Chapter 12
"I wish leaf-fall could last forever."
Birchfall wrinkled his nose. "Why would you wish that?" He shook each forepaw in turn before continuing to dig into the hardened ground near the center of the camp.
Hollystep rolled her eyes and fixed her brother with an indignant glare. "Why wouldn't I?" She challenged him hotly. "Leaf-fall is much better than green-leaf."
"You're only saying that because you've got a thicker pelt."
The dark tabby she-cat snorted, but didn't argue that particular point. Instead she focused on finishing her mouse.
"Besides," Birchfall continued when she didn't answer. "New-leaf is much better than leaf-fall."
"How so?" Hollystep crunched on a juicy bone, losing interest in the conversation.
"The forest is in full bloom and full of prey, and…"
Hollystep choked on the bone as a purr of laughter bubbled from her chest. "The flowers are in full bloom," she snickered, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather be a medicine cat? Or a queen?"
Her brother hissed in mock anger, swatting at her with a muddy paw. "Aren't you supposed to be on patrol or something? Stop bothering me and go find some fresh-kill to put in this hole Brambleclaw told me to dig!"
With twitching whiskers, Hollystep complied. She scanned the camp quickly. She had been on the dawn patrol with Spiderleg and Squirrelflight, but she couldn't see either of them. Brambleclaw was leaving at the head of the sunhigh patrol with Brackenfur, Dustpelt, and Sunpaw. I know Sandstorm has a hunting patrol out already, but I have no idea who she's brought with her. With a shrug, she decided to go alone. She had almost made it to the thorn tunnel when she heard her name being called. Her paws tingled as she turned to see Rainwhisker padding towards her, his pelt fluffed out against the chilly breeze. Fennelpaw was at his shoulder, his amber eyes as sharp as ever.
"I've promised to take Fennelpaw out hunting since I couldn't bring him on the evening patrol last night," Rainwhisker explained as they joined her. "Would you like to join us?"
"Sure," she touched her nose to his shoulder. "Let's get going, the sun is just starting to warm the ground."
They were nearly half way to the ancient oak when Rainwhisker stopped and turned to Fennelpaw. "Alright, what can you smell?"
Hollystep padded away to give them some space, pricking her ears for signs of prey in the undergrowth. The two moons they'd spent training showed in all three young apprentices. Hazelpaw had calmed down under Thornclaw's supervision, and Fennelpaw's wit had become as sharp as a thorn with Rainwhisker's guidance. Sunpaw seemed to have grown the most at that point though—and so had Brambleclaw. The first few days of his deputyship were awkward and full of apologies, but he learned quickly, and as he grew more confident, Sunpaw grew more confident. Though she hadn't at first, Hollystep understood now why Firestar had chosen to have Brambleclaw mentor Sunpaw.
It's something I'll have to learn if I hope to be leader someday.
She was stirred from her thoughts by a soft rustling in the brittle ferns. The tabby warrior tasted the air. Squirrel. She dropped into a crouch and pulled herself forward, pinpointing her prey's location by scent and sound alone. As soon as the rustling stilled, Hollystep pounced. She nearly missed, only just managing to sink her claws into the squirrel's fluffy tail. She drug it towards her and finished it off before it could make a sound.
"Nice catch," Rainwhisker called.
"Birchfall still has better hunting crouch than you," Fennelpaw put in cheekily.
Hollystep rolled her eyes as she joined the mentor and apprentice again. "Well I've yet to see you do a perfect hunting crouch," she pointed out as she stashed her prey to collect later.
"It's a shame," Rainwhisker shrugged. "It seemed pretty perfect to me when he caught that thrush. It really is a pity you missed it while you were chasing squirrels."
Hollystep swiped good-naturedly at the gray warrior. Then she turned to Fennelpaw, and the thrush she had just noticed at his paws. "That's really a great catch, Fennelpaw," she praised the young tom. "Longtail is going to appreciate a bird that plump this late in leaf-fall."
Their hunt went smoothly. Hollystep did get a chance to see Fennelpaw's hunting crouch, and (though she'd never say so) it was decidedly better than her own. I still bring back plenty of prey.
She shook her head for what felt like the hundredth time as they padded back towards the camp, laden with fresh-kill. Suddenly, Hollystep froze. Through tantalizing smell of fresh-kill, she caught something else—something unfamiliar. She dropped her catch. "Intruders," she hissed, signaling with her tail for Rainwhisker and Fennelpaw to follow her lead. She slipped through the undergrowth, her dark tabby pelt blending with the umber shades of leaf-fall. A flash of gray fur caught her eye, and with a challenging yowl, Hollystep launched herself at the trespasser.
The cat—a gray tom—let out a startled yowl, spinning around in an attempt to throw her off his shoulders. They were broad and well-muscled, she realized, but it would take more than sheer strength to defeat her.
"Hollystep wait!" Rainwhisker burst out of the bracken. "It's not an intruder!"
Hollystep glanced up, distracted by her Clanmate, and lost her grip. She twisted to her paws as she slithered to the ground, her neck fur bristling. "He looks like an intruder to me!"
A lithe tabby she-cat had come to stand beside him, her eyes wide with concern.
"No," Rainwhisker touched his tail-tip to her shoulder. "It's Stormfur, and a cat from the Tribe… Brook, right?"
"Stormfur…?" Echoed Hollystep, mystified. She had only heard stories about the RiverClan warrior that had journeyed with Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw to the sun-drown-place and back.
"You couldn't be Hollykit!" Stormfur blinked at the young warrior, seeming amazed.
"I'm a warrior now," she tilted her chin up defiantly.
