Erin Hunter - Starlight

Finally Tallpoppy dipped her head and gathered her three kits around her with a sweep of her tail. “Say good-bye now,” she mewed briskly.

“Good-bye,” Toadkit and Marshkit chorused, while Applekit darted up to Birchkit and touched her nose to his.

“Good-bye.” Birchkit stared after his friends as they padded away, and then turned to follow his mother, his tail drooping.

Leafpaw felt her heart ache for the lonely kit, and for all the cats who would miss friends they had made in other Clans. A couple of tail-lengths away she spotted Thornclaw saying good-bye to Ashfoot and Onewhisker from WindClan; he jumped guiltily when he saw Leafpaw watching, as if he felt he had been disloyal to his Clan by becoming friends with them.

“It’s okay,” Leafpaw meowed, padding over to touch noses with the ThunderClan warrior. “It’s hard to give up new friends like this.” I’m one of the lucky ones , she thought gratefully.

I can still be friends with Mothwing . Clan divisions weren’t so important to medicine cats, especially where the other medicine cats were concerned.

She decided to go and ask Cinderpelt if there was anything she could do to help the cats prepare for tomorrow. As she wove her way through the other cats, she came across Crowfeather standing over a WindClan elder, a skinny tom with creamy brown fur, who was comfortably curled up in a nest of dry leaves underneath a tree.

“Look, Rushtail,” Crowfeather was meowing frustratedly, “WindClan is gathering farther down the hill. If you stay here, you’ll get mixed up with ThunderClan.”

“So? ThunderClan never did me any harm,” rasped the elder. “I’m not moving a pawstep from here, young fellow, until I’ve had something to eat.”

Crowfeather rolled his eyes. “Great StarClan!”

“Can I help?” Leafpaw offered, wondering if Rushtail was being stubborn, or if he really felt too weak to move. She might be able to find some herbs that would help restore his strength, like the traveling herbs they used to eat before journeying to the Moonstone.

But when Crowfeather turned around to face her, his eyes were cold. “I don’t need help from ThunderClan, thanks,” he mewed curtly.

“I’m sorry.” Leafpaw took a step back, struggling not to show how cross she was that he was refusing her help for no good reason. “I only thought—”

“Take it easy, Crowfeather.” Leafpaw felt a light touch on her shoulder and glanced around to see Squirrelflight.

“There’s no need to be so prickly,” her sister added to the WindClan warrior.

Crowfeather dug his claws agitatedly into the ground.

“Our journey’s over , Squirrelflight,” he meowed. “We have to remember we belong to different Clans now.”

Squirrelflight snorted. “You always were a difficult furball, Crowfeather. But I won’t stop you if you’re determined to make everything harder than it needs to be. Just watch it when you talk to my sister, that’s all.”

Crowfeather looked back at Leafpaw and muttered something that might have been an apology. “But I can manage Rushtail on my own, thanks,” he added.

Just before she left, Leafpaw saw him bend over the elder again. “Rushtail, if I fetch you some fresh-kill, will you move then?”

“I might.” The old tom settled himself more comfortably and closed his eyes. “As long as it’s good and plump.”

“Leafpaw, are you coming?” Squirrelflight called.

Leafpaw turned to see Sorreltail bounding over to her.

“Was that Crowfeather?” she asked. “His tongue’s as sharp as a fox’s teeth. Is he giving you trouble? I’ll sort him out for you.” Her amber eyes gleamed with anticipation.

“No, he’s fine.” Leafpaw touched her friend’s shoulder with the tip of her tail.

Glancing back to where Crowfeather had disappeared in search of fresh-kill, she knew that was not entirely true. But she could not think of any herb that would heal his broken heart.

Brambleclaw shifted uneasily among the dead leaves. A branch was digging into his flank, but that wasn’t what had woken him. He couldn’t get used to sleeping alone, without the warmth of Squirrelflight’s body beside him. He thought she had gone to sleep next to Ashfur, but he wasn’t sure. She certainly wasn’t anywhere near him.

There was another prod in his side. Brambleclaw looked up blearily to see that it wasn’t a branch after all, but a paw.

Barkface was standing over him.

“Where’s Firestar?” the WindClan medicine cat demanded.

Brambleclaw scrambled up, yawning. Above his head the sky was just beginning to grow light. “Most of ThunderClan are over there, under the trees.”

“Find him for me, will you?” Barkface’s voice sounded close to breaking. “Tallstar is asking for him.”

Brambleclaw knew the WindClan leader must be close to losing his last life. “I’ll fetch him,” he promised.

“Thanks. We’re under that gorse bush over there.”

Barkface pointed with his tail. “I’ve got to find Onewhisker.”

He dashed off.

Brambleclaw bounded toward the nearest ThunderClan warriors. Tallstar was the eldest of the leaders, and his death would be a great loss to all four Clans, not just WindClan.

For a few heartbeats he despaired of finding Firestar in the dim predawn light, but then he spotted him sharing tongues with Sandstorm near the tree stump.

“Firestar, Barkface says Tallstar wants to see you,” Brambleclaw meowed as he raced up to them.

Firestar stiffened, and exchanged a glance with Sandstorm. “I’ll come at once,” he replied.

“Does Barkface need any help?” Sandstorm asked.

“Cinderpelt was here a moment ago. Tell Barkface to send a cat with a message if he wants her.”

Brambleclaw nodded, and followed Firestar across the open ground to the gorse bush where Tallstar lay dying. Its outer branches swept the ground, and there was no sign of any cats at first, but as Brambleclaw approached he heard the sound of harsh, uneven breathing. Ducking down, he peered through a gap to see Tallstar stretched out on his side in a nest of dead leaves.

“Firestar’s here,” he meowed, stepping back to let his leader enter the makeshift den. “I’ll wait outside,” he added to Firestar.

“Is that Brambleclaw?” Tallstar’s voice came weakly from beneath the bush. “Don’t go. You should hear what I have to say, too.”

Brambleclaw glanced hesitantly at Firestar, and when his leader nodded he flattened himself against the ground to creep under the low branches beside him.

Tallstar was alone; Barkface hadn’t come back yet with Onewhisker. The WindClan leader’s chest heaved as he fought for breath, and Brambleclaw winced at the effort it cost him to raise his head.

But in the faint moonlight that filtered through the branches, Tallstar’s eyes shone with the light of StarClan.

“Firestar, I must thank you,” he rasped. “You have saved my Clan.”

Firestar gave a murmur of protest.

“And Brambleclaw…” Tallstar went on. “You journeyed a long way to find this place for us, facing dangers no cat has seen before. Even Graystripe, may he walk with StarClan, would agree you will make a worthy deputy for ThunderClan.”

Brambleclaw gasped. He didn’t dare look at his leader, who stiffened beside him. He knew that Firestar had never stopped grieving for Graystripe, and clung to the belief that his friend was still alive. He had refused to name another deputy so far, even though it seemed extremely unlikely that Graystripe would escape from the Twolegs who had taken him away from the forest.