motherly moodiness still scared him more than all of Shadowclan, though he would rather die than admit it. "If you aren't going to finish your food, then give it to the elders or bury it!" Otterpaw's eyes flashed.

"I gave it to Silentpaw!" Owlpaw snapped. "You want to go tell her that the elders should eat it instead of her, be my guest."

Otterpaw's face fell slightly, the knives in her green eyes dulling like snow in Greenleaf sun. "Silentpaw?" she echoed, and for one wild moment, Owlpaw had the forbidding feeling that Otterpaw had no idea who he was talking about. His heart thumped as he thought back, wondering if he had said the wrong name on accident or was dreaming or something. Otterpaw was staring at him curiously, cautiously, with something frighteningly close to concern in her eyes. Then the confusion died as quickly as it had come and Otterpaw sighed in exasperation.

"Silentpaw went to bed a few moments again, mouse-brain," she sniffed. Owlpaw whipped around and saw that his prey was, indeed, sitting quite alone, waiting for flies to swarm in and devour it. That was strange, Silentpaw must have tried to catch his attention and tell him that she didn't want the rest but he hadn't noticed it. He also must not have noticed her slipping back into their den. Oh well, it wasn't that big of a deal.

"Well, it was her that left it there, then, not me!" he growled hotly, embarrassment heating up his ears uncomfortably.

"Fine, whatever," Otterpaw mewed. "I'm not your mother, you know, you should learn to clean up after yourself," although her tone was irked, she padded over to the half-eaten bird and began to eat the rest of it. He thought he heard her mutter something having to do with how messy toms were and she would rather live a life bearing no kits than fall in love with a slob like Owlpaw. Purring with amusement, Owlpaw pushed his way into the apprentices den at last.

He picked his way carefully around the sleeping bodies and collapsed at last between Silentpaw and Volepaw.

"Hey, Silentpaw, why didn't you take the chaffinch to Longtail if you didn't want it? Otterpaw nearly bit my tail off!" he whispered hotly. If Silentpaw heard him, she feigned sleep instead of replying (in a rather figurative sense of the word).

That night, Owlpaw did indeed dream of the heavenly forest of play. He was delighting in chasing a squirrel across a long stretch of unbroken ground, his mouth open, his nostrils flared. The squirrel remained just a hair in front of him, but he was gaining. In a split second he would be upon it. Without breaking pace, Owlpaw leapt and sank his claws on his kill. He yowled to the sky triumphantly and bent to take a bite when –

Suddenly, the sunshine faded to moonlight, the open forest transformed into a shadowy den, the chirping of life replaced by the quiet snoring of many young cats. Owlpaw sat up, disorientated and looked around sleepily. He was back in his den and- judging by the deep blue of his surroundings- had woken up far earlier than intended. Yawning, Owlpaw moved to settle back down for a few more hours of rest when he realized that Silentpaw's nest was empty.

Curious, he sniffed her bedding. Her scent was relatively fresh; she must have been what had woke him up, then. Wondering why Silentpaw had decided to evacuate the den in the middle of the night, Owlpaw rose to his paws and silently slipped out of the apprentices' den. He glanced around warily and saw Sandstorm sitting guard, her ears pricked dangerously. For a heartbeat, Owlpaw seriously considered just walking up to her and asking her if she had seen Silentpaw. However, something held him back. Assuming she had not seen the apprentice, Sandstorm would sound the alarm and everybody would be doubly angry with Silentpaw- it would be better if Owlpaw could find her quickly and bring her back himself.

Silent as the grave, Owlpaw slid across the camp, hugging the stone wall, to the tunnel that led to the dirt place. Silentpaw's scent was strong here, but stale enough to be sure she hadn't just gotten up to make dirt. With a quick glance to make sure Sandstorm hadn't spotted him, Owlpaw ducked through the tunnel.

On the other side, Silentpaw's scent was easy to trace; it led directly to the lake. That's odd, Owlpaw thought. Maybe she wants a drink of water?

An owl hooted nearby, unnerving the young tomcat, and he broke into a run, speeding up through the eerily silent night until he was cantering through the forest at top speed. As he neared the lake and Silentpaw, he slowed his pace so that he had gotten his breath back when he reached the edge of the trees. And there she was, sitting with her back towards him, bathed in moonlight.

Owlpaw padded nearer- for a split second, he reckoned he could see the lake shining through Silentpaw, as if her opacity had diminished. The young tabby blinked hard and she was fully visible again.

"Hey, Silentpaw, what are you doing out here so late?" he asked, coming beside the she-cat. She was so close to the lake that his paws were submerged in the water, foam licking his fur uncomfortably.

Silentpaw didn't reply, but looked at him with blue eyes so sad that the momentary urge to scream in agony washed over Owlpaw. He gasped and flinched, wanting to run away, but something held him in place. It hurts! It hurt his chest like a badger's bite. Was this how Silentpaw always felt, he wondered, basking in such terrible misery she would want to throw herself into the lake and just drown? He tried taking a step back but realized with a pang that his own paws had not obeyed him- he had stepped forward, not backwards. Closer to Silentpaw.

Silentpaw moved closer quickly and buried her muzzle in Owlpaw's neck fur, making him bristle in shock. However, her warmth was not unwelcome, and Owlpaw gradually calmed and pressed his head into her long fur. Something on her fur smelled so familiar and nice. For moons, or maybe just heartbeats, they stood close, taking comfort in each other.

Is this why she's closest to me? Owlpaw wondered suddenly.

He felt like the sun. He felt like the sun and she was his moon. Like a byzantine system, the two depended on each other. They connected.

A/N why is it that the more I write, the better (or so I think) I get, but the more 'Erin Hunter' writes, the crappier her work gets? I don't get it. The new serious sucks majorly, but the 1st serious was total win. Does anybody understand why? If so, please let me know!