#fernfur

Brightpelt snarled, shoving his face uncomfortably close to Fernfur’s. “What do you mean Ravenleaf is going to be Fuzzypaw’s mentor now? Who’s been working to train him the past two moons despite everything!?”

Fernfur leaned back, face neutral despite the aggression being pointed his way. “You know why, Brightpelt. We need two medicine cats available so we aren’t left without a medicine cat again, and Fuzzypaw has shown an interest in herbs.”

Brightpelt snorted, lashing his tail. “Yeah, right. You think I didn’t notice that the other two apprentices in the Clan are conveniently yours and Borageb—Boragestar’s, but you think giving my apprentice away is fine?” He narrowed his eyes, leaning in again. “Besides, obviously Fuzzypaw’s going to want to help Ravenleaf; they’re brothers!”

Fernfur’s fur was ruffled, his tail swishing from side to side, but he still tried to maintain his calm, claws just barely sinking into the ground beneath him. “Just as you say you’ve been training Fuzzypaw for two moons, I’ve been training Shadepaw for four,” he replied smoothly, “and Boragestar’s worked with Lakepaw for three. And I don’t see those two miraculously gaining any interest in herbs.”

Brightpelt flattened his ears, a hiss bubbling at the back of his throat, but he lowered his head, eyes still smoldering. “Fine. I acknowledge your logic. But I’m not happy about this, Fernfur,” he threatened, growl rumbling along the edges of his voice.

Fernfur stepped over to him, laying a tail over his back and smoothing some of the spiked up fur. “You know I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary, Brightpelt. Besides, there are still two kits in the Clan; we’ll see if you can train one of them.”

Brightpelt nudged his tail off, stepping back, and muttered a “fine” under his breath before turning and stalking towards the warrior’s den. Fernfur watched him leave, sighing.