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Slacking off in his early moons of training meant Heronpaw was unfamiliar with the medicine cat den. He never paid attention to the lectures young apprentices received about anything other than future warrior duties, so the exact nature of medicine cats - other than healing, and regularly communing with StarClan - was lost to him. As well, he'd avoided most youthful mistakes by simply not doing the work, and so didn't share the common experience of sprained paws or thorn scratches that most young apprentices had. Thus, being in the medicine cat den twice in such a short time span was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. He didn't like how the scent of dried herbs nagged at his senses.

This time, he was told he would have to stay longer. The medicine cat had misjudged how bad his previous injury was, and now it was worse, aggravated by the last spar. It put a frown on Heronpaw's face that refused to leave, not that he thought anyone would notice. Other cats seemed accustomed to him frowning.

Judging by the faint amount of starlight trickling in through the burrow's entrance, Heronpaw knew it was late into the evening, perhaps even after moon-high, when he heard his name called out. He blinked sleep from his eyes, clearing them just enough until Coyotepaw's shaped formed, outlined by starlight. He sat up as best he could to greet the other apprentice, though winced at the pain in his back leg. He felt slow. Stiff. The poultice caked into his fur, meant to calm inflammation, wasn't helping.

"Good evening," he said softly. The den was empty of other patients, luckily. Maplefrost and Vulturepaw made their nests off to the side, away from where patients tended to rest. Still, Heronpaw kept his voice low. "Is everything alright? Do you need the medicine cat?" He hoped not. Coyotepaw had seemed fine after their spar, but, for good reason, Heronpaw hadn't been able to confirm that before they were separated.

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Coyotepaw's tone sliced through him more sharply than any blow dealt during training. Heronpaw's expression drooped. So many cats reacted harshly when they were unwell, reluctant to let others see when something was wrong. He wouldn't be surprised if Coyotepaw was the same. But here, in the safety of the medicine cat den, when it was just the two of them standing together, he would hope Coyotepaw would be more comfortable.

"I mean. I'm not injured, or sick."

"I'm glad." He was even more glad when, a moment later, Coyotepaw stepped further into the den. Heronpaw shifted in his nest as if to make room for the other apprentice, despite there being plenty of moss around them for Coyotepaw to rest in if he wanted.

"I came to say... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know," he said, speaking evenly to not startle Coyotepaw away. He seemed like a dried leaf on a branch, ready to snap and fall away at any moment. "I don't blame you. Thank you for apologizing, though." Sure, the lunge hurt. And Heronpaw hated to think that he was confined to this den for a few days, just to ensure he healed correctly. But it wasn't Coyotepaw's fault that he was untrained. "Did you go through a growth spurt recently? It seems like you're still learning your balance."

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Coyotepaw went so quickly from seeming sheepish to seeming annoyed that Heronpaw wondered if he often gave himself whiplash. They were so far apart in age, but he knew Coyotepaw was probably dealing with the swirl of emotions that young apprentices often had to balance. It was hard. Heronpaw had dealt with his by trying to be numb to and bored by everything. That was no way to live - though, he wasn't sure being angry at everything was better.

Later, he would try to share that insight with Coyotepaw. He didn't want to tread on the toes of his apology by turning it into a lecture. "Yeah. Still in it, I think. That obvious?"

It definitely was, both because of his awkwardness proportions - another sign of his age - and the way he threw his body weight around on the sparring grounds, like he was uncomfortable with it. "Even I'm still growing," he said. "I'm not surprised you are." For now, he was still larger than Coyotepaw - both taller and broader. But Heronpaw wasn't a broad cat to begin with, and he suspected that soon Coyotepaw would overtake him. "I can show you how to balance that, once they let me out of this den? It will make our future training sessions easier if you feel comfortable on your paws."

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"You still intend to train with me?" Curious about the confusion in Coyotepaw's voice, Heronpaw only nodded in response, letting the younger apprentice explain himself further. "I thought Brackenthorn would put an end to it." It wasn't much of an explanation, but it was enough for Heronpaw to put the pieces together. He nodded again before speaking.

"I was told I wouldn't have to train with you anymore," he said. "Not that I couldn't train with you." Both Brackenthorn and Swiftwind had come in to tell Heronpaw the same thing: that they would figure out something else for Coyotepaw's training, and he was no longer responsible for helping. He had the same response for both of them. He wanted to be responsible. "I intend to pick up where we left off when Maplefrost approves."

Except, he feared it would be a full moon before he was allowed to really train with Coyotepaw. It was nothing that would hinder his own training, he hoped, though Heronpaw had long since accepted he wouldn't be named alongside his brother and friends. Snowpaw was just a moon away from being named, and Swiftwind hadn't once mentioned Heronpaw's assessment yet. "I'll be allowed to return to very light duty in a few days. We could patrol together, and you could show me some stances? You'll have to accept only verbal corrections."