Chapter 7

Birdsong echoed through the trees outside the ThunderClan camp as Hedgekit sniffed around the stone hollow. As a kit of nearly six moons, he knew every leaf, every stone, every branch in this camp, and it was up to him to check it regularly and make sure nothing was out of place.

To the dark tabby kit, the chirping of the birds as their calls echoed in the trees wasn't just an ambient noise that made the forest seem like home. He understood every word they were saying: the nearest one was chasing another chaffinch away from its nest; that one was calling for a mate, and at the edge of his hearing, a sparrow had just scented a dog and was crying out a warning. It wasn't just birds he could understand, either — he'd also heard mice and even dogs, and he guessed that he'd be able to understand others as well if he came across them.

He'd understood from a very young age that he was unique. Other cats couldn't understand the birds' songs; they were just noise, sounds that led them to their prey, and only other birds could understand what they said. Them, and Hedgekit. He hadn't told the rest of the Clan about his power; he liked knowing things that the other cats didn't. But he knew he had his power for a reason. He knew how prophecies worked. One day the Clan would be faced with a danger that would threaten their lives, and Hedgekit would be the only cat who could save them. He liked that feeling.

He could talk to the animals, too, he knew. Once, after listening intently to the birds' calls, his mother Moonblossom had asked him a question and his reply had come out as a chirp. A few of the warriors had gone mad trying to find the bird that had been stupid enough to stray into the camp. Occasionally since then, Hedgekit had intentionally mimicked a bird or a mouse just for fun. It was hilarious watching the warriors tear the camp apart trying to find the nonexistent piece of prey.

Hedgekit was considering doing it again right now, when Ivystar bounded out onto the Highledge and yowled the summons for a Clan meeting: "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Highledge!" Hedgekit sighed. What was the matter now?

As the Clan began gathering in the clearing, he saw Moonblossom motioning to him to join her and his brother Hazelkit where they were waiting near the nursery. Hedgekit shook his head and found his own spot near the other side of the hollow. He was almost an apprentice — he didn't need to sit with his family anymore. Moonblossom shrugged and turned her eyes toward Ivystar.

"Cats of ThunderClan," the black-and-white she-cat began, "this morning the dawn patrol reported a fox on our territory near the WindClan border. I'll be sending out a patrol first thing tomorrow morning to chase it out."

Hedgekit could already see a few of the warriors flexing their claws in and out at the thought of a fight.

"On a more positive note," Ivystar continued, "two of out kits have reached their sixth moon."

Hedgekit perked up, surprised. He and Hazelkit looked at each other from across the clearing as the black-and-white-furred leader beckoned them with her tail. The tabby tomkit trotted forward, slightly dazed but with his head still held high.

He could hear his mother behind him, hissing, "Hedgekit, come back! Your fur's a mess — you can't go up in front of the Clan this way! Oh, why didn't Ivystar give me some warning?"

The young tom heaved an exasperated sigh and pointedly didn't turn his head to look at his mother. Didn't she see that some things were more important that his pelt? Like presenting a strong face to the Clan and showing that he was not to be messed with. He hopped between two warriors in the front row in what was supposed to be a graceful leap, but his paw slipped on a dead leaf as he landed, causing him to stumble awkwardly. Hedgekit's pelt burned as he regained his balance, ears flattened in embarrassment as some of the warriors purred in amusement. Hedgekit glared. They wouldn't be laughing when Hedgekit was the only cat who could save the forest from some mysterious danger!

He did his best to shake away the embarrassment as Ivystar began. "Hazelpaw, your mentor will be Stonefoot. Stonefoot, it is your duty to pass down your skills to Hazelpaw, to teach him the warrior code and the ways of a ThunderClan warrior. I trust you will bear this burden well."

Stonefoot stretched forward to touch noses with the newly named Hazelpaw. It would be Hedgekit's turn next. His whiskers trembled in anticipation and nervousness. Who would his mentor be?

"Hedgepaw, your mentor will be Finchfeather. Finchfeather, your task is to pass on the skills you have gained in this Clan and to teach Hedgepaw the honor of the warrior code. I trust that you, too, will bear this duty well.

"May you both become noble warriors of this Clan," Ivystar finished, bounding down from the ledge.

"Hazelpaw! Hedgepaw!" As his Clanmates called his brother's and his new names, Hedgepaw raised his head proudly. He was an apprentice! He bounded up to Finchfeather.

"What're we doing?" he asked eagerly, circling the gray-brown she-cat excitedly.

"Now?" She sighed. "Oh, why not. Why don't we try hunting?" she offered.

"Okay!" Hedgepaw raced for the camp's thorn barrier without pausing for his mentor to keep up; Finchfeather sighed and hurried after him, catching up a little way into the forest.

"Hold on!" she panted. "I'm supposed to be leading, remember? You don't even know where we're going."

"So where are we going?"

"I though we'd try near the abandoned Twoleg nest."

"See? Now I know," Hedgepaw teased.

Finchfeather sighed again and shook her head, leading him deeper into the forest. Hedgepaw pricked his ears, listening to all the rustlings and voices of prey. He'd never heard so many at once before!

At last they reached the Twoleg nest: a huge structure with straight sides that must have been sturdy once, but were now crumbling and full of holes. The roof looked about to cave in, and from the looks of it, something already had, given all the rubble that covered the floor when Hedgepaw tentatively peeked in through a gap in the side.

Finchfeather led him past the nest and a short way into the trees on the other side of the overgrown clearing. "All right, anywhere's good," she meowed with a sweep of her tail. "How about right here." She sat down on the dusty ground, and Hedgepaw did the same.

"Now, the first thing you need to remember about stalking a mouse is that it can feel the vibrations from your pawsteps through the ground..."

Finchfeather had sent Hedgepaw out alone to practice the crouch he'd learned on real prey; she'd be hunting on her own a short distance away. Hedgepaw tasted the air, but it was his ears that located a mouse scuttling among the leaves — the mouse was muttering to herself about how much she had to do before leaf-bare. Hedgepaw stalked up to her easily, pinning her to the ground. The mouse let out a startled squeak.

"Help!" the mouse screeched as she wriggled in his claws. "Cat! Help!"

Hedgepaw stared. He couldn't do this! It was a Clan cat's job to hunt and kill prey, but most Clan cats couldn't hear every word the prey said as it struggled in their claws in agony . . . Hedgepaw gulped. The thought of killing this mouse made him feel sick. Before he knew what he was doing, he had loosened his grip and the mouse dashed away, still squealing.

He just couldn't do this! He couldn't kill, not when he could understand the prey's every plea for help. It was like killing another cat. How can I ever be a warrior if I'm too scared to even kill a mouse?

But he didn't have time to think about it. A new scent had just drifted toward him on the breeze, attracting his attention. It had a tang of crowfood and blood, and it was nearby. He didn't realize how nearby until the animal appeared from the bushes. His breath caught. The elders had described that bright orange fur and pointed muzzle many times. There was only one thing it could be. Fox!