Эрин Хантер - Dark River

Firestar’s eyes flashed. “Silence!” he snapped. “Don’t forget you’re talking about your Clanmates! I invited Daisy, Brook, and Millie to join ThunderClan because they make us stronger.” He glared around the clearing. “You are happy to eat their fresh-kill and to have them fight beside you. Do you want me to throw them out because they have the wrong names? Do you want the other Clans to tell us what to do?”

“Of course not!” Graystripe meowed.

“Millie and Brook are warriors already,” Brambleclaw put in. “Names make no difference.”

That’s not true! Hollypaw dug her claws into the earth. They had not had proper naming ceremonies; the Clan was ignoring a ritual that had been followed for countless moons.

What would StarClan think? We must live by the warrior code! She stared at Thornclaw, willing him to speak, but he only dipped his head to their leader.

Firestar blinked at him and turned once more to Millie.

“You may keep your name. We have seen your courage in battle and your skill at hunting. You are ThunderClan now. May StarClan recognize you as a true warrior.”

“ThunderClan! ThunderClan!” Birchfall began the chant and the others quickly joined in. Hollypaw watched in silence, noticing Dustpelt and Thornclaw exchange anxious glances.

“Don’t you feel like cheering?” Squirrelflight had weaved her way to Hollypaw’s side.

Hollypaw’s whiskers quivered. “What if StarClan doesn’t recognize her as a true warrior?”

“Do you really think StarClan is narrow-minded?”

Squirrelflight murmured.

“We have the warrior code for a reason and this goes against it.” Hollypaw’s fur rippled along her spine. “Brambleclaw should have spoken out. He knows how important it is to follow the code.”

Squirrelflight smoothed Hollypaw’s fur with her tail.

“Brambleclaw is Clan deputy. He must support Firestar.” Her green eyes glittered. “And don’t forget that Firestar was a kittypet once.”

“But he still took a warrior name!” Hollypaw mewed hotly.

“He followed the warrior path and trained as an apprentice.”

The cheers were dying away as the cats began to return to their duties. He never tried to change the warrior code!

“Hollypaw!”

Brackenfur’s mew jerked her from her thoughts. He was standing beside Cloudtail and Spiderleg. Their apprentices, Cinderpaw and Mousepaw, were pacing back and forth.

“It’s time we assessed your progress,” Brackenfur told her.

“I want you, Cinderpaw, and Mousepaw to go hunting. Catch as much prey as you can.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes glowed. “An assessment already?”

Hollypaw forgot her unease, excitement pulsing through her pelt. At last she would have a chance to show everything she had learned.

Brackenfur flicked his tail. “Don’t forget I’ll be watching, out of sight.”

“Good luck!” As Squirrelflight padded away, nerves fluttered in Hollypaw’s belly. What if she let Brackenfur down?

No! She wouldn’t let that happen.

Mousepaw and Cinderpaw hurried to join her.

“I don’t know who I want to impress more—Cloudtail or Brackenfur!” Cinderpaw glanced anxiously at the two warriors. Brackenfur was her father.

“I’m going to show Spiderleg that I really can catch a squirrel,” Mousepaw vowed.

“You may as well start now.” Cloudtail padded over. “You must each hunt alone. We’ll be keeping an eye on you, so do your best.”

“Of course we will!” Hollypaw promised.

Cinderpaw shot away, Mousepaw hurrying after her.

Hollypaw caught up with them as they raced through the thorn tunnel, each pushing to be first out. Hollypaw had never hunted alone before. Her whiskers twitched with anticipation.

“Where are you going to hunt?” she asked as they burst out of the camp.

“I’m hunting by the stream near the ShadowClan border,” Cinderpaw announced. “There’s always prey there.”

“It’s a bit open, isn’t it?” Hollypaw mewed.

“I’m good at jumping,” Cinderpaw reminded her. “Even in the open, the prey won’t see me coming till it’s too late.”

“I think I’ll stick to the undergrowth,” Hollypaw decided.

“I prefer stalking my prey.” She glanced at Mousepaw. “What about you?”

“I’m with you,” he announced. “Undergrowth is easier. But once I’ve caught a couple of mice, I’m going to get a squirrel.”

“Come on, then!” Cinderpaw charged up the slope away from the camp.

Hollypaw and Mousepaw sped after her, leaves fluttering in their wake. As they neared the stream, Cinderpaw veered away toward the bank. Hollypaw headed for a small dip where the ferns grew thickly, and Mousepaw bounded away in the other direction.

Hollypaw halted at the edge of the dip. Steadying her breath, she dropped into a hunting crouch and crept down the slope. She wound her way through the thick fern stems, careful not to set any of them rustling. Is Brackenfur watching me already? she wondered as she drew herself forward, one slow paw step at a time. Don’t think about that. Concentrate on the hunt.

She focused her senses on the foliage ahead, opening her mouth slightly to taste the breeze. Rabbit scent hung stale in the air, but the smell of mouse was fresh. Good! She halted and pricked her ears. The ferns were shivering up ahead. Narrowing her eyes she peered through the lush stalks and saw a small brown shape dart across over the leafy earth. A shrew!

It began rooting among the leaf litter.

She crept closer.

The shrew stiffened.

Mouse dung! Her tail had brushed against a leaf.

The shrew glanced around.

Don’t move! Hollypaw held her breath and pressed her tail to the ground.

The shrew began rummaging again.

Good! It’s busy looking for food.

Moving as slowly as a snail, Hollypaw drew herself forward. The shrew went on rummaging. One more paw step!

A twig cracked beneath her paw. The shrew darted away.

Hollypaw sprung and shot out her forepaws, catching the shrew in her claws before it had time to escape. One quick nip to the back of the neck and it was dead. Heart pounding, she carried it to the roots of a beech and buried it quickly before turning back for her next catch.

Before long she had caught another shrew and a mouse. As she safely buried the last of her catch beneath the beech, she saw golden fur flash among the brambles at the top of the slope.

How long had Brackenfur been watching her? She hoped he was impressed.

Ferns rustled and Mousepaw exploded from the woods behind her.

“I’ve caught my two mice,” the gray-and-white tom declared. “Now for that squirrel!”

“Shh!” Hollypaw snapped. “You’ll scare the prey away!”

“Sorry.” Mousepaw flicked his tail. “Are you still hunting?”

“I think I’ve got enough,” Hollypaw conceded.

“Any sign of Cinderpaw?” Mousepaw asked. “I hope she’s done okay.”

“I’ve done fine!” Cinderpaw emerged from the ferns, four water voles dangling by their tails from her jaws. She dropped them next to Hollypaw. “Can I bury them with yours?”

“Won’t they get mixed up?”

“Cloudtail already knows what I caught.”

“Have you spoken to him?” Hollypaw was surprised.

Mentors weren’t meant to help in an assessment.

“Of course not,” Cinderpaw assured her. “But I could see him watching the whole time. It’s hard to hide in anything but snow with a pelt as white as his.” She purred with amusement.

“Mousepaw’s still determined to catch a squirrel,” Hollypaw told her.

“Really?” Cinderpaw stared at the gray-and-white tom in surprise. “Didn’t you get enough mice?”