Okay, I'm very sorry this was late, I had a little work to do in the art industry and I'm back now. This is how I roll unfortunately, I just bounce from project to project. It's pretty fun, but you get nothing done on time and life's a mess. I wrote this pretty late at night so I apologise for bad grammar/spelling mistakes.

That night, Ravenpaw dreamt of blood. He saw the longest claws in his life, stained with dark blood. Was this blood his? Surely not, he was clean of the red poison, his black fur blacker than ever. When Ravenpaw woke up, he tasted blood.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the rosy light, seeping into the barn, giving the world a dream-like haze. Barley was still asleep, he guessed loners don't get up at the same time as warriors. His tail twinged in pain as he leapt up, a little too quickly. Tigerclaw always wanted him to be prompt and alert. He never was prompt and alert.

Even in the barn, far from his mentor, Tigerclaw's amber eyes bored into him. Why are you not hunting yet Ravenpaw? Why are you still groggy, Ravenpaw? Don't eat before you have hunted, Ravenpaw! The black tom startled himself. He was safe here. It would be fine here. Barley looked plump as a kittypet so there must be good food here.

He couldn't help think of Firepaw and Greypaw. They couldn't be warriors yet, that's impossible. But he couldn't help think about Firepaw. The way his ginger pelt turned to flame in light, the way his green eyes sparkled when he had a usually stupid idea, the way his tail curled around him, just touching his nose so he sneezed. Firepaw.

Ravenpaw was so lost in his thoughts, that the dawn haze had cleared and Barley was awake and putting in new moss for his nest. Ravenpaw felt so awkward here, so strange. Like a duck with swans. He was so used to the Clan's ways, he didn't know how to care for himself, to try to not please others. What would Dustpaw say about him? His cowardice?

Barley poked him softly with his tail, "Hey, sleepy, do you want to go eat?". Barley's soft voice was already homely, it calmed him and brought him back to the here and now. Ravenpaw smiled, the barn was more welcoming and alive with one cat than the Clan, with about eight billion. "Sure."

Ravenpaw caught his first mouse in seconds. It was fat and big, probably the best mouse he'd ever caught. Barley laughed when he caught it. Barley laughed loudly, and so happily, you couldn't help but join in. For once in his miserable life, Ravenpaw had a friend. Ravenpaw had hope.

Ravenpaw explored the barn that day. It was pretty big, bigger than camp. He found a pigeon nest in the rafters, just too high to catch. He brought a bunch of the feathers for his nest, arranging them so they surrounded the soft moss, giving him a border around the hollow. In the Clan, he could never do this. Decoration wasn't necessary, so it was looked down upon. One time, he put a feather behind his ear for fun. You can imagine how well that went down with Tigerclaw.

Ravenpaw clambered up a pile of wood, probably for twoleg fires up into the rafters. He leapt from beam to beam like it was a tree... except no screeching mentor and no pressure. He enjoyed the rush of jumping about like a kit, it sent adrenaline through his veins, pumping as fast as a bird flew. He found the feather pile again and, just to spite Tigerclaw a little, stuck the longest, prettiest feathers behind his ear.

Barley didn't yell at him to stop ever, he just smiled and watched him mess about. Ravenpaw had never felt better, soaring like a bird from those beams. Smiling so wide it hurt and yet he couldn't stop, he never messed up. The barn didn't feel like Barley's barn anymore. It felt like home.

Ravenpaw finally came down when the sun was setting. Barley had already gotten food. Still buzzing, Ravenpaw sat down to eat reluctantly. Loner life was difficult to get used to but it sure as hell was fun. He was free. Free from order and rules and regulations and everything he cowered in fright of. He had free run of territory, good food, he had a warm place to stay, he had Barley.

Barley. Ravenpaw stared at the black and white cat. Maybe a little older than him, two moons at the most? He was mostly white, with dark grey-black patches dotted around his pelt. His light yellow eyes glittered in the low sunlight. Ravenpaw suddenly flushed red, realising that he'd stared a little too long at him. Barley looked at him, the traces of faint red on his cheeks too.

Ravenpaw got up quick, a little awkwardly and walked over to his nest. After clearing his moss and getting new moss, he curled up in his nest, his tail wound around him tightly. He shut his eyes, ready for whatever nightmares Starclan could throw at him. He had Barley now to help him through this.