Erin Hunter - Twilight

“But we should warn our Clan leaders to be alert for danger.”

Cinderpelt dipped her head approvingly. “Good idea.”

“But what sort of danger?” Barkface asked with a twitch of his whiskers. “WindClan hasn’t seen much that could threaten us since we moved in, unless you count the fox, and that was quickly dealt with.”

“We had the problem with the Twoleg poison,” meowed Mothwing. Glancing at Leafpool, she added, “But StarClan sent a special warning about that.”

“And we had trouble with the kittypets.” Littlecloud nodded to Cinderpelt. “ThunderClan helped us sort that out, so StarClan wouldn’t still be sending dreams about it.”

“There must be another danger,” Cinderpelt decided.

“Something that hasn’t come yet, and something that could affect every Clan.”

“All of us must keep watch for signs,” Barkface rumbled.

“Maybe by the time of the half moon StarClan will have shown us something more.”

His words were the signal for them to leave. The clearing was almost empty as the last of the cats made their way out through the bushes. Leafpool emerged to find the stretch of shore beside the tree bridge crowded with cats milling around the roots, waiting for their turn to cross.

Leafpool let her gaze travel over them; when she spotted Crowfeather, she felt as if a bolt of lightning had ripped through her fur.

The WindClan warrior sprang nimbly onto the tree trunk and began making his way to the shore, balancing easily with his tail straight up in the air. Leafpool hardly knew how she stopped her paws from dashing after him, even though they were surrounded by cats from every Clan.

StarClan, help me ! she begged. I don’t know what to do !

“Daisy! Daisy, where are you?”

Squirrelflight stopped and looked around when she heard the furious yowl that came from the medicine cats’ den. A moment later Brightheart appeared, carrying one of Daisy’s kits by the scruff. The tiny creature was wailing miserably, his paws thrashing the air. His littermates crept out after them, heads down and tails drooping, and huddled together beside the brambles that shielded the den.

The horse place cat had been in camp long enough for her kits to grow stronger and more confident, and to begin exploring the camp. And that was likely to mean trouble; Squirrelflight’s whiskers twitched as she remembered some of the things she and Leafpool had got up to before they were apprenticed.

Brightheart dropped the kit she was carrying—it was Mousekit, Squirrelflight realized, taking a closer look. The ginger and white she-cat’s good eye was blazing with anger.

“Daisy! Come here!”

There was no response from the nursery, but a heartbeat later Daisy appeared from the thorn tunnel and raced across the camp to confront Brightheart. Cloudtail followed her more slowly.

“What’s the matter? What are you doing to my kits?”

Daisy demanded.

“Ask your kits what they’ve been doing in Cinderpelt’s den,” Brightheart retorted. “And stop making that noise,” she added to the kit she had dropped, who was still wailing, his tiny pink jaws gaping wide. “I haven’t hurt you.”

“What happened?” Daisy’s blue eyes were just as furious, and her long, creamy fur couldn’t hide the tension in her muscles. For a moment Squirrelflight thought she might fly at Brightheart with one of the fighting moves Cloudtail had been teaching her. Squirrelflight knew Brightheart could look after herself, but Daisy might not get away unscratched.

She padded over in case some cat was needed to stop the fur flying.

“Your kits came into Cinderpelt’s den and started messing with the herbs,” Brightheart explained. “Did you eat anything?” she hissed, rounding on Berrykit and Hazelkit. “Any of you?”

Mute with terror, the kits shook their heads. Squirrelflight knew that part of Brightheart’s anger was fueled by fear that the kits might have eaten something dangerous. Cinderpelt wouldn’t keep anything like deathberries among her supplies, but there were plenty of remedies that could give a cat a nasty bellyache if they ate too much.

Brightheart’s fur began to lie flat again, but annoyance still crackled off her like lightning in greenleaf. “Just go and look at the mess they’ve made,” she meowed to Daisy. “Why weren’t you keeping an eye on them?”

“She was with me,” Cloudtail meowed.

“And that makes it okay for her kits to spoil Cinderpelt’s supplies?” Brightheart challenged him.

“They didn’t know any better.”

“Then they should!” Brightheart snarled back at her mate.

“Do you think we have nothing better to do than clean up after them? I spent all day yesterday collecting berries.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Daisy mewed, glancing uneasily from Cloudtail to Brightheart and back again. She nudged Mousekit to his paws and collected the others with a sweep of her tail. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“You do that,” Brightheart snapped.

The horse place cat headed back to the nursery, herding her kits in front of her. Squirrelflight heard Mousekit complain, “That ugly cat frightened me!”

“Then you shouldn’t get into trouble,” Daisy replied.

Squirrelflight saw Brightheart flinch at what Mousekit said. She and Cloudtail were nose to nose, their tail-tips twitching back and forth.

“I’ll help clean up,” Squirrelflight offered, backing around the brambles. She didn’t want to get involved in a quarrel between Brightheart and her mate.

When she turned around she saw why Brightheart had been so angry. Berries were scattered all over the ground at the mouth of the den, and herbs lay in untidy clumps. Some of the leaves had been torn off their stems and were covered in dirt; they would probably have to be thrown out.

Squirrelflight began to roll the berries that could be salvaged into a pile. She wondered where Leafpool and Cinderpelt had gone. After a few moments she heard another cat padding up behind her.

“There you are!” meowed Ashfur, touching his nose to her shoulder. “I thought we were going hunting. Why are Cloudtail and Brightheart glaring at each other like a couple of badgers?”

Squirrelflight went on sorting berries as she explained.

“Clanborn kits would know not to do this sort of thing,” Ashfur commented. “Maybe these kittypets will never settle here properly.”

“ What did you say?” Squirrelflight spun around to face him.

“Have you forgotten that my father was a kittypet?”

Ashfur blinked. “I’m sorry. But Firestar’s pretty special.

Most kittypets couldn’t live our sort of life. They need their Twolegs to look after them.”

Squirrelflight let out a furious hiss, and her claws slid out; it took a massive effort to shield them again and go on sorting berries. How dare Ashfur make judgments based on a cat’s birth ? she fumed. Did that mean he thought less of her because she was half kittypet? Couldn’t he see that she and Leafpool, Cloudtail, and his kit Whitepaw were as important to the Clan as any warrior who was forestborn through and through?

Before Ashfur could say anything else, the bramble screen shook as Leafpool and Cinderpelt brushed past. Both medicine cats carried large bunches of chickweed.

“What’s going on here?” Cinderpelt asked, dropping her mouthful.

Squirrelflight explained what had happened for the second time, while Leafpool began examining the scattered leaves and piling up the ones that would have to be thrown out.