The wind ruffled my fur and stung my eyes, but I remained where I was, perched on the top of a large boulder. My ears twitched as the gentle sound of pawsteps reached them. It wasn't the dainty step of my sister, or the soft gait of Rushnose. Stoatwhisker would never come and comfort me, not even if StarClan themselves decreed it. With the wind blowing toward me, I couldn't smell the stranger – not very well, at least. My nose had never been the best. Even so, I refused to turn around. Whoever is was could continue on their way, I wasn't going to talk to them.
"Is there anything I can do?" A voice behind me asked, full of sympathy. It couldn't be! I nearly jumped out of my skin, and whirled around to face the speaker. My eyes grew wide as they confirmed what my ears had heard.
"Chivestar!" I exclaimed, bemused, startled, and afraid at the same time. Had Buzzardfang told her how I had run off during training? Was I in trouble? Was I to be exiled? A million theories ran through my head, and without pausing to consider how I could be interpreted, I added, "W-What are you doing here?"
"I've come to see if there's anything I can do for you, of course," Chivestar replied, and though those words would have normally made me feel like a mouse-brain, the goofy smile that came afterward prevented that. Instead, I realized that to her, it was an obligation to ask that question.
"Um…well…"
"Would you like to tell me what happened, Tawnypaw?" prompted Chivestar, and as she did, I considered, for a moment, that perhaps my leader understood what I was feeling and could relate. That shocked me. I didn't even understand what was going on with me and my emotions.
"I…as you wish." I took a deep breath, and tried not to frown. How did one go about being friendly with the Clan leader? I cleared my throat nervously and began. "I was training with Poppypaw and Buzzardfang, and I couldn't do one of the moves. Poppypaw did it perfectly…Buzzardfang told me to try to be more like Poppypaw." I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice. Perfect Poppypaw. "I told him he could go jump in the river."
"You…told him to do what?" I assumed Chivestar was going to scold me, judging by her shocked tone, and shut my eyes fearfully. Then I realized Chivestar was laughing, and my eyes snapped open in astonishment. "And how did he take that?"
"He wasn't happy," I admitted, allowing a slow smile spreading over my face.
"I'm sure of that," snorted Chivestar, shaking her head. "How about you come down from there and back to camp with me?"
I launched myself off the boulder without aiming, and nearly crashed into Chivestar, who moved out of the way just in time. I landed awkwardly and twisted my paw. "Sorry!" I gasped out, and clambered unsteadily upright. I winced and examined myself, fearing the worst, but nothing was broken. Just a few bruises here and there.
"No harm done," Chivestar assured me, with a twinkle in her bright green eyes. She flicked my chin with her long striped tail, an affectionate gesture that made me pause. "You do have to apologize to Buzzardfang, though."
The trip back to the camp with Chivestar was strange, but surprisingly fun. Chivestar knew lots of jokes, and her imitation of the grumpy ThunderClan leader, Goosestar, was excellent. Apologizing to Buzzardfang had been a bit stressful, but he accepted my apology, though with the air of someone who had been greatly wronged. Poppypaw made no mention of the incident, and Beechpaw and Gannetpaw were eager to hear the tale of taking a stroll with Chivestar. Sorrelpaw was distant, as usual, and Frostpaw said nothing, also as usual.
I woke bright and early the next morning, and a chorus of high-pitched squeaks outside prevented me from going back to her nest. With a disconsolate sigh, I noticed Poppypaw was still sound asleep, and moved across camp as not to disturb her. I settled myself in front of the thick gorse bush that served as the nursery, and had just begun to wash my ears when the high-pitched squeaking started up again. I looked around irritably for the source of the sound, and frowned at realizing it was coming from the nursery. Measly kits. I stuck my head in the small opening, prepared to give Ternpelt a sharp reprove (which wasn't particularly wise), but stopped short. The squeaking kits were Chivestar's, and the leader in question was sleeping soundly, though Neritewhisker was watching them closely. She looked up as I poked my head in.
"Oh, hello, Tawnypaw." She seemed cheerful enough, but she was clearly fatigued, and her swollen belly was obviously causing her much discomfort. She nudged an overexcited Shrewkit away from Ternpelt's still-sleeping kits, and asked, "What brings you here?"
"Um…nothing!" To Neritewhisker's bemusement, I backed hastily out of the nursery and hurried away. Greatly embarrassed, I tried to appear as if I had not just been about to yell about our leader, and suddenly found myself in front of a group of senior warriors. They had been talking quietly among themselves, but now turned their attention to the apprentice before them.
