Эрин Хантер - Lost Stars

Bristlepaw ignored her. Venturing out onto the ice, she lay flat and splayed out her legs to spread her weight as much as possible, and she forced herself to ignore the shock of cold penetrating her fur. Pushing herself forward with tiny movements of her claws, she headed for the struggling cat. She could feel the ice straining under her weight, but it held until she could reach the edge and stretch out her neck to grab the SkyClan cat’s scruff as he sank under the surface.

Gradually Bristlepaw edged backward, dragging the other cat with her. The ice began to break up around them under their combined weight, but when it finally gave way, Bristlepaw realized that the water was shallow enough for her to stand. She let go of the other cat’s scruff and boosted him with her shoulder so that he could stagger to the bank. Bristlepaw let out a gusty sigh of relief as she followed him and collapsed in a heap beside him on the pebbles. She was shivering, and not only from cold.

I’m lucky that I didn’t drown, too!

“Bristlepaw, are you completely mouse-brained?” Rosepetal came to stand by her apprentice, her voice as freezing as the wind and her eyes like chips of amber ice. “I told you to come back. I should have you dealing with the elders’ ticks for six moons at least.” Her voice grew gentler, almost changing to a purr. “I’d do it, too, if you hadn’t been so brave.”

“I had to,” Bristlepaw explained, warmed by her mentor’s praise. “I’m the lightest of us. Besides, he would have died if I’d left him there.” As she turned to the cat she had rescued, her warmth gave way to sharp irritation. “You stupid furball!” she exclaimed. “What were you doing out there on the thin ice?”

The cat—he looked barely older than a kit—raised his head to gaze at her. His eyes were full of gratitude. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “It was an accident. I’m lucky you came along.”

The two other SkyClan cats had approached and were looking down at their Clanmate. Bristlepaw recognized them as two apprentices she had seen at the last Gathering: Kitepaw and Turtlepaw.

“It was partly our fault,” Turtlepaw admitted.

“Yeah, we’re sorry,” Kitepaw added, ducking his head in shame.

“And so you should be,” Rosepetal snapped, turning her furious gaze on the two apprentices. “How much help do you think you were, running up and down and yowling like a pair of foxes in a fit?”

The youngest apprentice nodded, and Bristlepaw noticed that, even drenched and shaking, he had summoned a gleam of appreciation at Rosepetal’s scolding.

Rosepetal turned to gaze down at him and went on, “Who are you, anyway? I don’t think I’ve seen you at a Gathering.”

The apprentice tottered to his paws. “I’m Rootkit,” he said, shivering. “I mean—Rootpaw.”

Rosepetal tilted her head, studying him. “Are you Violetshine’s kit?” she asked. “Hawkwing’s kin? Look at you—you’re shivering so hard, and there’s ice in your fur. We’d better get you back to the ThunderClan camp so our medicine cats can take a look at you.”

“No!” Rootpaw protested. “We’re SkyClan cats.”

“But the ThunderClan camp is much closer,” Rosepetal insisted. “It makes much more sense to go there.”

“But—” Rootpaw began.

Losing patience, Bristlepaw bent over Rootpaw and pushed her face close to his. “Don’t be mouse-brained,” she hissed. “You would freeze to death before you got back to your own camp.”

Rootpaw hesitated a heartbeat longer, then nodded.

“I’ll come with you,” Kitepaw meowed. “Turtlepaw, you’d better go back to camp and let them know what happened.”

Turtlepaw gulped, as if she wasn’t looking forward to that. “Okay,” she agreed. “We’re sorry, Rootpaw.” Without waiting for a response, she bounded off through the trees.

Bristlepaw steadied Rootpaw on one side, with Kitepaw on the other, as Rosepetal led the way back across the SkyClan border and toward the ThunderClan camp. The young apprentice looked embarrassed that he couldn’t walk by himself. But there’s no shame in that, Bristlepaw thought. Not after you nearly drowned. Any cat would need help.

Stemleaf, who was padding just ahead of the three apprentices, glanced back over his shoulder at Bristlepaw. “You did really well,” he mewed. “That was so impressive, how you saved Rootpaw.”

Bristlepaw dipped her head. “Thanks, Stemleaf.” Now that the emergency was over, she was beginning to feel the tingles of unease that she should have felt when she was out there on the ice. I’ll have nightmares about that for moons!

But she didn’t want to seem weak in front of a warrior—especially when that warrior was Stemleaf. “It was nothing, really,” she added.

Even though the icy wind was freezing her wet pelt, even though she felt more exhausted with every paw step, Stemleaf’s praise warmed her and made her want to go bounding through the forest, yowling out her joy. What Stemleaf had said to her meant more than any cat’s praise. More even than Rosepetal’s.

Eaglewing had run ahead to warn the ThunderClan medicine cats, so by the time Rosepetal’s patrol returned, Alderheart was already waiting for them. He bustled Rootpaw into the medicine cats’ den without asking for any more details.

Following them, Bristlepaw poked her head around the bramble tendrils that screened the entrance of the den, to see Rootpaw already flopped down in a nest of moss and bracken. Alderheart was busily licking his fur the wrong way to get his blood flowing and warm him up. She heard Jayfeather’s voice coming from the shadows at the back of the den.

“Thyme leaves for shock, and maybe one poppy seed, to be sure he gets some sleep.”

Reassured that Rootpaw would be cared for, Bristlepaw withdrew to discover that her littermates, Thriftpaw and Flippaw, had bounded up behind her, their eyes alight with eagerness.

“What happened?” Thriftpaw demanded. “Rosepetal said you rescued that SkyClan apprentice!”

For a moment Bristlepaw scuffled her forepaws in the earth floor of the camp, briefly embarrassed to tell her denmates about her own bravery.

Flippaw gave her a friendly shove. “Come on! Spit it out!”

Forcing herself to be calm, Bristlepaw told her story, determined not to exaggerate to make herself sound better. She saw her denmates’ eyes grow wider and wider as she spoke.

“Wow, that was brave!” Thriftpaw exclaimed when she had finished.

“They should make you a warrior right away,” Flippaw declared.

“Not yet, but that was still very impressive.” Bristlepaw turned her head at the sound of a new voice joining in, and let out a gasp to see Bramblestar padding up. “Very well done, Bristlepaw,” he finished.

Bristlepaw dipped her head respectfully to her Clan leader. “Thank you, Bramblestar.”

“I’ve got another job for you, if you’re not too tired,” Bramblestar continued. “I’m sending a patrol to SkyClan, to bring Leafstar up to date about Rootpaw’s condition. She needs to know that he’s being cared for, and that we’ll send him home as soon as he’s well enough. I’d like you to go with them.”

Bristlepaw turned to see Rosepetal and Stemleaf standing side by side a couple of tail-lengths away. All her tiredness fell away from her. She felt as if she could run all the way around the lake, three times, without stopping. I’ll be part of a mission to another Clan—and I’ll be with Stemleaf.

“Oh, yes, Bramblestar!” she replied. “I’d be glad to go.”

When Bristlepaw and the two warriors set out through the forest toward SkyClan territory, the wind seemed stronger than ever. Sometimes the gusts were so fierce that they were almost blown off their paws.