Эрин Хантер - Dark River

“Okay.” Hollypaw nodded.

Mousefur sat up stiffly. “Good to see newleaf again.”

Longtail winced as Leafpool washed more herbs into his wound. “The forest smells good,” he meowed. “I’ve been thinking about going out.”

Hollypaw blinked in surprise. Since he had lost his sight, Longtail rarely left camp.

“Only if I can come with you,” Mousefur croaked. “You’ll need someone to keep an eye out for foxes.”

“Foxes!” Hollypaw tucked her tail close to her.

Cinderpaw tossed a wad of moss toward the entrance.

“Foxes aren’t that bad.”

“Aren’t that bad?” Hollypaw gasped. “What about the ones that chased me? They almost had my tail!”

“You were only a kit,” Cinderpaw pointed out. “They wouldn’t seem so scary if you met them now.”

Hollypaw wasn’t convinced.

“Foxes are just a nuisance,” Cinderpaw went on. “It’s badgers you have to watch out for.” The gray tabby’s eyes grew wide. “ They are terrifying.” The fur along her spine rippled. “I hope I never meet another one as long as I live.”

“ Another badger?” Hollypaw sat up. “You’ve never even met one.”

Cinderpaw tipped her head to one side. Confusion clouded her gaze. “You’re right.” She reached out and tugged some stale moss from beside Mousefur. “I must have dreamed it.”

Cinderpaw could be so mouse-brained!

As Hollypaw began to reach for fresh moss, she noticed Leafpool staring at Cinderpaw. The medicine cat’s mouth was open as though frozen mid-lick. What had surprised her so much? It wasn’t the first time Cinderpaw had been muddled.

Longtail started to fidget. “Have you finished, Leafpool?”

“No.” Leafpool bent her head quickly. “Hold still, I’m nearly done.”

Firestar’s call sounded from outside the den. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highledge.”

“A Clan meeting?” Mousefur narrowed her eyes. “I hope everything’s okay.” She got slowly to her paws. Hollypaw glanced at Cinderpaw, excitement fluttering in her chest.

Had something happened? She darted out of the den ahead of the others and saw Firestar leaping down the tumble of rocks from Highledge.

The fresh-kill pile was well stocked. “The dawn patrol’s back,” Hollypaw whispered to Cinderpaw as her friend caught up. “Perhaps they’ve brought news.”

Stormfur and Brook settled at the edge of the clearing.

Graystripe and Millie padded out from behind the warriors’ den. Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight sat down in the shadow of Highledge while Lionpaw padded after Ashfur and settled beside his mentor. Daisy stayed by the nursery, whisking Icekit and Foxkit back with her tail as they tried to see what was happening.

Once the Clan had settled, Firestar sat down in the center of the clearing. He gazed around, his eyes shining.

“Doesn’t look like anything bad,” Hollypaw murmured to Cinderpaw.

“There is something I’ve wanted to do for a while,” Firestar began. “And now that newleaf is here it seems like a good time for new beginnings.”

Hollypaw leaned forward excitedly.

“It is time Millie became a ThunderClan warrior!”

Hollypaw froze. Millie had been a kittypet when Graystripe had met her. He’d given her some warrior training and she’d helped him on the long journey back to his Clan. But did that make her a warrior? Hollypaw didn’t even know if Millie believed in StarClan.

Mews of approval rippled around the edge of the clearing.

“About time!” Whitewing called.

Birchfall kneaded the ground. “She has the heart of a warrior!”

Hollypaw stared at them in surprise. Surely it wasn’t that simple? The daylight Gathering had helped to smooth the ruffled fur of the other Clans, but making a kittypet a warrior? Wouldn’t that stir up hostility again? Millie was a good hunter and had proved her bravery and loyalty in battle, but to make her a ThunderClan warrior…

“Millie.” Firestar beckoned the striped gray tabby.

She stepped forward, chin high. Hollypaw couldn’t help admiring her. And yet she had never trained as an apprentice.

How could she possibly have a warrior name? Hollypaw felt her chest tighten with anxiety.

“You have fought bravely in battle,” Firestar meowed. “You have made sure the Clan has been fed through a bitter leaf-bare. No cat here doubts your loyalty or your skill. You have earned the warrior name I give you.” He paused for a moment. “From this day on you shall be known as—”

“Wait!”

Mews of surprise rippled among the Clan as Millie interrupted Firestar.

She gazed steadily around the cats, her blue eyes glowing.

“I’m privileged to be considered a ThunderClan warrior,” she meowed. “I could ask for no greater honor. And I am grateful to Graystripe for rescuing me from my life as a kittypet.”

She blinked warmly at her mate. “If I’d stayed my whole life as a Twoleg companion, it would have been only half a life.

But—”

Graystripe stepped forward. “Millie?” His eyes were clouded with anxiety. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”

“Never.” Millie padded toward him and brushed her muzzle against his. Then she turned back to Firestar. “You can rely on my loyalty until the day I join StarClan, and you must believe that I will live and die to protect ThunderClan. But I don’t want to change my name. I have always been Millie, and I see no shame in it.”

A shocked silence gripped the Clan. Ashfur flicked his tail.

Sandstorm narrowed her eyes, studying the former kittypet.

Brambleclaw’s whiskers twitched.

Graystripe lifted his chin. “Millie is right. It doesn’t matter what she’s called. It only matters how she acts, and I know that she will always put the Clan first.”

Hollypaw watched Firestar, wondering what he would do.

The ThunderClan leader shifted his paws uneasily, glancing from Graystripe to Millie.

Suddenly, another mew sounded. “May I speak?”

Hollypaw spun around. Daisy was padding forward. The cream-colored queen slid between Spiderleg and Birchfall and stepped into the center of the clearing. Hollypaw pricked her ears. Daisy had never spoken at a Clan meeting before.

“I am glad Millie has chosen to keep her name,” the she-cat began. Her soft mew trembled a little. “I am no warrior, but I am a ThunderClan cat. I stay in the nursery rather than hunt and fight because that is what I do best. I care for our young as though each kit were my own. This is my gift to the Clan, but I do it in my own chosen name.”

“She is right!” Brook stepped forward. “My loyalty lies with ThunderClan, but I would never give up the name given to me by the Tribe.”

Stormfur padded forward and ran his tail along his mate’s flank. “Is there any cat here who would not trust Millie or Daisy or Brook to fight on their side?” He stared challengingly around the Clan.

“No!” Graystripe led the call and Brambleclaw, Cloudtail, Whitewing, and the others quickly took it up. Daisy’s kits, Berrypaw, Hazelpaw, and Mousepaw cheered loudest of all.

Hollypaw watched uneasily.

Suddenly, Thornclaw’s mew rose above the others. “Stop!

What would the other Clans say if they could see us now?”

Dustpelt nodded. “ShadowClan has already tried to take territory from us because we are no longer a pure forest-born Clan.”

Spiderleg narrowed his eyes. “Naming ceremonies are part of the warrior code. Can we ignore them and still keep the respect of the other Clans?”

Hollypaw swept her tail over the ground. Dustpelt and Spiderleg were right. Millie, Daisy, and Brook were important to the Clan, but unless they accepted all the customs of the Clan, how could they truly be part of it?