"Tawnypaw? Do you need something?" Maplewhisker asked, sounding a bit confused, and rightly so. Heat rushed to my face, and I was frozen for a few seconds before I could choke out a reply.
"N-No, excuse me," I stuttered, and streaked back to Poppypaw's side before Maplewhisker could say anything else. My sister lifted her head drowsily and stared at me, apparently entirely unconcerned.
"What's wrong with you?" Poppypaw murmured, and yawned widely.
"I just made a fool of myself in front of the senior warriors," I whispered back, feeling ill. I was so foolish…they would never make me warrior now. They must have formed such low opinions of me.
"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't that bad." Poppypaw laughed, dismissing the issue, and earning her a hate-laden glance. She rose to her paws and stretched, her ginger pelt seeming to glow in the early dawn sunlight. "Come on, if we volunteer for the dawn patrol it'll make us look good.
I reluctantly followed Poppypaw across the hollow back to the senior warriors. I stood beside her silently as she volunteered us them both for the dawn patrol, and was praised for her willingness to aid the Clan. In what seemed to me no time at all, we were following Furzetail, Chervilfur and Maplewhisker up the side of the hollow and out onto the moors.
"Why'd you want to come?" Chervilfur asked Poppypaw, and then yawned widely, exposing her fangs. "If I had a choice, I won't be here at all." I grinned as I watched Poppypaw try to come up with a reason of than 'we wanted to look good'.
"Well, we–" She started to explain, but was interrupted by Maplewhisker.
"We will head for the ThunderClan border stream first, and follow it down to the lakeshore, from whereon we will continue down the shore to the Horseplace. Is that alright with everyone?" Her briskly delivered plan was met with mutters of assent from the two warriors and one apprentice, but Poppypaw responded with an enthusiastic 'yes, of course'. Maplewhisker gave Poppypaw an odd look, and then gave in.
"The border looks quiet today," Poppypaw remarked cheerfully, turning her orange eyes on me for a moment. I kept silent, and focused on the border stream instead. It did indeed look quiet. I wrinkled my nose as the wind blew ThunderClan's scent towards us. We headed down the hill, and paused to reset the markers. Furzetail lapped up a few mouthfuls of water from the stream, but as he lifted his head I noticed him freeze.
"What is it?" I asked, crouching down beside him and following his gaze across the stream. The ThunderClan scent was almost overpowering. Of course, it was always like that on the border; they seemed to want to make sure WindClan knew exactly where the stream was. As if – we weren't mouse-brains. I couldn't see anything from where I was, though Furzetail did have a reputation for excellent eyesight.
"I could have sworn I saw someone," Furzetail frowned, sounding uncertain. "Perhaps it was just a trick of the light."
"Well, they do have a right to be in their own territory," Maplewhisker snapped, rolling her eyes. She had overheard our conversation, and clearly thought our heads were full of fluff. "We're wasting our time here." Poppypaw gave me a reproachful look, probably upset that I was ruining Maplewhisker's opinion of her. Like I cared what that grouchy she-cat thought. I 'wasted' a few more seconds staring at the opposite bank, then she followed Furzetail after the rest of the patrol. None of us saw anything else suspicious until the patrol reached the lakeshore. A young ThunderClan warrior (probably not much older than the recently named Smallstorm and Acorntail), was poking about the sand, on our side of the stream. He was so involved in whatever it was he was doing that he didn't notice us approach.
"What do you think you're doing?" Maplewhisker demanded in a loud voice, her orange eyes like flame. I wouldn't have wanted to be him right then. The whole patrol, including me, had spread out in a line a next to Maplewhisker, and later I would swear all our pelts were bristling.
The ThunderClan warrior looked up, and to my utter surprise, a smile spread across his muzzle. It wasn't a particularly nice smile, either. It was more of a smirk, like he had been expected some simpleminded WindClanners to show up.
"I was chasing a squirrel, but I lost it." he replied smoothly, still wearing that insufferable smirk. The sound of his arrogant voice made me want to shred him. I could tell it bothered Poppypaw, too – her ears were flattened back to her skull, and her tail was twitched from side to side like an angry snake. "It leaped over the stream, and I thought I saw it run into those gorse bushes." He pointed with his tail at some bushes near the shore. On my other side, Furzetail let out a shocked hiss. I glanced at him curiously.
"It's him! The warrior I saw by the stream," Furzetail snarled in my ear. I scowled, and pondered that in my head. If we saw him only minutes ago by the stream, then there was no way the squirrel story was true. He couldn't have hunted all the way down to the lakeshore in that amount of time.
