Erin Hunter - Cloudstar’s Journey

“Watch out!” screeched Tansypaw.

Cloudstar looked up just as the fir tree plunged toward him. For a moment he was frozen, imagining what it would feel like to be crushed beneath branches laden with pine needles; then he sprang backward, dragging Mintpaw’s limp body with him, and the tip of the fir tree crashed to the ground less than a tail-length from his muzzle. Beyond the fallen tree, a yellow monster roared in triumph. A Twoleg sat astride it, raising his naked pink paw in the air as he gestured to his companions standing among the trees.

“StarClan, help us!” whispered Snailpaw. “The Twolegs are destroying the forest!”

Cloudstar’s spine was throbbing as he stumbled into the clearing and let Mintpaw slide to the ground. Tansypaw and Snailpaw collapsed beside her, their fur full of debris and their eyes round with horror.

“What in the name of StarClan has happened?” gasped Mousefang, running over to Snailpaw and sniffing at her apprentice’s fur in disbelief.

“The forest is being crushed!” Snailpaw whimpered. “A monster knocked down the tree we were in!”

“Oh my whiskers, you could have been killed!” Mousefang yowled. “Fawnstep! Come quickly!”

The medicine cat trotted out of her den, her nostrils flaring as she smelled the fear and scent of broken branches. She raced over to Mintpaw and gently rolled the apprentice onto her side. “Mintpaw, can you hear me?”

By now the clearing was filling with cats, wide-eyed and murmuring in hushed tones. Fernpelt hurtled out of the warriors’ den and stared in horror at the cats lying on the ground. “My kits! What have you done to them?” She glared accusingly at Cloudstar.

He shook a piece of twig from his fur and faced his Clanmate. “The Twolegs and their monsters have invaded our territory,” he reported, feeling his heart wrench with each word. I have to be strong. My Clan needs me more than it ever has before. I can’t let them see how scared I am . “The apprentices and I were in a tree when it was pushed over by one of the yellow monsters.”

Fernpelt let out a faint shriek. The brambles crackled and Buzzardtail emerged, followed by the rest of his hunting patrol. They were dragging a small squirrel, but nothing more. Buzzardtail took one look at the cats lying on the ground and ran to the side of his mate. “Fernpelt, what’s going on?”

“They were in a tree!” she whimpered. “They almost got killed!”

Buzzardtail looked at Cloudstar. Cloudstar nodded. “I was with them,” he mewed. “StarClan saved us, for sure.”

The deputy turned to follow Fernpelt to the injured cats, but paused for a moment. “We’ve lost that border, haven’t we?” he mewed quietly to Cloudstar.

“Yes. I’ll take a patrol at nightfall to assess the damage. Will you come with me?”

Buzzardtail twitched his ears. “Of course.” As he padded over to join Fernpelt, Quailheart brushed past him with a mouthful of herbs from Fawnstep’s den.

“I’ve brought comfrey, marigold, and poppy seeds,” she reported, placing the bundle at Fawnstep’s paws.

The medicine cat looked up from Mintpaw’s unmoving body. “I can’t find any broken bones or wounds. I think she’s just stunned. Get someone to help you take her into my den, and sit with her until I’ve treated the others.”

“I’ll carry her,” meowed Buzzardtail. He crouched down and Quailheart heaved the small gray cat onto his shoulders. The deputy straightened up and walked slowly to the medicine cat’s den with Quailheart on his heels.

“Tansypaw is bleeding!” wailed Fernpelt, who was examining her daughter’s cream pelt.

“Okay, I have cobweb and marigold for that,” Fawnstep mewed calmly. “Snailpaw, what are your injuries?”

The apprentice sniffed at his pelt. “I feel like the tree fell right on top of me,” he complained. “But I don’t see any blood.”

Fawnstep began applying a mixture of marigold and comfrey to the cut on Tansypaw’s hind leg. “Can you move all your legs? Any numbness?” Fawnstep called across to Snailpaw.

The apprentice stretched each leg in turn with a slight wince, then shook his head. “Good,” mewed Fernpelt. “Eat half a poppy seed and get some rest. The poppy will help you sleep, but be prepared for the bruises to feel even worse tomorrow.”

“And what about you?” mewed a soft voice in Cloudstar’s ear. “Are you hurt?”

He turned and looked into Birdflight’s troubled blue eyes. “I ache all over,” he admitted. “But I don’t need any herbs.”

Birdflight blinked. “Fernpelt’s right. You could have died.”

“There are always dangers in the forest,” Cloudstar pointed out.

“Not like this! Not inside our territory!” Birdflight gazed at him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cloudstar admitted. “It’s bad.”

“Should we prepare to leave?” asked Nightfur, padding over with his apprentice, Oakpaw, beside him.

“And go where?” Mousefang demanded. “Twolegplace? Across the river? RiverClan might have something to say about that.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Cloudstar declared, drawing in a painful breath as he raised his voice. Around him, his Clanmates fell silent and stared at him. “We are safe here. Tomorrow we will assess how far the Twolegs have invaded, and set new border marks. This is our home.”

“But we don’t know how far the Twolegs will come!” blurted Hazelwing. “My kits are far too small to survive falling trees!”

“No, we’re not,” Hatchkit insisted. “I’ll chase those Twolegs off if they come anywhere near us! Grrrr!”

“We don’t stand a chance against the yellow monsters,” Rainleap put in. “SkyClan is going to be destroyed !”

“Never say that!” Cloudstar snarled. “As your leader, I will give my last breath to keep you safe. I promise the Twolegs will not harm a hair on our pelts or touch one branch of our homes. StarClan is watching over us—how else would we have escaped the falling tree today? They know that this is our home, and they will protect it.”

“Are you sure?” meowed Stoatfur. He was standing beside Tansypaw, keeping his apprentice still while the poultice on her wounds dried. “Did you see them fighting the Twolegs and their yellow monsters? Did they catch you as the tree fell?”

“That’s not the way StarClan works, and you know it,” Cloudstar replied, forcing his fur to stay flat. “We must have faith.”

“And we must have faith in Cloudstar, too,” rasped a frail voice from the edge of the clearing. A rose-cream she-cat with dark green eyes stood trembling at the entrance to the elders’ den. “He has led us well until now, and we should listen to him.”

“Thank you, Petalfall,” Cloudstar meowed, dipping his head. “You need to get some rest. One of the apprentices will bring you something to eat.”

The elderly cat turned to go back into her den. “Ah, don’t trouble the young ones with chasing after me,” she grunted. “Let them feed the rest of the Clan first. Toothless old badgers like me don’t deserve the pick of the fresh-kill pile.”

In three strides, Cloudstar had crossed the clearing and was standing close to Petalfall. “Never let me hear you talk like that!” he hissed quietly. “You served your Clan as well as any cat here—in fact, better than most.” If you hadn’t started suffering with the falling sickness, you would be leader in my place. You know that as well as I do . Before the previous leader, Flystar, had lost his ninth life, his deputy Petalfall had been forced to retire to the elders’ den after suffering a number of alarming fits, when she lost consciousness for a while and trembled on the ground like a wind-tossed leaf. Fawnstep seemed to keep the fits at bay with tiny doses of poppy seed, but the she-cat was far frailer than she should have been, and rarely ventured out of the camp now.