Эрин Хантер - Moonrise

The stream bubbled up beside them, splashing over the rocks that were already wet and slippery with rain, which was falling more heavily again. Stormfur kept a wary eye on the stream, half expecting it to overflow and sweep them off the rocks. He stayed to the back of the group, trying to watch every cat, well aware that if any of them slipped they could be washed into the pool below the waterfall.

Almost as soon as that thought crossed his mind he saw Feathertail’s paws skid from under her. She slid sideways into the stream; water surged around her as she clung to the rocks by a single paw, her jaws wide in a silent wail of shock.

Stormfur bounded toward her, pushing past Tawnypelt, but before he reached her, Crowpaw had leaned out precariously over the foaming water, sunk his teeth into the scruff of Feathertail’s neck, and dragged her back onto the path.

“Thank you, Crowpaw,” she gasped. Stormfur saw with annoyance that her blue eyes were glowing with gratitude—and something more.

“You should be more careful,” Crowpaw meowed gruffly. “Do you think you’re a Clan leader, with nine lives to throw away? I saved you this once—don’t make me save you again.”

“I won’t.” Feathertail blinked and pressed her nose against Crowpaw’s muzzle. “I’m sorry for not watching out.”

“So you should be,” Stormfur snapped, not sure whether he was more annoyed by his sister’s carelessness or by the fact that Crowpaw had been the one to save her. He shouldered the apprentice away so that he could examine Feathertail more closely. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine,” Feathertail replied, trying to shake water from her fur.

A louder rumbling from farther up the mountain interrupted her, drowning even the roar of the waterfall below.

Stormfur looked up and froze in horror at the sight of a wall of mud, branches, and water hurtling down on them. His worst fears had come true: The mountain stream was in flood. Squirrelpaw let out a terrified yowl and Brambleclaw sprang back toward her.

But the water was upon them before they could do anything. It struck Stormfur like a blow, carrying him off his paws. His legs flailed as the flood carried him down, driving him against rocks where he clawed in vain for a grip before the water swept him on again. He choked as water filled his mouth and one of his paws caught painfully against a rock.

Then there was nothing beneath him at all, and he knew he was plunging over the waterfall.

There was a moment of eerie silence, broken by the whisper of rushing water. Then the roaring and pounding started up again, waiting to swallow him as he plummeted into the pool. Whirled around in the icy water, he caught a brief glimpse of Crowpaw floundering wildly before the surge closed over his head. Then more water crashed down on him, driving him under and filling his senses with churning white foam, a deafening roar, and then nothing.

I’m sorry, StarClan , Stormfur thought desperately as his senses faded. I know it wasn’t my mission, but I tried so hard. Please look after our Clans…

Leafpaw burst up through the surface of the water, gasping for air as she scrambled to find solid ground. Managing to stand in spite of the river flowing strongly around her legs, she shook icy drops of water from her pelt. The riverbank was only a couple of tail-lengths away. She shivered in the pale sun of leaf-fall as she looked up to see Mothwing peering down at her from an overhanging rock.

The RiverClan cat’s amber eyes were narrowed in amusement. “You don’t fish by jumping in the river,” she pointed out.

“I know that!” Leafpaw retorted crossly. “I slipped, that’s all.”

“I believe you,” Mothwing purred, giving her golden chest fur a quick lick. “Now come out, and we’ll have another go.

I’ll teach you to fish if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I’m still not sure we should be doing this,” Leafpaw meowed as she waded back to the bank.

“Of course we should. The rabbits and squirrels are starting to disappear, thanks to the Twolegs, but there’s still plenty of fish for every cat.”

“But I had to come onto RiverClan territory to get it,” Leafpaw pointed out anxiously. “What would Leopardstar say if she knew?”

Mothwing blinked. “We’re both medicine cats, so Clan boundaries don’t matter for us like they do for other cats.”

Leafpaw didn’t think that was how the warrior code worked. Her friend had said much the same a couple of days earlier, when she had rescued Leafpaw and Sorreltail from the pursuing WindClan warriors. This morning she had called to Leafpaw while she was gathering herbs near Sunningrocks, and offered to give her a fishing lesson. Leafpaw had felt very nervous about crossing the Clan border, but her hunger had driven her on now that prey was becoming even scarcer in ThunderClan territory. All the same, her ears and nose were alert for the first signs of a RiverClan patrol.

“Okay,” Mothwing went on, “crouch here beside me, and look down into the water. When you see a fish, scoop it out with your paw. It’s easy.”

A couple of glittering fish lying on the bank showed just how easy it was for Mothwing. Leafpaw gave them a longing glance, wondering if she would ever learn.

“Want some?” Mothwing offered, following her gaze.

Leafpaw felt guilty at the thought of being full-fed while the rest of her Clan went hungry. But she had not tasted fresh-kill since the night before, and that had been only a stringy vole. “I shouldn’t…” she murmured, trying to convince herself that it wouldn’t help her Clan if she starved as well.

“Of course you can. Where’s the harm?”

Leafpaw did not wait to be asked again. She crouched down in front of the fish, tucking her paws in, and sank her teeth into the cool flesh. “Delicious,” she mumbled.

Mothwing looked pleased. “Learn how to do it, and you can take lots more for your Clan.” She took a few dainty bites, as if she were full-fed already and didn’t care whether or not she ate.

Gulping down the rest of the fish, Leafpaw told herself that she would find food for her Clan to make up for it. As soon as she had finished, she settled down on the rock beside Mothwing and concentrated on the water just below, to wait for a fish of her own.

An unfamiliar scent swept over her at the same instant as Mothwing hissed, “Hawkfrost!” Leafpaw felt a paw jab hard into her ribs, tipping her over the edge of the rock and back into the river. She thrashed wildly, wondering why Mothwing was trying to drown her. Then as her head broke the surface she saw the huge tabby shape of Hawkfrost approaching the bank, and realized that Mothwing had done the only thing she could to hide her quickly.

Her paws working gently to keep her nose just above the water, Leafpaw let herself drift downriver for a few tail-lengths until she came to a clump of reeds where she could crawl out on the ThunderClan side of the river and hide.

Hawkfrost had stopped to talk to his sister, and Leafpaw realized that she would have to crouch where she was, soaked and shivering, until he went away and she could make a break across open ground to the ThunderClan border.

“…keeping my eyes open for WindClan,” she heard him meow when her ears were clear of water. “I know very well they’re stealing fish, and one day I’ll catch them at it.”

“Not down here, surely?” Mothwing replied innocently.

“WindClan would fish closer to Fourtrees—if they’re fishing at all.”

“WindClan and ThunderClan,” Hawkfrost growled. He added, “I can scent a ThunderClan cat now.”