"He's lying," I whispered to Poppypaw, and I saw her eyes widen a fraction before she passed on the message to Maplewhisker. Her expression barely changed; her poker face was better than mine.
"Prey that crosses a border is not to be chased," Maplewhisker fixed him with an icy stare. "Any competent warrior would know that." For the first time, the warrior flinched, and his eyes blazed with anger. I kid you not, when I saw his claws sink into the sand, for a moment I thought he was going to attack us. Then he seemed to get control of himself, his pelt flattened, and he smiled. Maplewhisker's expression changed to one of disgust. "If you do not leave our territory this instant, we will make you."
"My pleasure," He dipped his head politely to Maplewhisker, as if he wasn't a low-life ThunderClan trespasser. I spat at him as he passed us, and watched as he disappeared around the side of the hill. The warrior was as smooth as a snake, and just as sly.
"Good riddance." Chervilfur hissed under her breath. I could tell she was relieved at not having to fight the ThunderClan warrior. I, on the other hand, would have taken an excuse to shred him, as long as I had the patrol to back me up. ThunderClan thought they were so high and mighty! Ever since that coward Onestar had taken over, they had treated us like dirt. Everyone was fed up with it.
"Poppypaw, Furzetail – go see what he was doing in the sand," Maplewhisker directed them with a wave of her tail. I felt a pang of jealousy. Why did Poppypaw get to investigate while I was stuck with boring old Chervilfur? Pathetic, and totally unfair. However, Maplewhisker wasn't done. "Tawnypaw, Chervilfur, I want you to make absolutely sure that that warrior is gone."
"Yes, Maplewhisker!" I gave a little bounce of joy, and Chervilfur rolled her eyes. I shot her a glare of death, and followed the white warrior over to the stream. I found the ThunderClanner's tracks – he had indeed crossed the stream there. Chervilfur went further up the stream to make sure he hadn't crossed back over, and he hadn't. I almost wished he had; then we would have got to chase him all the way back. In summary, it was an allover boring investigation. At least the results were 'satisfactory', which was what Chervilfur had said when we reported back to Maplewhisker. Poppypaw and Furzetail had a much more exciting time. They had discovered that the warrior had buried something, and they got to dig it up! It wasn't prey, or anything one would normally bury. It was an odd two-leg item, and it was quite sandy, but once Poppypaw had dipped it in the lake (she is so clever), it became clear that it was green, with little purple flowers on it. None of us had any idea what it was, so we decided to take it back to camp.
"We can't all go," said an exasperated Maplewhisker. I tried to protest, knowing what she was going to say, but she cut me off. "Furzetail, Poppypaw and I will take this suspicious item back to camp, and Chervilfur and Tawnypaw will continue the patrol. No objections!" I groaned rebelliously, and she shot me an even scarier glare than my own. I straightened my ears and gave her a winning smile.
"Very well, Maplewhisker," sighed a disappointed Chervilfur. We set off down the lakeshore, and I found it in me to enjoy it a little. The lake was one of my favorite places. I normally dislike leaving the moor, but the lapping waves made me feel safe, and besides, the moor was right there. I could always dart back into the gorse if trouble arose. Soon the broken half bridge came into view, and the horseplace, which was wonderfully quiet. There were no horses in sight, but I remained on my guard nonetheless. You never know when one could come stomping towards you. To my shock, Chervilfur approached the horseplace fence, crossing the border, with a brazen look on her face.
"What are you doing?" I hissed angrily. Was she bee-brained? The horses would crush her with their rocklike paws! My mouth fell open when s she leaped on to the fence, and my eyes got even wider as she turned towards me, balancing on the fence.
"Oh, hush up, Tawnypaw!" Chervilfur snapped, but with some humor in her voice. I still wasn't sure what was going on, and she was making me angry. "I have an arrangement with one of the horseplace cats. They keep an eye out for me, and in return, I teach them battle moves." I was just about to tell her that that couldn't possibly be allowed, but I was interrupted.
"Chervilfur!" A pretty kittypet with tortoiseshell fur crossed the space between the barn and the fence and leapt up beside Chervilfur. Her eyes were green, like mine, and she smiled, until she noticed me. "Who is this?"
"She's just an apprentice that tagged along," Chervilfur dismissed my presence as if I was a lowly bug. My pelt bristled with anger. How could she do that? And how could she be so friendly with a kittypet? She must be a traitor of some sort. Chivestar would never let it go on if she knew about it. I let out a low hiss, and Chervilfur gave me a warning look. "So, Cressida, have you seen anything suspicious lately?"
