After another day of running errands for the Clinic, plus practicing his swimming (with a spotter this time), plus training with a few different sparring partners, plus gathering mushrooms yet again, Firepaw comes home and flops dramatically into his little nest of blankets. Instead of curling up, he just lays on his side, like a fluffy rug.

He's exhausted, his vision is swimming, and yet he can't sleep. And worst of all, the relative quiet of the canopy is giving his mind plenty of space to run. Space to think about home, how much he misses his old cat friends, how different he feels from all of his new friends, and... the sheer horror of his experience in the southern forest. He can still vividly remember walking through the ThunderClan camp, with the ground coated in blood and the sounds of cats in pain ringing in his ears. He can still see the hollow look in the eyes of Tigerclaw, who stood alone and blood-soaked on top of the Highrock, the tall boulder where only their leader was allowed to sit. It wasn't real, he had no reason to believe Tigerclaw would do anything like that... but it still clings to his mind.

He might stay in the canopy, looking despondent and troubled, or he might get up to take a walk. Either way, he could really use someone checking in on him. And this will likely happen a few times during the month, as he struggles to shake the gloom that's come over him.