Erin Hunter - Dawn

“Sorreltail,” she called. “Are you okay?”

The ThunderClan warrior looked up at her, eyes huge with shock. “I’m okay,” she mewed. “Just grazed my paws.”

She began to claw her way back up the slope.

Brambleclaw came dashing across the slope, alarmed by the shower of stones Sorreltail had dislodged. “What happened?”

“I slipped, that’s all,” Sorreltail told him, though her eyes still glittered with fear.

“You have to be careful!” Brambleclaw hissed. He stopped abruptly and stared past them.

“What is it?” Leafpaw spun around, her heart thudding.

With a flood of relief she realized he had just spotted the mouse creeping out of the crack in the rock.

“Stay still,” Brambleclaw ordered in a whisper.

“But I could get it in one pounce,” Sorreltail breathed back.

“Wait,” Brambleclaw growled.

Leafpaw heard the faint beat of wings above her head.

Looking up, she saw a huge bracken-colored bird circling overhead. She gulped, wondering exactly what it had spotted as prey—the mouse, or them?

“If we’re lucky,” Brambleclaw murmured as the eagle folded its wings and swooped down toward them as swift and silent as a StarClan warrior, “it’ll go for that mouse and we’ll be able to take the Clan something big enough to share.”

“And if we’re not lucky?” muttered Sorreltail. Brambleclaw didn’t answer.

Above them, the eagle’s wings seemed to stretch wider than the river that had separated ThunderClan from RiverClan. Leafpaw fought against the urge to turn tail and run. Closer and closer the bird came, until she could see each feather on its massive wings, and its eyes gleaming like tiny black pebbles.

“Wait, wait,” Brambleclaw breathed through clenched teeth.

Just when Leafpaw could see the sinews on the bird’s yellow talons, it plummeted past them, ignoring the mouse and the three cats on the ledge. It was heading straight for the Clans in the valley below!

Brambleclaw sprang to the edge and peered over. “Look out!” he yowled.

The mass of golden-brown feathers seemed to explode among the cats, who screeched in terror as they raced in all directions. Only the warriors held their ground, leaping up on their hind legs and thrashing the air with unsheathed claws as the eagle climbed up once more, beating its powerful wings. As it began to rise into the sky, Leafpaw saw a small, struggling creature grasped in its long talons, and heard the pitiful mewls of a terrified kit. No!

“Marshkit!” Tallpoppy shrieked.

Suddenly Brackenfur sprang into the air as though lifted by the wind. With his outstretched claws he grasped the eagle’s talons a heartbeat before they rose out of reach. Yowling with rage, he clung on. The eagle screeched and shook the golden brown warrior off. Brackenfur collapsed onto the ground, but his attack had been enough to loosen the eagle’s grasp, and the kit plummeted down beside him.

Leafpaw hurled herself off the ledge, landed clumsily, and skidded down the valley. Stones tore at her claws as she slithered down. Brambleclaw and Sorreltail were scrambling behind her, zigzagging across the steep slope to stop themselves from falling headlong. But Leafpaw kept tumbling over and over. A bush broke her fall before she reached the bottom, its thin branches whipping her fur. It was enough to slow her down, and she managed to scrabble to her paws and dash across the valley floor.

“Check that Brackenfur’s okay!” Leafpaw ordered Sorreltail.

“I’ll see to Marshkit.”

Tallpoppy was crouching over the scrap of fur that lay on the stony ground. Ferncloud pressed her flank against the ShadowClan queen, trying to soothe her but understanding her terror.

Leafpaw leaned over the kit and licked his chest. She could feel his flanks heaving and his tiny heart hammering in his chest. Blood welled on his shoulder, but the cut was not deep.

“He’ll be all right,” Leafpaw promised. “As long as we keep him warm, he’ll survive the shock.” She looked up and was relieved to see Cinderpelt limping toward her.

“Lick the wound as clean as you can,” Cinderpelt ordered.

“We have precious few herbs to cure him if it gets infected.”

Leafpaw obeyed immediately, tasting the salty tang of the kit’s blood on her tongue.

Tallpoppy pulled her remaining kits close to her, shaking with fear. “Where have you brought us?” she yowled, looking around to find the cats who had led them into the mountain.

“I didn’t think an eagle would attack so many!” Squirrelpaw gasped as she bounded across the valley floor.

“Did you know this might happen?” Blackstar demanded furiously.

“We knew eagles preyed upon the Tribe, but they always fought them off,” Squirrelpaw mewed wretchedly.

“We are not the Tribe,” Blackstar hissed. “You should have warned us so that we could have found shelter.”

“What shelter?” Tallpoppy cried. “There’s nowhere to hide.

There’s nowhere to hunt. We’re the prey here!”

“It’s true,” Dawnflower mewed, her voice rising in panic.

“We’ll be picked off one by one.”

“Not if we stick together,” Dustpelt argued.

“Yes,” Russetfur agreed. “Next time, we’ll be more prepared.”

“If another bird attacks, we’ll drive it off before if gets close to the kits,” Hawkfrost promised.

“Ten Clans couldn’t drive off a bird like that!” Tallpoppy yowled.

“Maybe not,” Leopardstar meowed. “But any cat here would die trying, for the sake of our kits.” Her gaze flicked around the Clans, and mews of agreement rose from every warrior and apprentice.

Leafpaw blinked. There were no longer four Clans making this perilous journey. There was just one Clan, bound by fear and helplessness. She left Marshkit with Tallpoppy. Littlecloud was with them now.

“Is Brackenfur okay?” she called, padding to where Sorreltail was sitting beside the golden warrior.

“I’m fine,” Brackenfur meowed, pushing himself to his paws.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sorreltail promised.

Leafpaw padded over and touched her sister’s flank with her nose. “Surely it can’t get any worse?” she murmured.

Squirrelpaw stared back wordlessly, her eyes clouded with doubt. In desperation Leafpaw turned her gaze toward the sky, praying for the protection of StarClan, wondering if her prayer would reach their ancestors through the snow-laden clouds.

As if in reply, the first freezing flakes began to fall.

Squirrelpaw glimpsed movement on the ledge above. She stopped, her paws sinking into the banked snow, and glanced up. A falcon was feasting on a shrew a few tail-lengths up the rocky outcrop. Squirrelpaw knew her ginger pelt must stand out like a sunset in a pale sky, and she stood motionless, hoping that the falcon hadn’t noticed her.

The snow felt soothing against her raw pads. She wondered if she had the power to leap up the short distance and catch the falcon. Probably not. The past few days had sapped her strength until she almost couldn’t be bothered to hunt at all.

The falcon flattened the shrew against the rock and stooped to pull the flesh from it. Squirrelpaw felt a wrench of envy as hunger clawed at her belly. Slow as melting ice, she prowled forward, praying the thickly falling snow would camouflage her pelt.

She had to catch some prey. The cold would start killing cats faster than any eagle if the Clans grew any hungrier.

Despite their bold promises to Tallpoppy, the shock of losing Smokepaw and then nearly losing Marshkit had shaken the confidence of even the strongest warriors. Squirrelpaw felt a flood of regret so strong it stopped her in her tracks. She had helped to lead the Clans to their death. She was not even sure she would be able to find her way back to them if she caught the falcon. She knew only that they were somewhere near, huddled in the snow, praying to StarClan for deliverance.