"No, I haven't. A rouge nearly scared Hermione to death yesterday, though." Cressida kept a wary eye on me as she talked, and I noticed how muscles rippled under her fur, and that she didn't have the typical extra weight of a kittypet. I would have liked to claw Chervilfur for such traitorous acts, but I had no doubt that "Cressida" would leapt to her defense. That might not end well for me. "Am I to assume that you will be training me today?"
"Sorry, Cressida," Chervilfur said apologetically, and I ground my claws into the ground at her friendly tone. "I can't train you unless you give us something of more substance." Cressida nodded, and – was it my imagination? – She looked a bit annoyed at the refusal. I felt a twinge of satisfaction. Chervilfur jumped down from the fence and headed back to the hills, and I followed her closely. We hadn't gone around the other end of the territory, yet, but the sun was much higher already. I could see that Chervilfur wasn't about to go back, though, so I followed her without protest as we went back to patrolling border. It wasn't long before it started to get interesting again. I sniffed the border curiously- there seemed to be a strange scent there, but I couldn't make it out due to some overenthusiastic scent marking. (It was probably Beestripe, that arrogant piece of foxdung.)
"Chervilfur! I think there's a scent here," I called to the white warrior. Despite whatever betrayal was going on back at the horseplace, she had more experience with this sort of thing. Chervilfur had moved ahead of me and had her mouth open, tasting the air. She must have scented something too. I was startled (and a little afraid) to see her turn towards me with a troubled expression on her face.
"You're right," she confirmed. "There is a scent here, but it's rouge scent. And more than one." My pulse quickened. Rouges were bad news, especially in a group. We had had some trouble with rouges last season, and I knew no one wanted a repeat of that. Chervilfur hurried over to me and started sniffing the gorse there, too. "They were traveling up the border, I think."
"Is that bad?"
"Not necessarily," Chervilfur assured me, though she still looked worried. "As long as they stay outside the border we're good." I nodded firmly, though I was feeling a bit sick to my stomach. It was one thing when I was confronting a trespassing ThunderClanner with four Clanmates to back me up, but another when there was a potentially large group of rogues running about and all I had was Chervilfur (who wasn't even much of a fighter!). I nodded some more when she added, "We have to make sure they didn't cross into WindClan territory." I didn't trust myself to speak.
Rogues weren't like warriors. They killed without hesitation, and used battle tactics so barbaric that they weren't taught in the Clans. The thought of fighting one terrified me, but the possibility of being severely punished if I ran away kept me steadfastly following Chervilfur. I could tell she was scared, too, from the way her tail-tip was trembling like a leaf. We got pretty far only scenting them on the outer edge of the markings, though it didn't last.
"Tawnypaw! Look at this," breathed Chervilfur, nudging the remains of a rabbit. It was, to my horror, laying on the inside of the border. And it was fresh. The rouge scent was much stronger as well. I quivered, then scolded myself for being such a coward. Chivestar wouldn't approve of me fleeing a battle and leaving a clan-mate in danger.
Without another word to each other, we crept hesitantly onward. We followed the border up the side of the hill – the rouge scent quite powerful now – and upon reaching the summit, we were ambushed. A grey tom with long, mangy fur leapt over the top of the hill and bowled Chervilfur over, and they rolled down the hill, leaving me alone with the other rouges. (Actually, there was only three in total, so we weren't completely overwhelmed.) All my instincts were screaming at me to run away, for StarClan's sake, as the two rouges stalked toward me. One of them, the smaller one, was foreign-looking with a silver pelt and black stripes, and the other was an oddly familiar-looking white she-cat. They both looked quite nasty, and when the smaller one lashed out at me with unsheathed claws, I did the only logical thing: I ran.
