Erin Hunter - Twilight

Leafpool hesitated. She had meant to give Mothwing the message and go straight home. If she stayed much longer in RiverClan she would probably have to spend the night there.

But it was important to help Mothwing make sure that her territory held no hidden dangers.

“Yes, of course I’ll come,” she agreed, pushing aside the thought of the scolding Cinderpelt would give her. She was relieved that Mothwing didn’t seem to blame her for bringing Feathertail’s message, with all its implications that Mothwing wasn’t a true medicine cat. She felt a rush of warmth for her friend and hoped Feathertail was watching them now, seeing how devoted Mothwing was to looking after her Clanmates.

Mothwing led the way upstream until she came to a spot where a single stepping stone broke the surface of the water.

Crossing in two graceful leaps, she scrambled up the opposite bank and paused to wait for Leafpool.

“I was afraid you’d think I was talking nonsense,” Leafpool confessed in a rush, once she had jumped across the stream.

With a surge of hope she added, “Does that mean you’re starting to believe in StarClan?”

Mothwing twitched her whiskers. “No, Leafpool. I don’t believe the spirits of our warrior ancestors come back to speak with us. Stars are just unseeing specks of light in the night sky, not dead cats looking down on us. We can keep our old friends alive with memories, but if they’re not here, they’re nowhere. That’s what I believe.”

“I know.” Leafpool paused as she picked her way around a patch of thistles. “But if you don’t believe in StarClan, why take any notice of Feathertail’s warning?”

The RiverClan cat slowed down to look into Leafpool’s eyes. “Because I believe in you , Leafpool.”

Leafpool shook her head. “That’s mousebrained! How would I know anything, unless StarClan told me?”

“Because you’re a good medicine cat. You observe everything around you. Somehow you’ve seen or heard or scented something and you know it means danger, though you aren’t certain how you know. And because you believe in StarClan, it all surfaced in a dream about Feathertail. Simple.” She turned and padded on.

Leafpool didn’t think it was simple at all. But she didn’t argue. At least Mothwing had listened to Feathertail’s message.

When they reached the Thunderpath, Leafpool glanced around curiously. She had never seen this place before, although Squirrelflight had described it to her. There was a wide space covered by the same hard stuff as the Thunderpath, with a small wooden Twoleg nest in one corner. A half-bridge made of narrow strips of wood jutted out into the water. Everything was quiet.

Mothwing stood on the edge of the Thunderpath and tasted the air. “Yuck. ShadowClan,” she meowed, reminding Leafpool that this was the border of the two territories. “And something else…”

Leafpool stretched her jaws wide. There was a faint, harsh taint to the air that she had not scented for a long time. She felt the fur on her neck bristle. “Monsters have been here,” she mewed.

Mothwing met her anxious gaze. “But not recently.

There’s stale Twoleg scent too, though that reek from ShadowClan nearly covers it. Honestly, Leafpool, I don’t think we can call that ‘grave danger.’”

“Then what could the danger be?” Leafpool wondered.

Mothwing twitched the tip of her tail. “You can never tell what Twolegs will do next. Maybe it hasn’t happened yet.”

Turning away from the Thunderpath, she began to pad along the lakeshore, pausing once or twice to taste the water.

“Remember that pool with the dead rabbit?” she called over her shoulder. “How it gave all the elders a bellyache? I won’t make that mistake again. But the water here’s fine.”

When they reached the stream she checked the water there, too, before they followed it back to the RiverClan camp. She ended by taking Leafpool back to her den, where both cats drank from the little pool. The water was cool and sweet tasting, and there was no scent of anything unusual.

The sun was going down, and shadows lay thickly over the pool and stretched into Mothwing’s den. As Leafpool had feared, it was too late to go home. “Would you like to stay the night?” Mothwing offered. “You’ll never get back to ThunderClan before dark.”

“Thanks, I would.” Leafpool knew Cinderpelt would have missed her long ago, and she knew she would have to answer some awkward questions when she got back. But it would be safer to stay here for the night and go home in the early morning, especially if there might be badgers about.

A RiverClan apprentice brought Mothwing a plump fish, enough for both cats to share. As Leafpool settled down to sleep beside Mothwing in her nest of moss and bracken, she murmured, “You will remember Feathertail’s warning, won’t you? You’ll keep your eyes open for trouble?”

“What?” Mothwing muttered sleepily. “Oh, yes, Leafpool.

Of course I will. Don’t worry.”

But Leafpool couldn’t help worrying. Without having heard the warning from Feathertail herself, it would be easy for Mothwing to forget, or decide that it wasn’t important.

And Leafpool was certain that trouble was coming.

Squirrelflight paused beside a clump of bracken, drawing in the scent of the fresh green fronds. Sunlit dew sparkled on every blade of grass, and the whole forest seemed to be waking up after the long sleep of leaf-bare.

Another deep breath brought the scent of cat. Not ThunderClan, and not ShadowClan either, though she was near their border. Squirrelflight froze, glancing from side to side. A bracken frond waved, and she caught a glimpse of a strange tabby cat creeping along with its belly fur brushing the ground.

Squirrelflight thought at first that a rogue had wandered into their territory; a heartbeat later she realized it must be one of the kittypets she and Brambleclaw had fought with when they first explored the land around the lake. Their Twoleg nest was in ShadowClan’s territory, but this crowfood-eating tabby wouldn’t give a mouse tail for Clan boundaries.

Dropping into the hunter’s crouch, Squirrelflight started to creep up on it, but she hadn’t taken more than a couple of pawsteps when she heard the rest of her patrol approaching: Thornclaw, Ashfur, and Sootfur. Mousebrains ! she thought.

Clumping around like horses !

She warned them to keep back with a flick of her tail, but the tabby had already heard them. Squirrelflight saw the brown shape streak out of the middle of the bracken, and she sprang forward in pursuit. Behind her, she heard Ashfur yowl, “Hey, Squirrelflight, stop!” but she ignored him.

She dashed after the intruder, determined to give it a well-clawed ear to teach it not to come back, but the kittypet had too good a start. “Mouse dung!” she spat when she lost it in a patch of thick undergrowth. She turned back to join the rest of the patrol. To her surprise they were standing bunched together, staring at her with worried looks on their faces.

“Squirrelflight, you mousebrain!” Sootfur called out.

Before she reached the others, Brambleclaw shouldered his way through the undergrowth, with Sandstorm just behind him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“I spotted one of those kittypets from ShadowClan territory.” Squirrelflight was puzzled and angry at how hostile he sounded. What was he accusing her of now ? “We’re supposed to chase trespassers on a border patrol, right?”