Brightheart's Rift
Brightheart glanced up curiously as the patrol padded into the clearing. There was a new scent with them: the strong smell of Twolegs layered with musky horse-scent and dried grass. Brackenfur, Spiderleg, and Squirrelflight were all carrying something that smelled of milk. Brightheart's mate, Cloudtail, was supporting a cream-colored she-cat as she stumbled on her paws. Brightheart pushed her half-eaten vole aside with interest. Kits?
Birchpaw darted up to Squirrelflight, dropping a ball of old moss onto the ground. "What have you got there?" he asked, nosing the kit, who let out a squeal of complaint. "Oh, wow! Whitepaw, come look at this!" he called.
Brightheart's daughter Whitepaw streaked out of the elder's den, carrying more moss. "Kits! Where did you get them?" she exclaimed, confirming Brightheart's suspicion. Whitepaw's fur was fluffed out with excitement. The two apprentices followed the patrol as they headed toward the nursery, at the other side of the camp. Brightheart stood up to stretch and watch them go. She glanced over to the rockfall beneath the Highledge and the leader's den, where a skittering of pebbles told her that Firestar was leaping down to the clearing. Even with only one eye left from that long-ago dog attack in the old forest, her hearing was excellent.
Firestar was indeed coming down from the Highledge, his ginger fur gleaming as he settled himself beside Brambleclaw and Sootfur. Cats were gathering in the center of the clearing, ears pricked.
Ferncloud appeared from the bracken at the entrance of the warrior's den and shook out her gray pelt. She stared, wide-eyed, when she saw the kits being carried by the patrol, before rushing over to them to take action. "Poor little scraps! Bring them into the nursery," she ordered. "Whitepaw, go fetch Cinderpelt. And Birchpaw," she turned to her own kit, "go tell Firestar."
Turning back to the she-cat, she asked, "Are you their mother? Don't worry, we'll look after you."
Brightheart heard the entire exchange from across the camp, but her attention was turned elsewhere when her littermate Thornclaw settled himself beside her on the hard-packed earth. "What's going on?" Brightheart hissed in his ear. Thornclaw twitched his tail in amusement.
"You're asking me? I just got here," he said, turning to peer in the direction of the nursery. "I should be asking you the same question."
Brightheart followed her brother's gaze as Sorreltail stuck her head into the nursery. Sorreltail looks plumper than usual, Brightheart noticed. Is she expecting kits?
Cinderpelt limped out of her den and across the clearing with a mouthful of herbs. Their tangy scent stung Brightheart's nose even from here. She heard the clear exasperation in the gray she-cat's mew as Cinderpelt entered the nursery. "What's this, a Gathering? Out, out! Give us room to breathe in here!"
Cats began to file out of the den at the medicine cat's words. Several of the warriors gathered around Firestar, Cloudtail among them. Brightheart pulled herself to her paws and went to stand by her mate's side.
She got there just as Cloudtail spat something at Brambleclaw. Brightheart wrapped her tail around Cloudtail's shoulders and hushed him. He turned to glare at her.
"This isn't your fight," he growled, but affection glowed in his blue eyes, behind the anger. Brightheart rolled her eyes. Toms could be complete mouse-brains sometimes.
"Leave it, Cloudtail," she mewed. "Don't pick a fight about everything."
"I do not!" he protested, his white pelt fluffed up in self-defense. Brightheart purred and leaned against him.
She faded in and out as the toms continued to talk. She noticed Cloudtail twist to glance over his shoulder toward the nursery a few times, worry making his ears twitch.
When Firestar leaped up the rockfall to his den, Brightheart turned to Cloudtail, grooming her ginger-patched fur. "Do you want to go hunting?" she asked, flicking his ears with her tail fondly.
"Well . . ." Cloudtail seemed distracted. Brightheart padded around to stand directly in front of him.
"Are you even listening to me?" she asked, frustrated when he glanced at the nursery again, away from her.
"Yes, I am . . ." Another glance at the nursery. Cinderpelt was padding out of the bramble den with Sorreltail. "Maybe another time, Brightheart. I'm going to go check on Daisy." He turned and trotted away across the camp. Brightheart noticed his paws were light with . . . what? Excitement? Eagerness at seeing Daisy again?
That was the first sign of the rift.