"TAWNYPAW!" Chervilfur's outraged shriek was still ringing in my ears as I streaked through the gorse. OF course I felt awful for leaving her to die with those rouges, and I had never hated myself more. I was, shortly, a lousy, pathetic coward, and shouldn't be allowed to live in the Clans. There was no doubt in my mind that Chervilfur would dislike me from now on. As I crested a hill much like the one I'd abandoned Chervilfur on, a brilliant idea struck me. I wasn't really running anywhere, but if I went to camp and got help, perhaps Chervilfur would forgive and Chivestar would let me became a warrior and whatnot. I changed course and headed for the beach. Every good runner knows that you can run faster on wet sand with no obstacles, and besides, the camp isn't that far from the shore. I have never run as fast as I did that day in my whole life. As my paws slapped against the sand, I imagined Chervilfur getting torn apart by those rouges, (and Chivestar condemning me to a life with Cressida), and sped up. I was going so fast that when I approached Smallwhisker and Acorntail, who were guarding the entrance to the hollow, I couldn't slow down, and cannoned into Smallwhisker. The poor she-cat was knocked off her paws, but I hastily apologized, picked myself up, and tore into the hollow. Neither Maplewhisker nor Furzetail were in sight – they had already reported to Chivestar, apparently, who was perched atop the Tallrock. She saw me come in, and her face broke into a grin, but then she realized something was wrong, and hopped down from the Tallrock just as I narrowly avoided crashing into that, too.
"Tawnypaw! Where's Chervilfur?" she asked anxiously, helping me up from where I had collapsed at the base of the Tallrock. I couldn't respond; I was too busy catching my breath. Rushnose and Poppypaw were suddenly there, with wide, concerned eyes. Finally I managed to get some air in my lungs.
"Ambush…northern border…rouges…Chervilfur's holding them off…" I kindly left out the part where I deserted Chervilfur and left her to fend for herself. Immediately Chivestar was all business.
"How much time do we have?" she inquired, her bright green eyes snapping to her deputy, Asphodelfur, who gave her a quick nod, and then back to me. I wasn't entirely sure what she meant. How much time until Chervilfur died? Well, judging by the look on that longhaired tom's face when he attacked, she could be dead already, but I decided not to mention it.
"I don't know…she's outnumbered." I couldn't seem to get enough air in my lungs. My vision started to go black, and my legs buckled. The last thing I saw was Chivestar moving to catch me.
When I opened my eyes, Chervilfur was glaring at me, leaf poultices on her neck, shoulder, stomach, and eye. At least she wasn't dead, though she did look decidedly unhappy. I didn't feel that great either. My head was throbbing, and my legs ached. I averted my eyes from Chervilfur, and rested them on something much more pleasant to look at. The extremely beautiful medicine cat apprentice, Duckface, was rummaging about in the back on the cave, looking for some herb no doubt, but she turned around when she felt my gaze on her.
"You're awake," she said with a start, and was at my side in a flash. "How does your head feel?"
"It's, um, it's fine," I mustered a wimpy, obviously fake smile, trying to ignore the flutter feelings in my stomach that always happened around Duckface. It was really unhelpful right now. She frowned and looked me up and down with those copper-colored eyes of hers. Those butterflies were really murdering each other down there. I heard Poppypaw's voice outside, and started to get up. "I'm hungry."
"No way, Tawnypaw," Duckface said sternly, pushing me back down into the nest with one paw (she was very strong). A shiver seemed to run through my body from the spot where she had touched me. I felt decidedly warm all of a sudden. "You are staying in this nest until your head ache goes away. Do you have any idea how much energy you spent tearing back here? You need to recuperate. I'll get you some freshkill." And with that, she was gone. I was left alone with Chervilfur, who still did not look happy to see me.
"Look, Cherv-"
"Don't even start," she cut me off. "I still can't believe I'm in your debt." Chervilfur's scratched and bruised face broke into a wide grin, which made her wince. I was confused. Was she mad at me or thanking me? "You saved my life. I didn't think you would. Thanks." Well, that cleared things up.
"Um, you're welcome." She didn't know that I had intended to abandon her. Well, I'd probably be better off if it stayed that way, so I didn't enlighten her on what had actually been going on in my mind earlier that day. If it was indeed still the same day. Chervilfur turned her back towards me and began to snore, and Duckface still wasn't back yet, so I decided to get up. Immediately I began to rethink that decision. My head throbbed as if kits were dancing on my skull, laughing in their teeny high-pitched voices, and my legs ached. Determined, I tottered out of the den, and was – of course – accosted by two mewling kits. StarClan must hate me.
"Tawnypaw! Tawnypaw! Are you dead?" I huffed and rolled my eyes. Apparently unintelligence ran in the family. Buzzardfang's kits were just as ignorant as he was.
"Do I look dead, Shrikekit?" The grey and white kit titled his head to the side, examining me with suspicious, narrowed yellow eyes. I must have looked pretty disheveled (and dead), because he had yet to come up with and answer when his sister intervened.
"You don't look dead," Mottlekit mused, confusion visible on her features. "But the last time Pipitstorm took someone into the den and wouldn't let anyone see them, they died." I flinched, and scowled at the kit. They hadn't let Poppypaw see me? She must be terrified.
