Erin Hunter - Sunset

Ferncloud gave Leafpool’s ear a grateful lick. “You’re a wonderful medicine cat, Leafpool. I’m so glad you came back.”

I haven’t been wonderful , Leafpool thought. I abandoned my Clan!

The elders emerged from their den and settled down near the rock wall, glancing nervously at one another like they expected bad news. Stormfur and Brook hovered on the edge of the clearing, as if they weren’t sure whether they were meant to be there or not.

Leafpool beckoned to them with her tail. “Come and sit here,” she invited them. “You’re welcome to join in while you’re staying with us.”

Nodding gratefully, Stormfur and Brook came over to join her. Daisy brought her three kits out, and Brackenfur sat in the entrance to the nursery, where he could listen and still be close to Sorreltail.

Brambleclaw and the rest of the dawn patrol were standing together at the foot of the tumbled rocks. Leafpool saw their tails were fluffed out and their eyes alert, as if they could sense danger on its way.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” Firestar began, “Brambleclaw and the dawn patrol found something you need to know about.

Brambleclaw, will you tell them?”

Brambleclaw leaped up onto one of the rocks. “We found a Twoleg trap on a fox track,” he meowed. “It’s a loop of thin, shiny stuff, fastened to a stick driven into the ground. When you touch the loop, it pulls tight. Any cat who got their head stuck in it could be killed.”

Before he had finished speaking, wails of dismay began to rise from the cats who sat around him. Ashfur crouched down with his neck fur bristling as if he were about to leap onto an enemy, while Whitepaw pressed her belly to the ground in terror. Beside her, Cloudtail lashed his tail and bared his teeth in a snarl.

Mousefur’s voice rose above the rest. “Are these traps all over the territory?”

Brambleclaw waved his tail for silence so that he could reply. Leafpool thought how commanding he looked, standing on the rock. It wasn’t difficult to imagine him becoming Clan deputy. Is Firestar right to keep on hoping that Graystripe will return? Would it be better for the Clan to accept that he has gone, and appoint a new deputy?

“We only found one trap,” Brambleclaw was meowing.

“But it makes sense there would be more.”

“Why?” Rainwhisker demanded. “Why would Twolegs want to trap foxes, anyway?”

The cats glanced at one another, murmuring in bewilderment. Then a new, trembling voice spoke up. “I can tell you why.”

Leafpool glanced over her shoulder and saw that Daisy had risen to her paws. It was the first time the horseplace cat had spoken in a Clan meeting, and she looked almost as terrified as when the badgers had broken into the camp.

“Go on, Daisy,” Firestar mewed encouragingly.

“The Nofurs—I mean, the Twolegs—keep birds on their farms for fresh-kill. Not little birds like the ones we eat, but bigger. But foxes come and steal them, so the Twolegs want to kill the foxes to protect their birds.” She sat down again, blinking in embarrassment, and wrapped her tail around her paws.

“Thanks, Daisy,” Firestar told her. “At least now we understand what’s going on.”

“But what are we going to do about it?” Cloudtail demanded.

“What can we do?” Goldenflower challenged him. “No cat can stop Twolegs from doing what they want. We saw that in the old forest, and this place is worse!”

“That’s not true.” Ferncloud spoke gently to the elder.

“Even if it was, we can’t go back. There’ll be nothing left of the old forest by now. Here we have to learn new things.

StarClan wouldn’t have brought us somewhere that’s too dangerous for us to live.”

“Then maybe StarClan can tell us what to do about the traps!” Goldenflower flashed back at her.

“We can do that,” Brambleclaw meowed. “Squirrelflight worked it out. Squirrelflight, come up here and tell them.”

Leafpool watched her sister leap up onto the rock beside Brambleclaw. The sunlight gleamed on her dark ginger fur, turning it to flame, and for an instant she looked just like their father. “It’s easy,” she meowed. “You get a stick—as long as you can manage—and poke it into the loop. The loop snaps tight around the stick, and there you are—no more problem.”

Pride flooded over Leafpool. Their mother Sandstorm’s green eyes shone with admiration too.

“The real danger,” Firestar warned, “is that cats will come across these things when they aren’t expecting it. All patrols will have to keep a lookout, and report back if they find anything.”

“And if we spring a trap with a stick,” Brambleclaw added, “we should check it regularly in case the Twolegs set it again.”

“Good thinking,” Firestar meowed. “We’ll do that. Every cat who goes outside the clearing should watch their paws and check for scent. Fox scent and Twoleg scent together means danger.”

“How are we supposed to hunt, then?” Rainwhisker muttered. “We can’t watch and scent and chase prey all at the same time.”

Leafpool knew he was partly right. She shivered at the thought of a cat racing along, intent on bringing down fresh-kill for the Clan, only to run into one of the shining loops.

StarClan help us! she thought. Sooner or later, some cat is going to be killed .

Her worries had distracted her briefly from the meeting and when she started listening again, Firestar was talking about hunting patrols.

“Stormfur and Brook, ThunderClan thanks you,” he meowed. “Feeding the Clan after the attack would have been a lot tougher without you.”

Stormfur dipped his head in acknowledgment, while Brook studied her paws, looking embarrassed to be praised in front of the whole Clan.

“I want all cats who are fit to go out on hunting patrol,” Firestar went on. “By sunset I’d like all the Clan to be well fed and the fresh-kill pile stocked up.”

“Cloudtail and I went out yesterday,” Sandstorm meowed, rising to her paws. “I’ll go again, but I think Cloudtail should rest that injured paw. I spotted you limping,” she added to Cloudtail as he sprang up with a yowl of protest, “and your pad is bleeding again.”

Cloudtail sat down again, the tip of his tail twitching.

“I’ll come with you,” Brambleclaw offered.

Instantly Ashfur was on his paws. “So will I.” He spoke to Sandstorm, but he was glaring at Brambleclaw.

Stupid tomcats! Leafpool thought. She got up, signaling with her tail to Firestar that she wanted to speak.

“Yes, Leafpool?” her father mewed.

“Brambleclaw’s shoulder is badly hurt, and he’s already been out on patrol today,” Leafpool explained. “And Ashfur’s injuries are some of the worst in the Clan. I want to check them both before they set paw outside the camp.”

“Quite right,” meowed Firestar. “In that case, I don’t think either Brambleclaw or Ashfur should go. And Leafpool, please check all the other cats. No cat should leave camp until Leafpool approves it. Sandstorm, will you see to the patrols?”

Sandstorm agreed, and the meeting broke up.

“Hey, Leafpool,” Thornclaw meowed, “take a look at my injuries first, will you? I want to go hunting.”

“And mine,” Spiderleg added, thrusting forward to stand beside his Clanmate. “Look, the scratches are healing. I’m fine, honestly.”

“You’re fine if I say you are,” Leafpool retorted. She began rapidly checking wounds, sending the worst-injured cats to her den for more treatment, while Sandstorm organized the others into patrols.

In the end, two patrols left camp: Thornclaw with Dustpelt and Ferncloud, and Sandstorm leading Squirrelflight and Spiderleg.