Stormfur paced back and forth. He'd been pacing inside the warriors' den, but Blackclaw had complained about it, so Mistyfoot had sent him out in the territory.
"What's eating the ba-rave Stormfur?" A chuckle came from some nearby undergrowth.
"Show yourself!" Stormfur demanded, unsheathing his claws.
"Relax, stupid furball." An affectionate voice responded. "It's just me."
'Me' turned out to be Tawnypelt, which relieved Stormfur.
"I haven't been out in a while, that's all." He lied, feeling a knot form in his throat. Tawnypelt gave him a quizzical look.
"You can tell me anything, you know." She replied. Looking into her warm green eyes, Stormfur felt as if he could trust this cat, and he felt as if he were back on the Great Journey, when every cat trusted each other, and the four Clans were closer than kin.
"It's nothing." He insisted. "I've got to go. See you at the Gathering, maybe."
"Okay." Tawnypelt said. "I've got to get back to hunting. StarClan light your path!" She added over her shoulder.
Stormfur flicked his tail as a reply, heading to the lakeshore. The setting sun still blazed across the lake, reminding Stormfur of Greenleaf's end.
I know, I know. He thought suddenly, as if he were an apprentice again, being reminded to not let his shadow fall on the water. Stormfur's tail twitched. He felt helpless, unaware of how Squirrelflight was. She hadn't shown up for their meeting, and he'd assumed she had been confined to camp. But still…he thought. What if she was no longer interested in him? Stormfur pushed away the thought.
Ridiculous! He assured himself, although he couldn't push away the nagging thought:
What if Squirrelflight has fallen in love with Ashfur?