Chapter 13

The morning was cold and gray when Tinyclaw dragged himself out of his nest. Quietly, he padded over to Graystripe and prodded his friend awake with still-sleepy paws.

"Blurp… ah… Wha?" Graystripe mumbled incoherently. His eyes opened, slimy with sleep. He shut them tight again and curled up closer to himself, wrapping his tail tight over his nose. "Go away," he grumbled. "I'm tired."

I'm tired, too, Tinyclaw thought. Every muscle burned and he resisted the urge to go back to sleep. Instead, he lowered his head to Graystripe's ear and hissed, "You need to get up – we need to hunt for RiverClan."

At that, a shudder ran through Graystripe's lengthy pelt and he opened his eyes. Graystripe yawned, then got up to his paws. Tinyclaw licked his friend on the shoulder, knowing that the two of them felt the same – hunting for RiverClan as well as their own Clan was tiring, especially since their task needed to be done in the earliest hours.

We've been lucky, though, Tinyclaw thought. No one had caught them the past few days, and if any cat suspected, they gave no sign.

Tinyclaw stretched, and then he looked around the den. There were a few warriors awake on the dawn patrol, but otherwise the den was full of sleeping warriors. Whitestorm and Oakheart were sleeping in the center, just mounds of colored fur. They were safe for now.

Carefully, the two warriors picked their way out of the den and into the clearing. The air was crisp and moist, a thin layer of fog lying over the grass. Tinyclaw had almost thought every cat was still asleep – then Brindleface poked her head out of the nursery to sniff the air. She retreated.

The coast was clear. Tinyclaw turned to Graystripe and meowed, "We can go now."

Graystripe nodded, still shaking scraps of moss off of his fur. He gave his leg one last twitch before stepping up to Tinyclaw's side. Together they bounded across the clearing, heading for the gorse tunnel – but before they could reach it, they were stopped by a mew.

"Tinyclaw!"

Tinyclaw and Graystripe skidded to a halt, then turned to find that Cloudkit was sitting just outside the nursery. Her eyes were bright and awake, her pelt freshly-groomed. She looked up at Tinyclaw and Graystripe with wide eyes.

"Where are you two going?" she wondered. "Can I come?"

Graystripe grumbled into Tinyclaw's ear, "Your kin sure knows how to show up at the worst times!"

Tinyclaw nudged Graystripe, then stepped forward to address Cloudkit. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" he wondered.

"Bluefur's kits woke me up," Cloudkit explained. "They're noisy in the morning, but I'm used to it. Anyway," she mewed, bouncing to her paws, "what're you up to?"

"Just, uh," Tinyclaw's brain wasn't working well in this early morning.

"Is it a secret?" Cloudkit wondered.

"Yes," Graystripe grumbled. "Especially from nosy kits."

Cloudkit didn't look offended by the comment. Her plumy tail stuck straight up and she crowed, "I'll be an apprentice soon! I'm bigger than Ashkit and Fernkit!"

" 'Soon' isn't now, Cloudkit," Tinyclaw told her. "You know kits can't go out of the camp right now. Graystripe and I need to get going."

"Is your mission urgent?" Cloudkit wondered, tipping her head.

"Yes," Tinyclaw insisted, "and also secret – can you keep secrets?"

Cloudkit nodded vigorously.

"Good," Tinyclaw praised. "Now, if you're good and quiet about this, I'll take you out for some hunting practice, OK?"

Cloudkit's eyes shone like the sky. "R-Really?" she breathed.

Tinyclaw nodded. "Yes," he promised. StarClan willing, I'll have the energy… "Now, keep quiet and go get some fresh-kill for Brindleface and Bluefur. I'm sure they're hungry, yeah?"

Cloudkit nodded again. Then, she suggested, "Can I get some for the elders, too?"

"Of course," Tinyclaw told her.

"OK," Cloudkit chirped. "I'll see you later, then! Good luck!"

She turned away and headed for the fresh-kill pile. Tinyclaw watched her go, making sure she picked out something nice. Graystripe nudged him.

"Come on," he grunted. "We need to get going, before the whole camp wakes up."

Tinyclaw nodded, and the two headed for the gorse tunnel. On the way, Graystripe sighed: "Just our luck, right? I hope she doesn't go telling everyone about our special mission."

"I trust her," Tinyclaw insisted. "She might be bratty sometimes but she's got a good heart. She won't tell if I promised to take her out for practice."

"I hope so," Graystripe sighed.

Me, too, Tinyclaw thought.

Together they headed for the stepping-stones. The fallen tree was still caught up on them, making a safe way to cross – and hunting near their access to RiverClan territory ensured them a short trip. They were also less likely to be caught this way.

