Erin Hunter - The Sight

As his mind cleared, he realized that the cats were WindClan. Their scent was the same one that had been blown to him across the moorland the day before. And there were four of them, two older, two younger—warriors and their apprentices?

“Will he be okay, Whitetail?” one of the apprentices mewed. She crept forward and crouched beside Jaypaw. He could feel her pelt trembling against his.

“He’ll be fine, Heatherpaw.” Not his rescuer, but a gentler voice, the mew of a female warrior. “Can you hear me?”

Jaypaw nodded. Clumsily he dragged himself into a sitting position. His ears were full of water, and he shook his head to clear them. Pebbles crackled as the WindClan cats leaped away from the droplets that sprayed from his waterlogged fur.

“Typical that a ThunderClan cat should thank us by trying to drown us!” Jaypaw had not heard this mew before. He guessed it belonged to the other apprentice—a tom, by the sound of it.

The older tom growled a stern reply. “Stop making a fuss, Breezepaw! It’s only a few drops of water.” Jaypaw felt warm breath on his cheek as the warrior leaned in close. “What were you doing so far from your camp?” he demanded. “Is there anyone with you?”

“Be gentle, Crowfeather,” Whitetail pleaded. “He’s had a bad shock.” Jaypaw felt a soft tongue lick his ear. “You’re safe now, little one.”

Jaypaw relaxed against her, sheltering from the wind in her warm, dry fur.

“I’m Whitetail,” the she-warrior went on. “This is Crowfeather, and these are our apprentices, Heatherpaw and Breezepaw. We won’t hurt you.”

“I think he might have guessed that by the way we just saved his life!” Breezepaw muttered.

“I wish you’d teach your son some manners, Crowfeather!”

Whitetail meowed sharply. She turned her attention back to Jaypaw. “What were you doing out here alone? Did you know you were heading for WindClan territory? Are you in trouble?”

“I will be,” Jaypaw mewed under his breath.

“I should hope so,” Crowfeather snapped. “What was your Clan thinking, letting you wander off like that?”

Heatherpaw leaned closer in, brushing Jaypaw’s pelt with her whiskers. “Can you see anything at all?” she asked curiously.

Breezepaw snorted. “If he can, he must be stupid, walking off the edge of a cliff!”

“I didn’t walk off the edge!” Jaypaw hissed.

“It looked like it from where we were standing.” Breezepaw sniffed.

“Be quiet, Breezepaw!” Crowfeather scolded.

Breezepaw fell silent, but Jaypaw could hear his tail twitching crossly over the pebbles.

“I suppose I’d better take him back to ThunderClan,” Crowfeather meowed. “Are you well enough to travel?” he asked Jaypaw.

Jaypaw nodded. His legs still felt shaky, but he wasn’t going to give Breezepaw the satisfaction of mocking a ThunderClan cat again. He stood up. “Thank you for rescuing me, but I can find my own way home,” he mewed politely.

“There’s no way I’m letting you wander off by yourself again,” Crowfeather insisted. “Whitetail, you take Heatherpaw and Breezepaw back to camp.” He laid his tail firmly on Jaypaw’s shoulder and began to guide him up the beach.

“See your medicine cat as soon as you get home!” Whitetail called after him.

Crowfeather hardly spoke as they trekked back into ThunderClan territory and headed toward the camp. He only meowed curt warnings when they came across rabbit holes or roots that might trip the ThunderClan apprentice.

Jaypaw was content with the silence. The ground was unfamiliar, and he was too furious to concentrate on anything but Crowfeather’s occasional instructions. He resented Crowfeather’s tail resting lightly on his shoulder, but he did not complain. He was in far too much trouble already. Once again his attempt to prove he was as good as any other cat had ended in disaster.

I know this place, he thought suddenly. The sloping earth beneath his paws was strewn with twigs. Trees rustled overhead. They were nearing the top of the hollow. Jaypaw’s heart sank. How was he going to explain why he wasn’t with Brightheart? What would his father say? He scented a ThunderClan patrol and realized that Squirrelflight, Stormfur, and Brook were heading straight for them. He tensed his shoulders.

“Crowfeather?” Stormfur’s surprised mew sounded from the bracken ahead.

Paws raced toward them. “Jaypaw!” Squirrelflight’s mew was shrill with relief and anger as she pressed her muzzle into his damp fur. “What in StarClan happened to you?” She licked him ferociously between the ears. “Where did you find him?” she asked Crowfeather.

“He’d wandered into WindClan territory,” Crowfeather explained gruffly. “I had to fish him out of the lake.”

Jaypaw bowed his head, his pelt burning with embarrassment. To make it worse, he could tell Squirrelflight was feeling an awkwardness that strengthened as Crowfeather went on. “Do your kits always go out by themselves?”

“I’m not a kit; I’m an apprentice!” Jaypaw snapped. He felt his mother’s tail brush his muzzle, silencing him.

“Crowfeather,” she meowed coolly, “I believe WindClan once had cats who went wandering farther than they should.”

Her mew was laced with a meaning that Jaypaw didn’t understand. But Crowfeather clearly did. The WindClan warrior flicked his tail away from Jaypaw’s shoulders and snorted.

“You should get him back to camp,” he meowed. “He almost drowned, and the water was freezing.”

“Yes, I should,” Squirrelflight agreed. She nudged Jaypaw down the slope that led to the thorn barrier.

To Jaypaw’s surprise, Crowfeather accompanied them back to the hollow. Squirrelflight did not question it, and Jaypaw sensed positive joy in Stormfur’s step as he padded alongside the WindClan warrior.

Brook fell into step beside Jaypaw. “Do not be ashamed,” she purred in his ear. “I got up to far worse when I was still training.” She pressed her warm flank against his cold, wet pelt. He knew the mountain cat was trying to make him feel better, but it didn’t help.

Suddenly he heard the thorn barrier rustle, and Mousepaw rushed out of the camp entrance. “You found him!” the apprentice called, delighted.

Squirrelflight sighed. “Yes, we found him.”

“Go and find Brightheart’s patrol and tell her to stop searching,” Stormfur told Mousepaw. “Ask Cloudtail if you can take Cinderpaw with you.”

“Yes, Stormfur,” Mousepaw mewed, dashing back into the camp.

Squirrelflight led the way through the tunnel. Jaypaw clenched his claws and followed her into camp.

“Go straight to Leafpool,” Stormfur advised him softly.

“I’ll come and see you once I’ve spoken to Brambleclaw,” Squirrelflight mewed. “He’ll want to know you’re safe.”

Feeling lower than a worm’s belly, Jaypaw slunk toward the medicine cat’s den. Crowfeather padded after him. Jaypaw blinked in confusion. Was the WindClan warrior determined to follow him wherever he went? Surely Crowfeather had no business with ThunderClan’s medicine cat? But he wasn’t going to challenge the warrior. Instead he tried to sense what Crowfeather was feeling, but it was like trying to reach into a bramble bush—he could sense nothing but prickles.

Leafpool spun around as Jaypaw padded through the entrance to her den. She hurried to his side, and he felt her relief like a blast of air. “You’re safe.”

She tensed suddenly, jerking her head to stare at Crowfeather as he pushed his way through the brambles.

Jaypaw’s fur pricked as tension set the air crackling like lightning in greenleaf.

“Hello, Crowfeather,” Leafpool meowed. She sounded as though she had a burr caught in her throat.