"I am not dead, you mouse-brains!" I regretted shouting at the kits later, but right then I stormed across the camp to the fresh-kill pile. Duckface was nowhere in sight; the 'fact' that she had seemingly forgotten about me made me even more frustrated. I was disappointed to see the fresh kill pile nonexistent – who had let it run out? Incompetent. As I wandered aimlessly about camp, which was very quiet in the midday sun, I vowed to myself that I would never have kits. When I had reached the opposite side of the hollow without meeting a warrior, I realized something was wrong. The only visible warrior other than Chervilfur was Lavenderfur, and she was perched on a stone at the ridge of the hollow, keeping watch. Where in StarClan is everybody?
"Tawnypaw!" a welcoming voice rang out around the virtually silent hollow, and a subconscious smile spread across my face. I turned to face the speaker, a black and white tom who reminded me of Mottlekit and her siblings.
"Hey, Rookpelt," I replied, my smile vanishing as my head throbbed painfully. Rookpelt looked concerned, but didn't move to assist me – he knew I didn't require his help. "Where's the rest of the Clan?"
"Goosestar called an emergency meeting," he told me, and the things he didn't say told me this was a very big deal. "Since I'm so young, I got to stay here with the rest of the Clan, Duckface, and a few other warriors." I could relate to the resentment I detected in his voice. They had left me behind, too. I wondered if the emergency meeting had anything to do with the warrior who had trespassed yesterday – I assumed it was yesterday, since it was midday and I was ravenously hungry.
"Do you know why the meeting was called?"
"No, sorry," Rookpelt said with a sigh. It was clear he would have very much liked to know the reason for the meeting. "A messenger came, spoke with Chivestar, and then they left. It was all very quick." I narrowed my eyes. That was highly suspicious. Had Goosestar called the meeting so he could ambush us while the warriors were away? If so, I wanted to know if any senior warriors had been left behind. They would know what to do.
"Who else was left behind?" I inquired, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice.
"Darkfur and Beestripe," replied Rookpelt, obviously bemused. It hadn't occurred to him that we might be ambushed. Did he never worry about anything? I found myself cursing Chivestar. How could she have left me with so few warriors?
"I can't believe this!" I blurted out. My headache was not helping. Perhaps I should not have gotten up so quickly. Rookpelt began to look alarmed.
"Can't believe what?"
"Chivestar! She left us to be slaughtered without any capable warriors!" I didn't stop to think before I said that, and I couldn't take back my words. Rookpelt blinked, hurt, and took a step back. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
"It's okay," Rookpelt said lightly, brushing it off even though I could tell I had wounded him. "You're right that I'm not much good." I winced again, but not because of my headache. I still don't understand why he tolerates me. Fortunately, I was spared of saying anything else.
"Rookpelt, Tawnypaw!" It was Lavenderfur. She raced down the side of the hollow and gracefully stopped in front of us. I tried not to slouch when her eyes landed on me. "I must speak with Darkfoot. Guard the hollow in my absence."
"Yes Lavenderfur," rapped out Rookpelt, sounding very much like a professional. I nodded tightly, and Lavenderfur nodded to both of us, then headed for the elder's den, where – theoretically – Darkfoot was. We looked at each other, then Rookpelt shrugged and started to climb the side of the hollow. I followed him, and we were soon sitting side by side on the smooth stone. He kept trying to move closer to me, which I thought was a bit odd, so I moved away. Eventually he gave up. We hadn't sat there for more than half an hour when Beestripe appeared over the rim of the hollow, looking decidedly grumpy.
"Tawnypaw, Lavenderfur says I am to replace you as sentry," he muttered, eyes downcast. I smelled the nursery on him and guessed that he had been visiting Neritewhisker instead of doing something useful. I smirked, and with a triumphant flourish of my tail I left my post and returned to the comforts of camp. I pranced down the steep slope, nose in the air, and not watching my paws, I slipped on some loose pebbles and lost my footing. Thankfully no one was around to see me tumble disgracefully down the hill. I picked myself up, shook the dirt off my pelt, and tried to look as if nothing had happened.
My head was throbbing again, but I ignored it. I had not been assigned another task, but I wasn't about to sit around camp waiting for the rest of the Clan to return. I made my way over to the elder's den (the elders can drone on a bit, but they always have an exciting story) taking my time. I stepped through the entrance, into the shady badger set. Three small furry bodies immediately attacked me. My legs still weak, I was bowled over, and tiny paws pummeled me relentlessly. Realizing what and who had attacked me, I allowed myself to go limp, and a triumphant squeak came from the ringleader of my attackers.