Yet the wind carried the smell of rain, and Tinyclaw figured that any sensible prey would be holed up in its den. Tinyclaw opened his jaws and caught the scent of squirrel. He signaled to Graystripe.

The critter was huddled up near a tree, nibbling at some seeds. Tinyclaw and Graystripe surrounded it on both sides, knowing that if it got spooked it would shoot up the tree. Together they closed in on it, low to the ground and light-of-paw, before leaping for the kill.

Graystripe managed to catch it first, pinning it and killing it. Tinyclaw landed a tail-length short. "Good thing I've got longer legs, eh?" Graystripe commented.

"Ha ha," Tinyclaw grumbled, shaking the moist dirt off his paws. "How is it?"

Graystripe gave it a lick. "Old and stringy," he assessed, "but it'll do."

"Then let's hurry and get some more," Tinyclaw decided, "before the rain comes in."

They continued their hunt until they'd scraped together a rabbit and some mice. Their catch was threatening to be too much to carry over the log in one go, so they stopped hunting and headed for the stepping-stones. The sky was getting grayer by the moment, and any time it seemed that rain would pour down upon them.

Crossing the log felt no better now than it did the first time. Tinyclaw felt so exposed and vulnerable, especially with prey in his mouth. Any cat could come by and see them, even with their dark pelts. Tinyclaw and Graystripe focused on their paws and kept clear of the branches at the RiverClan end as they finally crossed, splashing down onto the RiverClan side of the river.

"Welcome," meowed a cat, carefully.

Tinyclaw turned – alarm died in him as he spotted Leopardfur. The RiverClan deputy must have been on watch for them, as she kinked her tail for them to follow. Tinyclaw and Graystripe padded after her as her dappled pelt disappeared into the tall grasses.

Leopardfur led the way to RiverClan's temporary shelter in the bushes. The warriors had managed to scrape out a measly camp for their Clanmates, small shelters in the bushes to shield them from the wind and rain. Most of them looked up when Tinyclaw and Graystripe came in, and Brambleclaw met them at the edge of the makeshift camp.

"More fresh-kill?" Brambleclaw guessed. Silverstream appeared just behind him. "Wonderful!"

"Elders and queens first," Leopardfur insisted.

Together they placed their catch down with the RiverClan cats. Their fresh-kill pile was meager, but growing, and Tinyclaw felt a little pride at being part of their recovery. Silverstream nudged out a fish and suggested, "I'll take this to the elders."

She looked up and turned her gaze onto Graystripe. "You," she suggested, "come with me, and bring that rabbit."

Tinyclaw felt alarm course through him. Surely they wouldn't risk spending so much time together, out in the open like this? Silverstream had kept her distance before.

But Leopardfur looked approving of it. "Good," she decided. "Tinyclaw, you take that squirrel and go with Brambleclaw to check on the queens. I'll divide the rest of it."

Tinyclaw nodded, still dazed. He grabbed the squirrel and followed Brambleclaw through the bushes, reflecting on how strange it was to follow this RiverClan warrior and know that he was half ThunderClan. Brambleclaw didn't know of course, neither did his sister, but Tinyclaw felt the strangest way of it.

Tawnypelt was huddled in the makeshift nursery, her four kits nursing at her side. She looked tired, but her eyes brightened when she saw the fresh-kill. With her was Mosspelt, another queen, and together they split the squirrel. Tinyclaw watched them eat, grateful to see that both of them – and the kits – were all right.

But the day was nagging on, and Tinyclaw had to ask Brambleclaw, "We need to get going before we're missed; where's Graystripe?"

Brambleclaw nodded in understanding. "This way," he mewed. The big tabby got up and led Tinyclaw across the bushes again, to another low, well-sheltered spot of the makeshift camp. The elders were there, huddled together under a willow. They were sharing the rabbit and fish, and even though bones were visible in their pelts they seemed happy.

Graystripe and Silverstream were sitting on the slope above the elder's den. They were close, but not too close, and it seemed as if they were doing their best not to twine their tails together. Brambleclaw let Tinyclaw go, heading for the warriors, and as soon as he was gone Graystripe and Silverstream sprang to their paws and met Tinyclaw.

"What is it?" Tinyclaw wondered, looking at the two of them. Though they looked thoroughly pleased, their eyes shining, Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel apprehension dragging at his pelt like burrs. Why are they so happy?

"Tinyclaw," Graystripe breathed, his voice high and happy, "great news!"

"What is it…?" Tinyclaw asked, his voice low and full of a horrible knowing.

"You won't believe this," Graystripe said, giddy from head to paw. He managed to keep his voice down, though, as he said, "Silverstream is having kits!"