Erin Hunter - Starlight

“They’ll be okay now,” she meowed, straightening. “You might as well go, Sorreltail. You’ll be needed on one of the patrols. Thanks for staying with Mousefur.”

The young warrior raced off, waving her tail at Leafpaw as she passed.

“What about you, Longtail?” Cinderpelt prompted. “Did you have a bellyache as well?”

“A bit,” mewed the blind warrior. “Sorreltail said it was the water Mothwing gave us. I thought it smelled a bit odd, but when a medicine cat gives it to you—”

“Mistakes happen,” Cinderpelt meowed. “Leafpaw and I are going to look for herbs to restock our supplies in case any other cats show the same symptoms.”

“Good luck,” Longtail meowed. There was a wistful note in his voice, as if he would have liked to come with them to explore the new territory.

The medicine cats went back to the center of the camp, where the warriors were dividing up their patrols. Leafpaw spotted Brambleclaw heading purposefully toward Squirrelflight, but before he reached her, Ashfur bounded over.

“Hey, Squirrelflight!” he meowed. “Sandstorm says she wants you for the hunting patrol.”

“Sure,” Squirrelflight replied.

There was a look of mingled frustration and disappointment in Brambleclaw’s eyes as he watched her pad away, but he didn’t try to stop her. Leafpaw sighed. There was definitely something wrong between the tabby warrior and her sister, though she had no idea what it was.

“Wake up.” Cinderpelt prodded her in the side.

“Thornclaw’s ready. Let’s go.”

Leafpaw’s paws tingled with excitement as they headed for the gap in the rock wall. Dustpelt was giving orders to Spiderpaw and Whitepaw about clearing unwanted thorns from the camp to build a barrier. “I don’t want so much as a mouse to get in and out,” he meowed.

“What, not even cats?” Spiderpaw asked cheekily, waving his tail.

Dustpelt sighed. “We’ll leave a tunnel, mousebrain.”

Leafpaw pushed her way into a patch of ferns, which looked less prickly than the bramble bushes next to it, and paused in the middle, breathing in the strong green scent around her. On the other side, beyond the gap that led into the stone hollow, the unknown forest lay waiting.

No—ThunderClan’s new territory lay waiting.

“Are you stuck?” Thornclaw asked, nearly bumping into Leafpaw as he pushed through the ferns.

Leafpaw sprang forward, out of the sharp-smelling stems.

“Sorry,” she puffed.

Thornclaw followed more slowly and looked at her. “It’s all a bit strange, isn’t it?” he mewed. “But this is as strange as it will ever feel, remember that. We only have to explore once for it to seem more like home.”

Feeling comforted, Leafpaw padded beside him, away from the hollow. When she glanced back a few moments later, the stone cliffs had vanished among the trees, and all she could see were smooth gray trunks and branches that trembled in the wind. She was pleased to think her Clanmates were sheltered by the towering walls, invisible and safe in the middle of the wood.

Voices sounded up ahead, and they rounded a sturdy oak tree to find Cloudtail, Brightheart, and Sorreltail sniffing suspiciously at a gap between the roots. This was the patrol that Firestar had sent out to explore the territory that lay closest to the hollow.

“Fox,” Leafpaw heard Cloudtail meow.

Brightheart lifted her head and carefully tasted the air.

“It’s very stale,” she decided. “I don’t think the fox can have been there for moons.”

“Shall I go in to look?” Sorreltail offered.

Brightheart shook her head. “Didn’t your mentor ever warn you about going into strange holes? We can smell there’s nothing there. Let’s keep going.”

Sorreltail called out a greeting to Leafpaw, then followed the warriors as they headed deeper into the woods.

Leafpaw stopped to let Cinderpelt catch up, and gazed around her. Trees stretched away on all sides, their branches interwoven so tightly that only tiny splinters of sky showed through. The trees weren’t as tall as the ones in the forest they had left, but Leafpaw guessed that in greenleaf their leaves would form a thick, cooling canopy. Most of the ground was covered by short grass with spikes of snowdrops thrusting upward, and the occasional clump of thornbushes and bramble thickets. It was more exposed than Leafpaw was used to, and she hoped that ferns and other plants would grow in newleaf to provide homes for prey, and to make the cats feel safer as they patrolled their territory.

Cinderpelt reached her and limped steadily on, following the sound of running water. “We’re not likely to find juniper here,” she commented as the three cats padded side by side.

“Leafpaw, what else might we use for bellyache?”

“Water mint?” she suggested. “Or chervil root?”

“They would both be fine,” Cinderpelt agreed. “Water mint should be easier to find than chervil root.”

They reached the stream, which flowed in a deep cleft between the tangled roots of overhanging trees. Leafpaw stood on the bank and looked for signs of the leafy green plant, but all she could see was water sliding over gray stone about a tail-length below her, with bright green ferns trailing over the edge of the bank.

“Let’s try on the other side,” Thornclaw suggested when they came to a place where the banks sloped down and they could splash across.

Cinderpelt agreed, but it was much the same: open woodland with little in the way of undergrowth. Then Leafpaw smelled damp soil, a bit like the marsh at the far end of the lake. Water mint didn’t have to grow in a stream—sometimes wet earth was enough. She raced ahead, pushing her way through some spiky tussocks of grass, and spotted the tall, leafy stems half-hidden in a clump of bracken.

“Good work!” Cinderpelt praised her, coming to join her.

“There’s enough here to supply us regularly.”

Tipping their heads to one side, they bit through several stalks. Leafpaw’s eyes watered as sap clung to her fur, filling her mouth with the pungent scent.

“I’d better get back to camp,” Cinderpelt meowed when they had finished picking the water mint. “Thornclaw, will you take Leafpaw to WindClan now?”

“We’ll see you home first,” meowed Thornclaw. “I don’t think any cat should be alone in these woods until we know a bit more about them.”

He led them back by a different route, calculating from the way the ground sloped that it should lead more quickly to the stone hollow. They passed beneath some beech trees, and Leafpaw’s belly rumbled as the scent of squirrel flooded over her.

Thornclaw tasted the air with a gleam in his eyes, and Leafpaw guessed he was ravenous too. “Do we have time to hunt?” he asked Cinderpelt.

The medicine cat set down her stems of water mint. “If we don’t take too long.”

“This won’t take long at all,” Thornclaw promised. He flicked his ears toward the nearest tree, and Leafpaw spotted a squirrel among the roots, nibbling a beechnut.

Thornclaw paused for a moment to judge the direction of the breeze, then began stealthily working his way around so that he approached the squirrel from downwind. Bunching his hindquarters under him, he pounced; the squirrel gave one spasmodic kick, and was still.

“Come on,” he called. “There’s enough for all of us.”

The fresh-kill was delicious, and Leafpaw offered a quick prayer of thanks to StarClan for bringing them to a place where the prey was plump—and slow. Her mouth was filled with the scent of the squirrel, so she had no warning when three cats suddenly appeared around the trunk of a tree a little way off. They paused for a heartbeat when they spotted the ThunderClan cats, and then loped toward them. As they drew closer, Leafpaw realized it was a WindClan patrol made up of Tornear, his apprentice, Owlpaw, and Whitetail.