Эрин Хантер - River of Fire

“I can’t wait!” Finpaw leaped off the root and raced across the grass to rejoin Twigpaw. She had to step back abruptly to save herself from being knocked over. Finpaw’s tail flipped into her face.

“Hey, watch it!” she exclaimed with a glare.

“Sorry.” Finpaw veered in front of Twigpaw, and she almost fell over her own paws trying to avoid him. “Do you think they’ll be pleased to see us?”

A flutter of anticipation woke inside Twigpaw’s belly at the thought of meeting her old Clanmates again. I tried so hard to be a SkyClan warrior, she thought. But my heart is in ThunderClan. I’m so glad I made the decision to come back . . . and even happier that Finpaw decided to come with me. Surely they’ll welcome us. ThunderClan is my home.

“I’m sure they will,” she replied to Finpaw.

“Is it true what they say about ThunderClan?” Finpaw asked as the two young cats walked on side by side. He stretched his jaws into an enormous yawn. “Are they really so bossy, always telling other cats what to do?”

Twigpaw wasn’t sure how to reply. She knew that was exactly the way the other Clans sometimes viewed Bramblestar’s cats, but she had lived with ThunderClan for many moons, and she knew there was no simple answer.

Besides, she had more important things on her mind. Even though she had told Finpaw she was sure ThunderClan would be pleased to see them, she couldn’t help wondering how they would really react when she and her friend walked into their camp. They will be happy, right? Surely they’ve missed me since I chose to go with my father?

Twigpaw’s father, Hawkwing, was the deputy of SkyClan, and every cat had expected she would stay in the newly settled Clan with him and her sister, Violetshine.

But I wasn’t raised there, she told herself. It took me a while to realize how big a part ThunderClan has played in my life, right from when I was a kit.

As they rounded a bramble thicket, a familiar scent drifted over Twigpaw; she opened her jaws to taste the air more carefully.

“What is it?” Finpaw asked. “Is it prey? I’m starving!”

“No,” Twigpaw replied. “It’s the ThunderClan border scent markers. We’re almost home! Come on!”

She bounded forward, with Finpaw pelting along enthusiastically at her side. The ThunderClan scent grew stronger as they approached the border, and as they reached the line of scent markers, Twigpaw began to distinguish another familiar scent, this one of a single cat.

“That’s Sparkpelt!” she exclaimed. “You must have met her when SkyClan was living in the ThunderClan camp. She’s Alderheart’s sister. She must be somewhere around here. Sparkpelt!” she yowled, leaping up onto a small boulder that lay on the border line. “Hey, Sparkpelt!”

A clump of ferns rustled, and the fronds parted as Sparkpelt charged into the open. To Twigpaw’s amazement, her orange tabby pelt was bristling, and when she halted at the border, she arched her back and slid out her claws as if she was facing an enemy.

“Twigpaw! What’s going on here?” she demanded. “Why are you so far away from your camp, without your mentors? Has SkyClan been attacked? Is it more rogues?”

“No, no, everything’s fine,” Twigpaw meowed reassuringly, feeling almost amused at Sparkpelt’s urgent questions. “There’s no trouble in SkyClan.”

Sparkpelt relaxed slightly, her fluffed-out fur lying flat once more. But her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she glanced from Twigpaw to Finpaw and back again. “So what are you doing here?” she asked.

Once again Twigpaw felt the enormity of what she was doing, like a huge cloud gathering over her head, ready to release a storm. There’s no going back, she thought. Leafstar would never take me in again, after this. What will happen if ThunderClan sends me away?

“I’ve come home,” she replied, leaping down from her boulder. It was hard to form the words, as if her mouth were full of prey that she couldn’t spit out. “I want to be part of ThunderClan again.”

“And I’ve come with her,” Finpaw added cheerfully.

Sparkpelt’s ears twitched. “Just like that?” she meowed scornfully. “Cats can’t just defect to whichever Clan they feel like, whenever they want. That isn’t how it works. You made your decision, Twigpaw, and now you have to stick to it. And this SkyClan cat—he has no relationship to ThunderClan, so what does he think he’s doing here?”

Pain slashed deep inside Twigpaw like a massive claw. Whatever she had expected, it wasn’t this outright rejection. I thought Sparkpelt was my friend! Her head drooped, and she struggled to keep her voice steady as she responded.

“I know I must have hurt and upset some of you when I chose to go with my kin to SkyClan,” she began, praying that she would find the right words. “It was a huge mistake, and I shouldn’t have left the way I did. But surely you can understand that I was mixed up at the time?”

Sparkpelt made no reply, but the tip of her tail twitched once, then back again.

“Living with SkyClan showed me that I really am a ThunderClan cat,” Twigpaw went on desperately. “This is where I belong.”

“I’m not sure Bramblestar will see it that way,” Sparkpelt growled.

“I need to talk to him,” Twigpaw assured her. “I just want the chance to tell him how I feel. If Bramblestar doesn’t allow me back, then I’ll accept his decision.”

But what in StarClan will I do if that happens? she asked herself.

“There’s no way Bramblestar will turn away a cat like Twigpaw!” Finpaw mewed, bright and full of spirit as he always was. “Twigpaw is great!”

Sparkpelt fixed the small brown tom with a glare. “And who are you again, and what exactly are you doing here?”

“I’m Finpaw.” Sparkpelt’s aggressive stance didn’t seem to bother him at all; he faced the ThunderClan warrior with his head raised and his short tail stuck in the air. “We met when SkyClan first came to the lake—remember?”

“Now I do.” Sparkpelt’s eyes narrowed again. “That still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m here to be part of ThunderClan with Twigpaw,” Finpaw asserted confidently. “All the cats in ThunderClan are heroes—every cat around the lake knows that. You’re the best! I want to join you and have adventures!”

Sparkpelt seemed unmoved by Finpaw’s praise. “Well, all right,” she meowed, flicking her ears irritably. “I’ll take you to our camp. Walk a tail-length ahead of me, so I can keep an eye on you. And don’t think of putting a single whisker out of line.”

“We’re not enemies!” Twigpaw’s pelt bristled indignantly. “What do you think we’re going to do?”

“Keep your fur on!” Sparkpelt retorted. “I’m just taking the proper precautions.”

And hedgehogs fly! Twigpaw thought resentfully.

With Finpaw at her side, she crossed the border and headed in the familiar direction of the stone hollow, feeling awkward under Sparkpelt’s suspicious gaze. She was trying hard to ignore the growing heaviness in her belly, but Sparkpelt’s hostility had come as a nasty shock.

It’ll be fine once we get to the camp, she reassured herself. Bramblestar will understand. He has to!

The sun had gone down by the time the cats reached the thorn barrier that stretched across the entrance to the hollow, and twilight brought the chill of early leaf-fall. Sparkpelt pushed past the apprentices to lead the way down the tunnel.

“Follow me,” she mewed curtly.

When Twigpaw emerged into the stone hollow, the whole of ThunderClan seemed to be there. Her heart warmed as she saw so many familiar faces: Cherryfall and Molewhisker sharing a piece of prey beside the fresh-kill pile; Blossomfall sitting with Cinderheart at the entrance to the nursery while their kits frisked and play wrestled around their paws; Graystripe and Millie stretched out drowsily side by side in front of the hazel bush where they slept; Leafpool and Jayfeather earnestly discussing something beside the bramble screen that shielded their den.