Erin Hunter - Cloudstar’s Journey

He hunted until the sunbeams slanted low through the trees and the first star appeared in the hazy sky. He was exhausted, his pelt ruffled and filthy, and the stiffness along his spine had sharpened to a fierce burn. But all he had to add to his squirrel was a blackbird, plump enough but hardly a good meal for more than two cats. Unearthing the squirrel, Cloudstar dragged his fresh-kill back to the camp.

Birdflight was waiting for him on the far side of the brambles. “Where have you been? Weaselwhisker said you went out hunting on your own!”

Cloudstar nodded. “Let me put these on the fresh-kill pile, and let’s eat together.”

“I’ve already eaten,” Birdflight meowed. “I’m sorry, I should have saved some for you.” Cloudstar was about to protest when his gaze fell on the pile beneath the elderflower tree. There were a few scraps that might have been the vole he had seen earlier, but nothing else. He spun around to face Birdflight. “Has every cat eaten?”

She flinched at his fierce tone. “I think so,” she mewed. “Petalfall shared hers with Hazelwing and the kits. She said she wasn’t hungry.”

Cloudstar curled his lip. “She’s said that before.”

Birdflight’s eyes widened. “You think she’s deliberately letting the other cats eat her share?”

Cloudstar nodded. “But if there isn’t enough food to go around, we’ll all have to go hungry for a while. Just until the prey comes back. Buzzardtail!” He called to his deputy, who was sharing tongues with Fernpelt outside the warriors’ den. “From now on, we’ll eat once a day, at dusk. There isn’t enough prey for two meals a day.”

Buzzardtail looked startled. “We’ll starve!”

“No, we won’t,” Cloudstar snapped, fighting the panic rising inside his chest. “We survive on one meal during leaf-bare. Why should this be different?”

“Because we need to eat more in the warm seasons in order to survive leaf-bare!” Buzzardtail pointed out. “We won’t have the strength to hunt if we’re hungry all the time.”

“Then figure out a different way to hunt!” Cloudstar hissed. He whirled around and stalked to his den. They look to me for answers, but how am I supposed to conjure prey out of an empty forest?

There were soft paw steps behind him, and Birdflight followed him into the den. “Cloudstar, I’m worried about you.”

“Well, I’m worried about everyone,” Cloudstar muttered, circling in his nest to flatten the moss.

“That’s your duty, as our leader,” Birdflight mewed. “But I just have to worry about you—and our kits, when they come. Cloudstar, they need their father! If you work yourself to death before they arrive, I’ll have to raise them alone! Please, take care of yourself for their sake, if nothing else.”

Cloudstar reached out and rested his muzzle on Birdflight’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I will look after myself, I promise. And the rest of the Clan. Everything will be fine when the monsters leave and the prey comes back.”

Birdflight squeezed in beside him. Cloudstar shuffled to the edge of the nest to make room for her swollen belly. “Do you really believe SkyClan will survive this?” Birdflight murmured as she settled against him.

“Of course,” Cloudstar purred. “StarClan would not have made me leader if they did not know for certain that I would be able to save my Clan. Now sleep, my precious. Our kits need us both to be strong.”

Cloudstar stood at the edge of the Great Rock, washed in silver moonlight, and gazed down at the cats below. Countless pairs of eyes gleamed up at him, ears pricked, the only sound the whispering of the leaves from the four giant oaks. How long have the five Clans gathered here? Cloudstar wondered. And how long will they continue? Until the Twolegs destroy these trees as well?

There was a quiet cough from the foot of the rock, and Cloudstar saw Buzzardtail looking expectantly at him. Three sunrises had passed since Cloudstar and the apprentices were caught in the falling tree, and the Twolegs had encroached no farther onto SkyClan’s territory. Instead they had cleared the ruined trees away and started to place rows of large gray stones, sharp and square, in the empty space. There was still too much noise, and the prey had not yet returned—leaving SkyClan thin and hungry on reduced fresh-kill—but Cloudstar felt a stirring of hope that the worst was over.

He had wanted to say nothing about the Twolegs at the Gathering, and let the other Clans believe that all was well in SkyClan. But Buzzardtail insisted that he had to acknowledge there was something going on. They knew that the noise of the yellow monsters had reached ThunderClan, and it was impossible that RiverClan hadn’t heard something too. Better to acknowledge what the Twolegs are doing, Buzzardtail had argued, than let rumors spread among the other Clans.

Greenleaf held sway in the forest, weighting the trees with glossy green leaves and plumping the prey. The other Clans reported overflowing fresh-kill piles, healthy litters of kits, and new warriors who looked as strong and sharp as their seniors. Cloudstar pictured the scant pile of food beneath the elderflower bush, the scrawny elders, and the wails of Hazelwing’s kits when their bellies ached with hunger.

Scraping his claws over the silver stone, he lifted his head. “Cats of all the Clans, I am proud to speak for the SkyClan cats. Hazelwing’s kits continue to grow, and are wearing us all out with their games!” There was a purr of amusement from below, mostly from she-cats and elders. “I look forward to presenting them to you as apprentices in three more moons. My warriors are hunting with great skill for their Clanmates, and like you we are grateful for the fresh-kill that greenleaf brings to the forest.” He paused and took a breath. Stay calm! Don’t let them see that you are worried one tiny whisker about what is happening .

“I’m sure some of you have heard the rumblings of Twolegs and their monsters just beyond our border.” There were nods and murmurs from below the rock, and Cloudstar felt Redstar stiffen beside him. “Well, you know Twolegs, always trying to ruin something!” Cloudstar’s throat ached as he tried to keep his tone light. “They’ve taken a few trees at their edge of our territory, but we have plenty more. The Twolegs will get bored soon and take their monsters somewhere else.” He narrowed his eyes and tried to meet the gaze of as many warriors as possible from the other Clans. “We in SkyClan would hate for you to waste time on rumors and lies about what may be going on in our territory.” Cloudstar let an edge creep into his tone, but then he caught sight of Buzzardtail looking alarmed, and softened his voice a little. I don’t want to seem like I am trying to hide something . “And by the next Gathering, I hope to have even better news. Kits of my own, thanks to Birdflight!”

There were mutters of approval; Cloudstar hoped he had distracted the cats from gossiping about Twoleg nonsense. He stepped back from the edge of the rock and sat down again. Redstar leaned over and murmured in his ear, “Glad to hear that SkyClan doesn’t mind sharing their territory with Twolegs.”

Cloudstar shot a fierce glance at the ginger tom, and reminded himself with an effort that this was the night of the full moon, so hostility between Clans was forbidden. “Of course we aren’t sharing our territory with Twolegs,” he meowed, opening his eyes wide as if surprised that Redstar would have such a mouse-brained idea. “Our borders are strong, and our scent marks refreshed as usual.”