Rainwhisker's tail curled in amusement. "Put your claws away, Hollystep, he didn't mean any harm. The last time Stormfur saw you was on the Great Journey—you could hardly walk then."
With a disdainful sniff, Hollystep twisted to lick her haunches, smoothing her bristling fur. "Anyways," she straightened and gave the newcomers a critical glare. "Why are you here?"
"Don't let her ruffle your fur," Rainwhisker put in. "Why don't you come back to camp with us?" He didn't leave them room to disagree as he beckoned for Fennelpaw to carry his catch and started leading the way. Hollystep helped the young apprentice, carrying her own kills and some of Rainwhisker's.
"Thank you," Stormfur spoke gratefully as they walked. "We've been searching for the Clans for nearly a moon."
"What for?" Rainwhisker blinked incredulously at the former RiverClan warrior.
"We just wanted to make sure you'd found the home StarClan promised you."
Hollystep felt her fur prickle with unease as the two Tribe cats shared a dark glance. I'd bet a moon's worth of dawn patrols that's not even half of the story.
They reached the camp before Rainwhisker could pry any more. As they entered, Brambleclaw jumped to his paws.
"I thought I smelled the Tribe on the dawn patrol!" He rushed over and greeted the two cats warmly. Hollystep dodged around them and deposited her prey and Rainwhisker's in the fresh-kill pile. Embarrassed that she had attacked a cat every other cat in the Clan was greeting like an old littermate, Hollystep snatched the squirrel she'd caught and a couple of mice off the pile stalked to the nursery. Whitewing was lying outside in a warm patch of sunlight, watching through soft green eyes as her kits played.
"I brought some fresh-kill," she settled beside her friend and started gnawing at the squirrel.
"Thank-you," Whitewing pulled the mice towards her. "Kits, would you like to try some mouse?" The play-fight stopped instantly, and the three little kits rushed to their mother's side. Nettlekit looked just like her father, with long legs and a sleek black pelt marked only by brown belly fur. Spottedkit took more after Whitewing, though her white fur was dappled with black spots, as if she'd been caught in a soot storm. Snowkit fit right in with his foster siblings with his snowy pelt, though he had a moon's worth of growth over the two she-kits.
"It smells good," Spottedkit squealed excitedly.
"But what's that?" Nettlekit's curious green eyes fell on Hollystep's squirrel. "Squirrel?"
"It is," the tabby warrior mewed. "You can try some of it if you'd like."
They each tried mouse and squirrel, before Spottedkit complained chewing made her tired and curled into Whitewing for a nap. Nettlekit continued chasing after leaves that had fallen into the hollow. Snowkit stayed with Hollystep, nibbling at a small portion of squirrel.
"He doesn't nurse much anymore," Whitewing purred proudly. "It's nearly time he started only eating fresh-kill."
Snowkit's tail fluffed out in excitement. "May I?"
"Of course," Whitewing's eyes were warm with affection for her adopted son.
"I'll try to bring you some every day," Hollystep promised, giving the small white kit a gentle nudge.
His eyes lit up. "Really?
"Really." Hollystep's purr broke off as Rainwhisker padded towards them. "What?"
Instead of flinching at her cold tone, Rainwhisker rolled his eyes. "Don't be more daft than you can help, Hollystep," he flicked his tail-tip across her ear. "Come meet Stormfur and Brook—properly this time. They don't care that you attacked them, Stormfur's actually pretty impressed."
Hollystep sighed. "Sure," she muttered. "I'll catch up to you once I finish eating with Snowkit." She didn't realize Whitewing's eyes glittering with amusement until the gray warrior had left.
"Rainwhisker must be pretty special to you," the young queen teased.
Hollystep flattened her ears. "What are you talking about?"
Whitewing blinked at her, disbelief clear in her face. "Great StarClan, Hollystep. If any other cat called you daft you'd have clawed them for it!"
Sparks flashed through the young warrior's veins, but she forced the warmth away with a lash of her tail. "Rainwhisker's just a good friend," she insisted, licking her paw and washing the remains of her meal from her muzzle. "Just because he got away this time doesn't mean I won't claw him later."
"You wouldn't claw Rainwhisker!" Snowkit's horrified gasp brought laughter to Hollystep's tense posture again.
"Oh I would," she assured the little kit. "But only when he behaves like he's got thistledown for a brain."
The kit's laughter was broken by a yawn, and Whitewing gathered him with a sweep of her tail. "Alright, Spottedkit's already asleep and it looks as if Nettlekit's crashed, as well. It's time you kits settled down in the nursery and got some sleep." Snowkit mumbled a complaint, but nudged Spottedkit and went into the nursery with her anyways. Whitewing went to collect Nettlekit from where she was dozing in a pile of leaves.
Hollystep took her leave, reluctantly joining Rainwhisker near the warriors' den where most of the warrior were sharing fresh-kill and chatting with Stormfur and Brook. Her pelt burned where she felt Rainwhisker's blue eyes burning into it, and in a flash of electricity and self-consciousness the tabby warrior remembered Whitewing's good-natured observation. She took a place beside Birchfall and pointedly turned her gaze to the ground. Rainwhisker's a friend, she told herself firmly. I have no interest in taking a mate—not now—and StarClan knows I can't stand the thought of having kits! She shuddered at the thought. I'd much rather be a mentor.
Still, she felt a distinct longing prodding at her heart. She yearned for the gray warrior's closeness, and enjoyed the time she spent with him. When they settled down to sleep for the night, Hollystep let out a sigh of relief when his pelt brushed hers. She scoffed inwardly even as she closed her eyes. Who's got thistledown for a brain now?
