Erin Hunter - Twilight

“Kits!” Cinderpelt grunted, nosing a muddy and crumpled stack of yarrow leaves. “Still, if they didn’t eat anything there’s no real harm done.”

“A lot of extra work, though,” Ashfur pointed out.

“We can manage,” Leafpool meowed sharply, and Squirrelflight glanced at her in surprise. “I’ll throw out these damaged herbs and go collect some more.”

A bolt of strong emotion made Squirrelflight’s fur stand on end. She stared at her sister. Was that guilt Leafpool was feeling? Why should she feel guilty about collecting herbs?

Even more mysteriously, mixed with the guilt there seemed to be a thrill of anticipation, and beneath it all a layer of piercing unhappiness.

Squirrelflight told herself her sister was just tired; the night before had been the half moon, when Leafpool and the other medicine cats paid their regular visit to the Moonpool.

But deep down she knew Leafpool was suffering from more than the long journey and lack of sleep. Perhaps the medicine cats had received a sign from StarClan of trouble ahead. Yet Leafpool hadn’t been her normal self for some time. In fact, she’d been as jumpy as a grasshopper since the Gathering.

“I’ll help you,” Squirrelflight offered. “Ashfur, you’d better hunt without me. I’ll join you later if I can.”

Ashfur gave her a long look. “Okay.” With a nod to Cinderpelt he left.

Squirrelflight opened her mouth to call him back, wishing she hadn’t spoken so sharply to him, but her need to talk to Leafpool was greater. Besides, perhaps it was best for them both to have some space after their quarrel.

“Which herbs do we need to throw out?” she asked her sister.

“These.” Leafpool pointed with her tail. “The rest are okay, I think.”

Squirrelflight divided the heap of bruised and dirty leaves into two bunches and picked up one of them. Cinderpelt had begun to carry the herbs and berries worth keeping back into her den. Leafpool picked up the remaining herbs and followed Squirrelflight out of the camp. They carried the leaves to the rough ground a few fox-lengths from the entrance where the cats went to make their dirt.

“It’s good to get out of there,” Squirrelflight remarked when she had finished spitting out scraps of sharp-tasting leaf. She wanted to tell Leafpool about Ashfur’s hurtful comments, but now she could see how tense and miserable Leafpool was, her quarrel didn’t seem important. “Is everything okay with you?” she asked.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Leafpool scraped the ground in front of her and sniffed at an unfurling frond of bracken.

“When Cinderpelt suggested collecting more herbs, I just thought you seemed… well, weird, sort of.” A thought struck her and she added, “You’re not worried about Brightheart, are you? I mean, you’re Cinderpelt’s real apprentice.

Brightheart is just helping out.”

Leafpool blinked. “No, of course I’m not worried about Brightheart. Look, Squirrelflight,” she went on, “we’d better split up if we’re going to collect herbs, otherwise it will take all day. I know Cinderpelt wants more catmint. Do you think you could fetch some from the abandoned Twoleg nest?”

Squirrelflight stared at her. It couldn’t be more obvious that Leafpool was trying to get rid of her. “Where are you going to go?”

“Oh… near the ShadowClan border, maybe.”

Another bolt of guilt and impatience flashed from her, making every hair on Squirrelflight’s pelt tingle. She was sure Leafpool was lying, and she clamped her teeth shut on a yowl of outrage. We never lie to each other !

“You know,” she mewed, trying to sound calm, “you are weird these days. It feels like something’s changed.”

She had meant the words as a joke, an attempt to recover the closeness to her sister that somehow seemed to have vanished. But instead of being amused, Leafpool flinched as if a bee had stung her. Her eyes narrowed.

“I’m going to collect herbs,” she meowed coldly. “I’m a medicine cat. You can’t expect to share every part of my life.”

Turning her back on her sister, she stalked off into the undergrowth.

For a few heartbeats Squirrelflight was tempted to follow her, but if Leafpool found out she would be even more furious. But Squirrelflight couldn’t just ignore her sister’s unhappiness, not when they had always meant so much to each other. She would just have to keep her eyes open and wait for the chance to discover what was wrong.

The hooting of an owl woke Squirrelflight. Faint moonlight filtered through the branches of the warriors’ den, outlining the curled-up bodies of her Clanmates. The den was filled with the warmth of their breath.

Squirrelflight’s jaws gaped in a yawn, but she didn’t feel like going back to sleep. She was wide awake now and restless.

Sliding out of her nest, being careful not to wake Ashfur, who was sleeping a tail-length away, she crept between the overhanging branches and into the clearing.

The moon, waning now to the thinnest crescent like a claw scratch in the indigo sky, shed just enough light to see the boundaries of the hollow. Clumps of bramble and fern cast dark shadows around the edges. Opposite her, beside the entrance to the thorn tunnel, Squirrelflight could just make out the pale pelt of Cloudtail, sitting on guard.

She flexed her claws, wondering whether to tell the white warrior that she felt like some night hunting. Suddenly a movement flickered in the corner of her eye, and she turned to see Leafpool emerging from the medicine cats’ den.

Squirrelflight almost called out to her. Then she realized how strangely her sister was behaving. Leafpool glanced around carefully before she crept out of the shelter of the brambles, although she clearly failed to spot her sister’s dark ginger pelt in the shadows by the warriors’ den. Then she headed around the edge of the clearing, hugging the darkness as if she were being hunted like a mouse. Her tension shivered through Squirrelflight from ears to tail-tip.

All Squirrelflight’s earlier uneasiness returned as she padded into the shadows after her sister, placing each paw silently onto the ground. She didn’t want to disturb Cloudtail or any of the other warriors until she knew what Leafpool was trying to do. Leafpool was in some kind of trouble, and this could be the chance Squirrelflight needed to find out more.

Before she reached the thorn barrier across the entrance to the hollow, and risked being seen by Cloudtail, the young medicine cat veered sharply into a clump of brambles.

Squirrelflight heard a brief thrashing and froze as Cloudtail’s head swung around, but after listening for a few moments the white warrior twitched the tip of his tail and turned back to watch the tunnel again.

Her heart pounding, Squirrelflight slipped into the brambles behind Leafpool. This was a corner of the hollow that was still too overgrown to be used for sleeping or storing fresh-kill. To her surprise, Squirrelflight saw that part of the rock wall had crumbled away here, and it wouldn’t be too difficult for an agile cat to climb right to the top of the cliff.

Leafpool had found a secret way out of the camp! It occurred to Squirrelflight that her sister must know the way very well, to have vanished already. How many times had she used this exit before?

Squirrelflight launched herself upward, fighting her way through the tendrils of bramble and sinking her claws into a straggling bush that had rooted itself in a crack. At last she scrambled over the edge of the hollow and dived for cover into the nearest clump of ferns, her ears pricked for any sound in the hollow below that might mean some cat had spotted her.

But everything was quiet, except for the rustle of wind in the branches. Gradually Squirrelflight’s racing heartbeat slowed, and she dared to poke her head out of the ferns to look around.