Erin Hunter - Dawn

“Didn’t you hear or smell the monster and warn him?”

Firestar’s question was filled more with sorrow than accusation.

Thornclaw miserably shook his head. “With prey so scarce, the hunting is better if we split up. I wasn’t close enough to see what was going on.”

Firestar dipped his head, understanding.

“I’ll sit with him.” Whitepaw’s young voice sounded over the beating of the rain. Shrewpaw had been her denmate since kithood, and the sorrow of losing him glistened in her green eyes. “I don’t care if we’ve been driven out of our camp.

We can still hold a vigil.”

“I’ll join you,” Thornclaw croaked. He leaned down and pressed his nose against Shrewpaw’s bloody flank.

The other cats began filing past to bid farewell to their young Clanmate. When it came to her turn, Squirrelpaw stooped low over Shrewpaw’s body, her heart aching. “You were an apprentice in ThunderClan, but you’ll be a warrior with StarClan,” she whispered.

She turned away and padded down the slope toward the shelter of the trees, her sadness feeling like part of the rain and tiredness that seemed to seep right through to her bones.

She spotted Brambleclaw sitting beneath a larch tree, watching her.

“I can’t believe Shrewpaw is dead.” She sighed.

“I know,” Brambleclaw murmured, entwining his tail with hers.

Squirrelpaw leaned closer to him. “Ferncloud is heart-broken.”

“She will find comfort in having the rest of her Clan around her.” Brambleclaw sighed.

Squirrelpaw couldn’t help feeling that he was talking about more than Ferncloud’s grief.

“After all, the Clan means more to a cat than real kin,” he went on.

“Even Tawnypelt?”

“She is with ShadowClan now. My loyalty to her comes second to ThunderClan, and she understands that.”

“And what about Hawkfrost and Mothwing? Do you feel anything for them, now that you know you share the same father?”

“Knowing we share the same father doesn’t change anything,” Brambleclaw went on. “I am nothing like Hawkfrost.”

The tip of his tail twitched anxiously. “Am I?”

“Of course not,” Squirrelpaw replied hotly. “No cat would think you are.”

“Even when they find out what we have in common?”

“ThunderClan will always think of you as a brave warrior, loyal to his Clan,” Squirrelpaw reassured him.

“Thank you.” He gave her a quick lick on the cheek before getting to his paws and moving away toward the river.

Squirrelpaw followed, keeping pace with him until he sat down and stared across the border into RiverClan territory.

Squirrelpaw followed his gaze. The river carved its way though the small glade, its surface shattered by the pouring rain. She peered closer and blinked. “Look, Brambleclaw!” she mewed in surprise. “Look at the river!”

“What about it?”

“Do you remember when Hawkfrost and Sasha waded across it earlier?”

“Yes.” Brambleclaw twitched his ear. “So?”

“Well, they waded across it,” Squirrelpaw repeated. “They didn’t swim; they waded .”

Brambleclaw looked baffled.

“Look at the stepping-stones!” Squirrelpaw jumped up and pointed with her tail. “They’re sticking right out of the water. After rain like this, in the middle of leaf-bare, they should be nearly covered.”

“You’re right.” Brambleclaw sat up.

“Surely the river shouldn’t be this shallow?”

“Well, it’s been quite dry lately,” Brambleclaw commented.

“Not that dry,” she argued. “It’s been pouring all day today, but the river’s not swollen at all. Something must be wrong.”

“Like what?”

Just then a familiar voice called from the bank opposite, “What are you two up to?”

Stormfur appeared and waded across the stream. “Are you finding it as hard as I am, being cooped up in camp after our journey?”

“Yes. Everything is harder. Shrewpaw died,” Squirrelpaw told him sadly. “Whitepaw’s sitting vigil.” Suddenly she wondered if they should be back at camp, mourning their lost Clanmate. She glanced at Brambleclaw, who seemed to understand her anxiety.

“We’ll join them soon,” he promised.

“Do you want me to catch you a fish to take back?” Stormfur offered.

“The Clan needs all the fresh-kill they can get,” Brambleclaw meowed. “But I don’t think they’d accept it.”

“Are you sure?” Stormfur asked. “They’re easy to catch now that the water’s dropped.”

“So I was right. The level is lower than usual,” Squirrelpaw mewed, gazing again at the shallow stream. “Is something wrong?”

Stormfur shrugged. “Just a dry spell. This rain will get it flowing again.”

Squirrelpaw picked up a trace of Sasha’s stale scent on the breeze. She glanced at Stormfur; the mystery of the river seemed suddenly less important than how the rest of RiverClan felt about the rogue she-cat who seemed to come and go as she wished—and whose kits had so much influence in their adopted Clan. “We saw Sasha this morning,” she began.

“You know Sasha?” Stormfur looked surprised. “Oh, I forgot. You met her when you rescued Mistyfoot, didn’t you?

When… when my father was taken.”

His voice trailed away, and Squirrelpaw pressed her flank against his. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured helplessly.

Stormfur nudged her with his nose. “So am I. I wish I could have been there to help,” he meowed. “But my father made his own decision to help the trapped cats.” He took a deep breath before he went on. “Thanks to him we got Mistyfoot back. The whole of RiverClan were amazed when she showed up.”

“Hawkfrost especially, I’m sure,” Brambleclaw commented. Squirrelpaw shot him a warning glance. Hawkfrost had been made deputy when Mistyfoot disappeared, which meant he might not have welcomed Mistyfoot back with the same enthusiasm as every other cat, but was Brambleclaw giving away too much interest in Sasha’s kit? They couldn’t be sure how much Stormfur knew about Hawkfrost’s parentage.

“Well, I doubt he wanted to stop being deputy quite so soon,” Stormfur agreed. “But he welcomed her return as much as any cat. He’s a good warrior. He knows he’ll be deputy one day, and he doesn’t mind waiting.”

“He sounds very confident,” Squirrelpaw remarked carefully.

“He’s always been like that,” Stormfur replied. “What’s more important is that he’s totally loyal to the Clan, and sticks to the warrior code like a caterpillar to a leaf.”

Squirrelpaw blinked. Somehow she didn’t think Stormfur had the faintest idea of who Hawkfrost’s father was. She looked at Brambleclaw, trying to read his reaction, but Brambleclaw had something else on his mind.

“Do you think there’s any chance Leopardstar will change her mind about leaving the forest?”

“Leopardstar says she’s not going anywhere as long as there’s fish in the river,” Stormfur told him.

“Doesn’t she care about the Clans staying together?”

Squirrelpaw demanded.

“She did ask Mudfur if he’d had any sign from StarClan, just to be sure,” Stormfur told her defensively. “But Mudfur hasn’t left his nest much recently.”

“So he’s had no sign either?” Squirrelpaw asked, disappointed.

“Nothing.” Stormfur sighed. “It looks like the sign Midnight promised us isn’t going to come, now that the Twolegs have destroyed Fourtrees.”

“Perhaps we’ve seen the sign but just not realized what it was,” Squirrelpaw wondered out loud.

“Well, we’ve seen plenty of dying since we got back,” Brambleclaw muttered darkly. “Not just warriors, but kits and apprentices, too. But you know what? I’m beginning to think that no cat’s going to show us the way. Wherever we’re going, we’ll have to find our own way there.”