Erin Hunter - Twilight

Her eyes flew open and she let out a gasp of terror. A tabby head was a mouse-length away from hers, amber eyes staring down at her.

“Are you okay?” Brambleclaw meowed.

Leafpool scrambled into a sitting position, scattering scraps of moss. She was in her nest outside Cinderpelt’s den.

The creamy light of dawn was seeping into the sky above the trees.

“Leafpool?” Brambleclaw sounded concerned. His pelt was ruffled, with bits of bracken sticking to it, as if he had only recently roused from his own nest in the warriors’ den.

“Is something the matter? I heard you cry out.”

“What? No—no, I’m fine.” Leafpool stared uncertainly up at Brambleclaw. Had he come to tell her that he’d seen her in his dream?

“Firestar is choosing cats to go to the Gathering tonight,” he meowed, yawning. “Are you fit to come? I know you had a long journey yesterday.”

Relief swept through Leafpool from ears to tail-tip. If Brambleclaw had really had the same dream, he hadn’t noticed her in the shadows. But her relief faded as she wondered if he had chosen to visit his father in the dark forest.

What was Tigerstar going to make him do to become Clan leader?

She got up, still feeling shaky but determined to hide it.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Tell Firestar I’d like to come.”

Brambleclaw dipped his head and backed away. Leafpool took a few deep breaths before giving her pelt a quick grooming. She had completely forgotten that this was the night of the full moon. Even though her pelt prickled with fear, she wanted to watch Hawkfrost and Brambleclaw together.

Would they give away what was happening as they slept?

How often had Tigerstar called them to him in dreams before now?

Leafpool knew there was no cat she could ask for advice.

Firestar and Cinderpelt both took her dreams from StarClan very seriously, but this dream was different. She didn’t dare tell them about it; she was terrified of what the dream might mean, for she had never heard of any other medicine cat walking where she had walked. In that forest, she had felt farther than ever from her warrior ancestors. If she lost touch with them altogether, would she be condemned to wander forever in that dark place, and never find her way back to the light?

Even though it was very early, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now. Cinderpelt was still in her den, so Leafpool decided to go out and look for herbs. They could do with more borage leaves, especially if Mousefur was feverish.

She knew a patch of borage grew close to the abandoned Twoleg nest. Leafpool slipped out of the camp and padded along the disused path. The gray, cloudy weather had given way to sunlight that shone warmly on her fur. Green shoots were thrusting up through the ground. Buds were swelling on the trees and birds sang above Leafpool’s head, promising plentiful fresh-kill as newleaf approached. The forest couldn’t have been more different from the dark place of her dream, yet Leafpool could not shake off the terror, and found herself glancing over her shoulder at every pawstep.

Her pelt crawled when she came in sight of the tumbledown nest, with shadowy holes in its sides like eyes staring at her. Then she braced herself and padded more boldly through the trees, sniffing for the borage she had come to collect. What was there to be frightened of here, for a cat who had walked in Tigerstar’s forest?

She was on her way back, carrying a satisfying clump of fragrant borage leaves, when she spotted a flash of pale fur behind a clump of bracken. Curious, she circled the bracken and found herself on the edge of the mossy clearing where the cats went for battle training. Cloudtail was there with Daisy, standing over her with his ears pricked.

“No,” he meowed. “You’ve got to hit me. Hard.”

Daisy blinked at him with limpid blue eyes. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

Cloudtail’s tail curled up. “Don’t worry, you won’t. Come on, try again.”

The horse place cat gave him a doubtful look, then ran at him, flashing out a paw as she went past. Cloudtail dodged aside and hooked out Daisy’s paws from under her so that she sprawled on the grass in a tangle of legs and fluffy tail.

“That’s not fair !” she wailed. “You never said you were going to do that.”

“Oh, right.” Cloudtail couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice. “Do you think in the thick of a battle an enemy warrior will come up and say, ‘Be careful, I’m going to push you over now?’”

Daisy lashed her tail. “It’s not like I’ll ever need to fight.”

“You might.” Cloudtail’s gaze was serious now. “If another Clan attacked us—or other creatures like foxes or dogs—you need to know how to defend yourself. If you don’t, you could get really hurt.”

“Oh, all right.” Daisy gave her creamy chest fur a couple of licks. “Show me again what I’ve got to do.”

Leafpool thought Cloudtail had a tough task ahead of him if he was going to turn this kittypet into a competent warrior.

Daisy didn’t seem to have any fighting instinct at all. But the white warrior seemed willing to teach her. Leafpool remembered how he had shown infinite patience with Brightheart after the she-cat had been attacked by the dogs, and needed to learn a whole new way of fighting and hunting. Perhaps he would be able to teach Daisy to be a warrior too.

Thinking about Brightheart made Leafpool want to get back to camp. She still didn’t like the way the ginger and white she-cat was taking over all her duties.

She waved her tail in greeting as she padded past Cloudtail and Daisy; as she left the clearing she heard Cloudtail meowing, “This time try to pretend I’m a badger and I’m going to eat your kits.”

“But my kits really like you,” Daisy protested.

More warriors were up and about by the time Leafpool reached the stone hollow. She nodded to Sandstorm, who was leading Spiderleg and Thornclaw out on a hunting patrol, then she went to find Cinderpelt in her den. But it was Brightheart, not Cinderpelt, who came out to meet her.

“Borage!” the ginger and white she-cat exclaimed.

“Thanks, Leafpool. We have hardly any left, and Mousefur’s fever isn’t down yet.” As soon as Leafpool put down the borage at the mouth of the den, she grabbed up a couple of the stalks and hurried toward the clump of fern and bramble where the elders slept beneath the twisted branches of a hazel bush.

Leafpool let out a hiss of annoyance and slashed at the nearest bramble with her paw. Brightheart was behaving as if she were the medicine cat, and Leafpool just her helper.

“What’s the matter?” Cinderpelt emerged from the mouth of her den, gave the remaining borage an appreciative sniff, then limped across to join Leafpool.

Leafpool shrugged. “Just too many medicine cats around here,” she muttered.

Cinderpelt’s blue gaze rested on her. Leafpool looked up and saw wisdom and compassion there, and something deeper she could not name. “Be patient with Brightheart,” the medicine cat mewed. “Everything has changed for her.”

More quietly she added, “The greatest gift we could ask for is the courage to accept what StarClan sends us, however hard it seems.”

Leafpool was surprised to see a flash of sadness in her mentor’s face. She wanted to ask Cinderpelt what she was talking about, but she was afraid of the answer. Was she just talking about Brightheart, and the courage she had shown in accepting her disfigured face? Or was she trying to tell Leafpool that she wasn’t needed anymore, now that Brightheart had begun to take on the role of medicine cat?

Before she could summon the courage to say anything, Cinderpelt disappeared back inside her den. Leafpool was about to follow her when she saw Cloudtail push his way through the thorn tunnel with Daisy just behind him. Daisy’s kits, who were tumbling together at the entrance to the nursery, sprang up and scampered across the clearing to fling themselves on Cloudtail. The white warrior toppled onto his side and wrestled with the kits in a play fight, his claws carefully sheathed.