Erin Hunter - Twilight

Squirrelflight gave her ear a last reassuring lick. “I’ll come straight back,” she promised.

Not caring if any cat from either Clan saw her, she raced for the border and back toward the ThunderClan camp.

ThunderClan had to help! They hadn’t come this far to watch another Clan be driven out by a couple of kittypets.

When she came in sight of the barrier of thorns she slowed down, getting her breath back so she could tell Firestar exactly what was going on. To her relief her father was one of the first cats she saw when she pushed her way through the tunnel. He was crouched near the fresh-kill pile, sharing a vole with Sandstorm. Dustpelt and Ashfur sat close by, talking with their heads close together. A few tail-lengths away, Brambleclaw was eating alone, devouring a wood pigeon with swift, hungry bites.

Squirrelflight raced over. “I’ve just seen Tawnypelt.” She reported what the ShadowClan warrior had told her.

“They’re being terrorized by those two bits of fox dung,” she finished breathlessly. “I told Tawnypelt we’d come and help.”

“You’d no business telling her any such thing,” Dustpelt growled.

Squirrelflight bristled, but Firestar gestured with his tail for her to keep silent. “It’s true each Clan should fend for themselves,” he agreed. “That’s part of the warrior code. But how far would we have gotten if we’d tried to follow the code when the Twolegs were tearing up the forest? Their monsters would have killed us all.”

“Then you’ll let us help?” Squirrelflight asked eagerly.

“Don’t forget I spotted that tabby brute on our territory first.

We could have trouble with them ourselves if we don’t do something to stop them.”

“I’ll go.”

Squirrelflight jumped when Brambleclaw spoke behind her. She hadn’t noticed that he had come over to listen.

Firestar twitched his ears at the tabby warrior. “I haven’t said yet that any cat is going.”

“I’m not sure we should,” Dustpelt meowed. “We’re still recovering from the journey, one of our medicine cats is already away helping another Clan… You can’t take every cat’s troubles on your shoulders, Firestar.”

“No, but we can try,” Sandstorm pointed out, giving him a long gaze from her pale green eyes. “An apprentice was killed, Squirrelflight says. What if that had been Birchpaw?”

The question silenced Dustpelt.

“Then you’ll send a patrol?” Brambleclaw prompted.

“Tawnypelt’s my sister. I’d fight StarClan for her, never mind a couple of kittypets.”

“So would I,” Squirrelflight added. “We journeyed with Tawnypelt. We can’t just ignore this!”

Brambleclaw’s eyes narrowed as he focused on something behind her, and she turned to see Ashfur coming over, looking troubled. He padded up to her and touched her muzzle with his nose.

“We have to help ShadowClan,” she meowed, worried that he would disapprove. “You do see that, don’t you?”

“I understand why you feel like this,” he replied. “You’re loyal to your friends. I wouldn’t want you to be anything else.”

Squirrelflight felt a purr rise in her throat. She pressed herself against Ashfur’s shoulder, aware of Brambleclaw standing rigid on her other side.

“Very well,” Firestar meowed. “We’ll send a patrol.

Brambleclaw, you can lead it, but you’re to speak to Blackstar before you do anything. And come straight back if he doesn’t want you on his territory. Understood?”

“Yes, Firestar.”

“Squirrelflight, you’d better join him. You’ll go anyway, so you may as well have permission.”

Squirrelflight’s tail curled up. “Thanks, Firestar!”

“Pick a few more cats to go with you, Brambleclaw,” the Clan leader went on, “then you can leave at once.”

Brambleclaw nodded and ran across the clearing to the warriors’ den, vanishing between the branches.

“I’ll go too,” Ashfur volunteered.

“No, I don’t think so,” Firestar meowed, and as the gray warrior looked crestfallen, he added, “I heard you promise to take Birchpaw hunting. You don’t want to disappoint him, do you?”

Ashfur sighed and murmured, “Of course not, Firestar.”

Squirrelflight figured Brambleclaw wasn’t likely to choose him to be a part of his patrol anyway. Her claws scraped the ground impatiently as she waited for the tabby warrior to come back.

“I suppose it’s no good telling you to be careful,” Ashfur meowed despondently.

Squirrelflight touched his shoulder with the tip of her tail.

“Don’t worry about me,” she mewed. She remembered her first fight with the kittypets—she should have known they would cause more trouble! The fur on her shoulders rose at the prospect of revenge. “We’ll be fine,” she promised Ashfur.

“We’re going to make those kittypets wish they’d never heard of the Clans!”

Brambleclaw reappeared from the den with Brackenfur, Thornclaw, Cloudtail, and Rainwhisker behind him. Squirrelflight dashed across to join them.

“Good luck!” Ashfur called.

Squirrelflight waved her tail in farewell. Once through the thorn tunnel, she joined Brambleclaw at the head of the patrol.

“Tawnypelt should be waiting where I left her,” she meowed. “She can take us to Blackstar.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “Okay. You lead the way, then.”

He kept pace with her as she trotted through the trees, not racing at top speed because they had a long way to go and had to be fit to fight when they got there.

“What’s the plan?” Thornclaw asked.

“There isn’t one,” Brambleclaw replied. “We’ll tell Blackstar that we’ve come to help and are willing to do whatever he wants. If he wants us to stay, we’ll work out a plan with him and his warriors.”

Tawnypelt was sitting close to the border, crouched under a brittle clump of bracken that hid her pale fur. She sprang to her paws, relief showing in her eyes when she saw her brother and the strong force of cats he had brought with him.

“See?” Squirrelflight meowed. “I told you Firestar would send help.”

Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt touched noses. “Take us to Blackstar,” Brambleclaw meowed.

Tawnypelt turned and led the way swiftly through the undergrowth, deeper into ShadowClan territory. Soon the leafless trees gave way to dark pines, shutting out most of the light, and the ground underpaw grew soft with a covering of fallen needles. They splashed through a stream, the water running cold and shallow over a stony bed, and up a gentle slope on the other side. Gradually the scent of ShadowClan grew stronger, and Squirrelflight realized they were approaching the camp.

The ground sloped more steeply here, with rocks jutting out of the covering of fallen pine needles. At the top of the rise the trees grew more thickly, guarding the edge of a wide, shallow dip almost filled with bushes. Squirrelflight recognized the place she and her friends had discovered when they first explored the territory. Back then, no cat had expected that the kittypets would be a problem, but now she wondered whether ShadowClan had made their camp too close to the Twoleg nest.

Although the scent of fear and injury wafting from the camp almost took her breath away, Squirrelflight couldn’t spot any cats at first. But as they waited at the edge of the hollow, branches rustled beneath them and Blackstar appeared. He climbed up in a couple of bounds, his fur bristling.

“What’s going on?” he demanded. “ThunderClan cats in my territory? Tawnypelt, what do you know about this?”