Erin Hunter - Twilight

Leafpool froze. This wasn’t her dream! Why had StarClan not shown these images to her as well? Was it because she was keeping Mothwing’s secret? But Feathertail came to me , she thought confusedly. If StarClan were angry about Mothwing, she would have told me .

Maybe this had nothing to do with Mothwing. Perhaps StarClan had noticed Leafpool’s feelings for Crowfeather.

Was she becoming less of a medicine cat because she loved the gray warrior? But that’s not fair ! she wailed inwardly. I haven’t even spoken to him since that night by the hollow .

“What do you think, Leafpool?” Cinderpelt broke in on her thoughts.

Leafpool started. “I… I’m not sure.” Does Mothwing feel like this when she’s asked about StarClan ? she wondered. Always needing to pretend ?

Mothwing stretched her jaws in an enormous yawn.

“StarClan must be warning us about something,” she meowed.

Leafpool glanced at her in surprise. But it wasn’t difficult to guess that from what the others had said. Did Mothwing assume it was the same as Feathertail’s warning? But that had been for RiverClan alone, whereas this prophecy had come to the three other Clans.

Cinderpelt bowed her head. “We must think about this,” she mewed. “If there is danger ahead, StarClan will show us more.”

“Let’s talk about this again when we meet next time,” Littlecloud suggested. “Maybe by then everything will be clearer.”

“Good idea,” Barkface grunted. “StarClan certainly weren’t giving much away tonight.”

“Don’t forget our warrior ancestors have to settle into a new home as much as we do,” Cinderpelt added. “Maybe that makes it harder for them to reach us.”

That was possible, Leafpool thought hopefully. But it didn’t explain why she had dreamed something totally different from the others.

The medicine cats followed the spiral path out of the bowl and pushed through the barrier of bushes. As they made their way down the hill, Cinderpelt, Littlecloud, and Barkface drew ahead, murmuring anxiously as if it was too hard to keep to their agreement of waiting until next time to discuss the dream. Mothwing and Leafpool padded side by side behind them.

“Did you tell Leopardstar about my dream?” Leafpool asked her friend, quietly, so the other cats wouldn’t hear.

Mothwing gave her a startled glance. “No, how could I? I couldn’t admit that StarClan had sent me a message through another Clan’s medicine cat.”

“But you could have said it was your own dream.” Leafpool touched the golden tabby’s shoulder with her tail-tip. “I wouldn’t mind. Leopardstar ought to know, so she can tell the warriors to keep a lookout for anything suspicious.”

Mothwing’s tail lashed once. “I can’t , Leafpool. I’ve never told Leopardstar about a dream before this, and I probably never will again. It wasn’t my dream. I just don’t have prophetic dreams from StarClan.” Her voice quieter and more troubled, she went on, “I have to find my own way of being a medicine cat, without StarClan. Trust me, Leafpool. I want nothing more than to care for my Clan, but it has to be on my own terms.”

Leafpool eyed her friend doubtfully. Silverpelt blazed across the sky above them; how could Mothwing see the shining spirits of their ancestors and not believe in them? She knew Mothwing worked hard at her healing skills, and truly cared for her Clan, but without that belief she could not lap from the spring of strength and wisdom that came from StarClan. Her own faith was so important to Leafpool that she couldn’t imagine being a medicine cat without it.

“But if you don’t believe—” she began, then stopped and struggled to figure out what she really wanted to say.

“Mothwing, do you believe I had a dream where Feathertail warned me about trouble in your Clan?”

Mothwing gazed at Leafpool with eyes that gleamed pale in the moonlight. “Yes, I believe you had a dream.”

That’s no answer , Leafpool thought frustratedly. But then she realized that it might be the best answer her friend could give. And what right did she have to criticize, when she seemed to be losing her own connection to StarClan?

“It’ll be okay,” Mothwing reassured her. “I’m checking all the water sources regularly, and when I go out gathering herbs I keep my eyes open for anything to do with Twolegs.”

A flick of her tail told Leafpool she didn’t want to talk about the warning anymore. “What about ThunderClan? Is everything okay with you?”

“Fine, thanks. We’ve just made a new apprentice—Birchpaw. You’ll be seeing him at a Gathering before long, I expect.”

“That’s great. Who’s his mentor?”

“Ashfur.” Leafpool broke off as a hiss came out of the darkness. Her pelt pricked with the sense of danger.

“What was that?” Mothwing whispered.

They had reached the border of WindClan territory. The moorland stretched away from them on all sides, dotted with outcrops of rock and stunted thorn trees. Deep shadows lay in the hollows.

The hiss came again. “Leafpool!”

Leafpool relaxed as a lean gray shape slid out from behind the nearest rock and a familiar scent flooded over her.

“Crowfeather!” she exclaimed. “You scared me out of my fur!”

“Sorry,” the WindClan warrior muttered. He gave Mothwing a searching stare. “I want a word with Leafpool, if you don’t mind.”

Mothwing looked surprised, and hesitated as if she were about to object. Then she nodded and let out a faint, knowing mrrow . Leafpool felt her skin under her fur flush hot with embarrassment.

“Sure,” Mothwing murmured. “See you soon, Leafpool.”

She turned and vanished downhill into the darkness.

Leafpool almost called her back. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with Crowfeather. “This isn’t right,” she began, taking a pace back.

“I knew you’d come this way,” Crowfeather meowed urgently. “I followed Barkface’s scent trail, and then I waited for you. Leafpool, we have to talk. I can’t forget that night outside your camp.”

“I know, but—”

Crowfeather interrupted. “At first I thought you felt the same way as I do. But then you avoided me at the Gathering, and I don’t understand why.” His claws raked the tough moorland turf. “I can’t get you out of my head, Leafpool. The other day I missed a rabbit that practically leapt into my paws. I keep making mistakes—”

“I’m doing the same thing!” Leafpool exclaimed. “I tried to give Firestar nettle seed instead of poppy, and I mixed up ointment of yarrow and mouse bile. That was so mousebrained!”

The WindClan warrior twitched his whiskers. “Ashfoot said I was as daft as a new apprentice.”

“Cinderpelt got cross with me, too.”

“Leafpool, I know you feel the same as I do,” Crowfeather meowed. “Somehow we have to be together.”

His scent, his nearness was doing something to Leafpool’s insides. She felt as if she were melting like ice in newleaf. “But I’m a medicine cat,” she protested, struggling against the urge to press her muzzle into his fur. “And I’m from another Clan.

There isn’t any future for us, Crowfeather.”

Amber eyes burnt into hers. “Leafpool, do you want to be with me as much as I want to be with you?”

Leafpool knew what her answer should have been, but she couldn’t lie to him. “Yes, I do.”

“Then there must be a way. Will you meet me again?

Somewhere we can talk properly?”

Leafpool dug her claws into the ground. Surely this couldn’t be wrong, this overwhelming need to be with Crowfeather?

StarClan couldn’t be so cruel as to deny her this. “Yes, I will,” she whispered. “Where?”