"Yes! We got her!" Even with my muzzle in the dirt I recognized that voice. I smirked to myself, and waited until the kits' guard was down, then I sprang up suddenly, throwing them off. Too late I remembered that they were fragile and I could have hurt them. Well, correction: these particular kits were very durable, and stubborn. "No! We can't let her escape! Sootkit, Shrikekit – attack!" Rallied by Mottlekit's cry, her brothers attacked with renewed vigor. Sootkit fastened his teeth in my tail, and Shrikekit clung to my back. Mottlekit herself was latched onto my foreleg. A muffled giggle caught my attention, and I turned – with difficulty – to see Squirrelfoot and Linnetpelt cackling like crows in their nests.
"You traitors! How could you give me up to them?" I gasped with mock horror, making a face for emphasis. Squirrelfoot and Linnetpelt pretended to look innocent. I raised my free paw and gently brushed Shrikekit off my back, then shook Mottlekit off my foreleg. Sootkit was more difficult. However hard I lashed my tail, he refused to let go. Finally, I gave up, and twisted around, plucking him off by his scruff, then dropping him unceremoniously on the ground. I did all of this while fighting off Mottlekit and Shrikekit, claws sheathed of course. Once I was free, Mottlekit assumed an expression of extreme dignity.
"We surrender, O Tawnypaw the Great," she announced, her brothers nodding severely. "For your greatness was too much for us." With a small bow, Mottlekit lead her brothers out of the elder's den, her head held high in the air.
"What in the name of StarClan was that all about?" I asked Squirrelfoot and Linnetpelt, but they just shrugged. Apparently no one could explain Mottlekit's antics except Mottlekit herself. Poppypaw and I had never come up with such exciting games in our kithood. I shrugged as well, and sat myself down opposite the two elders. Time to get down to business. "What do you two know about this emergency meeting?" I asked because Chivestar often came to them for advice, since they were so wise. (Although they were still immature enough to giggle at another's misfortune.) She might have told them something she didn't tell Lavenderfur.
"Not much," answered Squirrelfoot, her face grave. "I'm assuming Lavenderfur told you that a messenger came and told Chivestar an emergency meeting was being called?" When I nodded, she continued. "Well, that's pretty much all we know. Chivestar, too." I frowned. Surely there was more than that. Chivestar wouldn't have just blindly trusted ThunderClan like that, right? But the more I thought about it, the surer I became that that was exactly what she had done I mentally cursed Chivestar for being so trusting. I refrained from saying so aloud, though. It was well known that Squirrelfoot and Linnetpelt completely adored Chivestar. I didn't want to hurt their feelings. Besides, they would probably kick me out.. Chivestar wasn't half as suspicious as I was, but surely it would have crossed her mind that it could be an ambush.
"Hm," I said, at a loss of anything unoffending to say. Then I recalled something from the last time Poppypaw and I had visited the elder's den together, right before we had been made apprentices. It seemed so long ago. "You know, you never finished telling me that story about Tallstar." When they looked blank, I prompted, "The one where Deadfoot saved his life?"
"Oh, yes! That was Poppypaw's favourite story," Linnetpelt laughed and nodded, and I flashed a tight smile and told myself I did not want to hear the story because it was Poppypaw's favourite and I missed her. "Where did we leave off?"
"Tallstar was chasing the rabbit."
"Of course," Squirrelfoot murmured, and launched into the story. It was an experience, listening to Linnetpelt and Squirrelfoot tell a story. Thye laughed a lot, frequently interrupted each other, and always seemed to know what the other was going to say before they said it. I loved it. "Tallstar bounded after the rabbit, his long legs eating up the ground, and his tail streaming out behind him like a flag-"
"-Deadfoot limped quickly after him, cursing his leader under his breath-"
"He hated it when Tallstar left him behind, and this time was no exception. Deadfoot shook his head as he watched Tallstar dart after the rabbit, around a hill, and out of his sight. That leader of his would get himself killed someday-"
"-And he very nearly did. Tallstar had rounded the hill without looking where he was going, and he ran smackdab into something very large and very furry-"
"-Deadfoot heard an astonished yowl and his green eyes widened – Tallstar was in trouble! The crippled deputy picked up his pace, and ran faster than he ever had before-"
"-And ever would again. He didn't go around the hill, but charged straight up it, and once he was at the top, he could see what was going on. He charged down the side and threw himself at the badger, a flurry of claws and teeth! Tallstar had been caught in the beast's teeth, and was sorely wounded, but was freed by the ferocity of Deadfoot's attack. Even without the use of his left forepaw he was a force to be reckoned with-"
I listened with rapt attention, astonished as always with the animation and feeling that the two elders told their story. They seemed to actually care about what they were saying, and spoke as if they had both been there many seasons ago in the forest.
