Erin Hunter - Starlight

“What are we going to do?” Leafpaw asked anxiously.

Cinderpelt turned to Sorreltail. “Do you know if any other cat drank the water?”

Sorreltail shook her head.

“Goldenflower and Longtail might have,” Cinderpelt went on. “Check it out, would you, Sorreltail?”

The tortoiseshell warrior nodded and vanished into the darkness.

“Try to lie still, Mousefur,” Cinderpelt urged. “Let me feel your belly.” She patted gently with her paw. To Leafpaw, the brown warrior’s stomach looked unnaturally distended.

“Haven’t you got some herbs I could take?” Mousefur fretted.

Cinderpelt shook her head. “We haven’t had time to look for any yet.”

Mousefur opened her mouth to say something else, then retched and began to vomit.

“That could be a good sign,” Cinderpelt meowed to Leafpaw. “At least she’s getting rid of the poison.”

Leafpaw nodded, feeling utterly helpless. Mousefur was suffering because the medicine cats could do nothing without their stock of herbs. “We’ll have to find more supplies as soon as it’s light,” she mewed. “Especially water mint and juniper berries. I’ll take some to the other Clans, in case they drank the water too.”

Cinderpelt’s blue eyes widened in surprise, and Leafpaw winced. She had become too used to thinking of all four Clans as one, with shared problems and shared solutions. It seemed natural to help them if she thought their elders might be suffering the same thing as Mousefur. But now that the boundaries between them were being reestablished, was she being disloyal to her own Clan?

“We should check on WindClan at least,” she added persuasively. “Their cats are the weakest, so they’ll be in the most danger.”

Cinderpelt nodded. “You can go in the morning, but you’d better take a warrior with you. We’ll speak to Firestar as soon as we can. Well?” she prompted, as Sorreltail reappeared.

“Goldenflower says she had a bellyache, but she’s been sick, and it isn’t too bad now,” the tortoiseshell warrior reported. “Longtail is asleep, and he looks okay, so I didn’t wake him.”

“Thanks,” meowed Cinderpelt. “Longtail’s younger, of course, so he should be stronger. I’ll have a word with him when he wakes.”

“Mothwing meant to be kind,” Leafpaw murmured. She didn’t want her friend to get into trouble for not noticing the rabbit at the bottom of the pool.

To Leafpaw’s relief, Cinderpelt didn’t seem to blame Mothwing too much. “I know. Any cat can make a mistake.”

Then the medicine cat’s eyes darkened and she went on: “But Mothwing would be the first to admit she has much less experience than the other medicine cats, and no mentor to guide her now that Mudfur is dead. I hope for RiverClan’s sake that she doesn’t make this sort of mistake too often.

She’ll need all the help StarClan can give her, that’s for sure.”

Weak after her vomiting, but more comfortable, Mousefur managed to sleep. Sorreltail stayed to keep an eye on her, with instructions from Cinderpelt to fetch her if the pain returned. The sky was already turning gray behind the trees at the top of the cliff, and though Leafpaw felt exhausted there was no point in going back to the makeshift den. As soon as the light grew stronger, she and Cinderpelt went to look for Firestar.

A wind had sprung up, rattling the leafless branches and tearing the clouds into ragged strips, but the undergrowth sheltered by the ring of stone hardly stirred. A gleam of pale sunlight slanted into the hollow, leaving the foot of the cliff in shadow but striking a gentle warmth into the ferns by the entrance. The cats that hadn’t been disturbed by Mousefur’s illness awoke to a far different place from the dark and unwelcoming hollow of the night before. Leafpaw heard them call cheerfully to one another, and spotted Birchkit emerging from a bramble thicket to pounce on a dead leaf.

The sight of the kit playing just as he had done back in the forest, before the prey vanished and they were dulled by starvation, made Leafpaw’s heart lift, and she offered silent thanks to StarClan. She forced the terrifying bloodstained prophecy from her dream to the back of her mind, and told herself that this must be the right place for ThunderClan to settle.

They found Firestar in an open space near the center of the hollow; he had already gathered some of his warriors around him.

“We need to get out there right away and mark our boundaries,” Leafpaw heard Dustpelt meow as they approached. “If we don’t, WindClan and ShadowClan will claim all the woodland—and the prey—before you can say mouse.”

“We need to explore the territory as well,” Sandstorm pointed out. “For all we know, these woods could be crawling with foxes and badgers.”

“Not to mention hawks,” Thornclaw added.

Sandstorm murmured agreement. “I’ll see to the hunting patrols, if you like,” she meowed to Firestar.

The Clan leader gave her a grateful nod. “Thanks, that would be great.” Leafpaw felt a little stab of pride to think that her mother was one of the best hunters in the Clan.

Dustpelt flicked his ears. “I’ll take charge of guarding the camp—I don’t like the look of that entrance gap. I’ll get the apprentices and see what we can do with some thorns.”

“And I’ll take care of the boundary patrols,” Brambleclaw offered.

“That’s a huge job,” Firestar warned, “especially as we don’t even know where the boundaries are going to be yet.

Brackenfur, will you and Brambleclaw do that together?”

The two warriors nodded.

“Cloudtail, I want you to take a patrol and work outward from the camp,” the Clan leader ordered. “Report back on anything you think I should know about. It’s not just the boundaries we need to think about—I want to know what’s inside them, too.” Cloudtail agreed with a wave of his tail.

“What about me?” Thornclaw asked.

Cinderpelt limped forward. “Excuse me, Thornclaw.

Firestar, we have a problem.” She quickly told him about Mousefur’s bellyache. “I want to go out and find the right herbs,” she explained, “and then take some to WindClan. All the Clans could have drunk the water, but WindClan is weakest, so they’re most at risk.”

Firestar thought for a moment before he replied. His expression was hard to read, and Leafpaw wondered if he was reluctant to spend time and energy helping another Clan now that they were establishing their new territories.

“We can’t leave WindClan to suffer if there’s something we can do,” Cinderpelt urged.

“All the medicine cats know how to treat bellyache,” Firestar reminded her. “But you’re right, Cinderpelt: WindClan have been through enough, and it’s the kits and elders who’ll suffer. Thornclaw can go with you.”

“Thanks. I’ll just check on Mousefur and the others, and then we’ll go.”

Leafpaw followed Cinderpelt back to Mousefur’s nest.

The brown warrior was asleep, with Sorreltail dozing beside her. Longtail and Goldenflower had joined them; Goldenflower was asleep too, but Longtail raised his head as they approached and pricked his ears toward them as if he could see as clearly as ever.

“Hi, Cinderpelt, Leafpaw,” he greeted them; Leafpaw knew he had recognized them by their scent, but it didn’t stop a thorn-sharp claw of sympathy raking through her.

Sorreltail blinked her eyes open and scrambled to her paws. “I think everything’s fine,” she meowed. “Mousefur’s been asleep ever since you left.”

“Her scent is almost back to normal,” Longtail added.

“Goldenflower’s, too, but I think she drank less of the water to start with.”

Cinderpelt bent her head over Mousefur and then Goldenflower, sniffed them, and listened to their breathing.