"-But even he was no match for two full grown badgers! Tallstar, though bleeding heavily, leaps to aid his courageous friend, eyes blazing like fire! He jumps on the other badger's back, as it was about to swat Deadfoot, and rakes it with his claws while Deadfoot keeps the other occupied-"
I focused less on the story then, and watched the two elders. They exchanged words like warriors' exchanging blow in a battle, and it was fascinating to watch. Once Squirrelfoot showed me what move Deadfoot used on the badger, using Linnetpelt as the badger. I can't help but wonder how true their version of the story is. Once Chivestar said that she would create a new rank called 'story-teller', and appoint Linnetpelt and Squirrelfoot. She had been joking, but she was right – they were excellent weavers-of-tales. I found myself smiling widely, and forgot all about the possible threat of invasion. I missed the significant look Linnetpelt flashed Squirrelfoot when I laughed heartily, and how Squirrelfoot's smiles had a decidedly matronly look to them.
It was well past sunset when the rest of the Clan finally returned. I heard the pounding of many paws on the moor, and rushed out to meet them. I was relieved to find them unhurt, though tired. All of them, especially Chivestar, looked very unsettled. Even Poppypaw's eyes were round as the moon when she came up to me, and the fur on her shoulders was bristling. I had just opened my mouth to start interrogating her when Chivestar swarmed up the Tallrock and called a Clan Gathering.
"WindClan! I have grave news," she announced, and I noticed her striped tail was twitching in agitation. I tried again, more stubbornly this time, to ask Poppypaw what in StarClan was going on, but she shushed me impatiently.
"Chivestar's about to speak! Besides, wouldn't you rather hear it from her?" I said nothing in response, but glowered silently, refusing to admit that she had won. She was always better at arguing than I was.
"For those of you who may not know –" here she inclined her head to Neritewhisker and Ternpelt, who were seated by the nursery, a parade of kits surrounding them. "- earlier this evening we were called to an emergency meeting by Goosestar of ThunderClan. His messenger informed that it was of utmost importance, and would have wanted me to accompany me alone, had my senior warriors not talked me out of it." Her gaze flickered to Asphodelfur and Buzzardfang, who nodded to her. "When we arrived, Goosestar had assembled almost his whole Clan at the Island, as Asphodelfur predicted. Goosestar chose to loom about on his branch like a grouchy old raven, and it was Gingerclaw that informed us – that is, the other leaders and deputies – what it was all about." She paused for effect, and I was surprised at her hard, angry expression. Apparently her dislike for Goosestar and his tactics was strong indeed. "Gingerclaw so kindly expressed to us that a warrior had recently reported both WindClan and rouge scent inside their borders." There was an outburst righteous anger (mostly smearing ThunderClan and Gingerclaw), of which I took part in, but Chivestar waved her tail for order and it was quiet once more. "I am not happy about these accusations any more than you are," she said with a scowl, "but ThunderClan insisted it was legitimate and that they had traced the scent back to the network of tunnels that run under both our territories. They insisted that this was a major breach of security and that we could use it to launch an attack on them 'much like the one that was planned many seasons ago when Onestar was leader', to quote Gingerclaw." There was more grumbling at this – Onestar had been extremely unpopular even inside his own Clan. "Of course, I reminded her that the attack was planned without Onestar's knowledge. In conclusion, it seems their main goal was to start a discussion about the tunnels and, frankly, annoy everyone."
"That's absolute rubbish," I blurted out, much to Poppypaw's dismay. She gave me a reproving look, but Rookpelt, who had appeared at my side halfway through the debriefing, nodded encouragingly.
"I agree," he said bracingly. "ThunderClan's got no business accusing us of things." We spent the next few minutes bashing ThunderClan while Poppypaw watched Chivestar and the senior warriors, who were conversing in undertones on the other side of the camp. I suspect she found us rather immature, honestly. I was still confused. Why would ThunderClan want to call attention to the tunnels? It would be far more logical to just dismiss it and use the tunnels to launch their own attack. It could be that Goosestar wanted to avoid a fight, but that simply wasn't like him.