Эрин Хантер - Skyclan’s Destiny

“I know.” Clovertail bent her head to lick the dark gray kit’s ear. “Accidents happen. And there was no harm done. Nettlekit is fine.”

Leafstar was impressed by Clovertail’s soothing words. She remembered what the she-cat had been like when she first joined SkyClan—lazy, spoiled, and selfish, and interested in Clan life only for the protection it offered herself and her kits. But since then she had become like a mother to all the cats, always ready with comfort and advice. She would never be a great hunter or fighter, but she kept the nursery clean and well ordered.

And I don’t know how Fallowfern would manage without her, looking after that rowdy lot!

“Come on,” Clovertail urged, gathering the four kits together with her tail. “Let’s go back to the nursery, and I’ll tell you all about the time Firestar came to the gorge.”

“Yes!” Creekkit exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. “That’s the best story!”

As Clovertail and the kits headed up the trail, Leafstar gazed proudly at her Clan. Sharpclaw was sitting in a patch of sunlight, grooming his dark ginger fur with long, smooth strokes of his tongue. The three new warriors were bunched together in an excited huddle, while their former mentors chose prey from the fresh-kill pile and settled down to eat it.

Petalnose waved her tail at Waspwhisker. “Come on, let’s give our apprentices some battle practice.”

“Great!” Sagepaw yowled, and raced off up the gorge. His sister, Mintpaw, took off after him in a whirl of dust, followed more slowly by the two mentors.

Leafstar let out a sigh of pride and satisfaction. Her Clan had survived the long leaf-bare, and the battle with the rats was fading from memory.

But we’ll never forget Rainfur. The gray tom, Sagepaw and Mintpaw’s father, had fought valiantly on behalf of the Clan he had belonged to for such a short time. He would always be remembered as the first warrior to give his life for the newly restored SkyClan.

And now SkyClan is strong in the gorge, thanks to Firestar and Sandstorm.

Leafstar’s thoughts drifted back through countless seasons, to the Clan who had lived there before and left their claw marks in the warriors’ den. She wished so often that she could know more about them. The last remnant of that long-ago Clan was Skywatcher, the old gray tom who had been nicknamed Moony, ridiculed and called mad by the cats who were now Leafstar’s loyal warriors. He had nurtured the memory of SkyClan like a tiny flame, until Firestar came to fan it into brilliant, blazing life. Leafstar raised her head to gaze at the Skyrock, where the Clan gathered at the full moon. There are so many of us now that some cats have to sit on the main part of the cliff. She caught her breath as she made out a faint gray shape against the drifting white clouds.

Skywatcher!

Warmth filled the Clan leader as she realized that the old cat had come back to see the ceremony for the first warriors who were born in the gorge. She raised her tail in greeting, hoping that all the SkyClan ancestors were looking down from StarClan, and were proud of their descendants, and those who had decided to become Clan cats.

“We will honor you always,” she murmured, her gaze still fixed on Skywatcher’s faint outline. “And we will do everything we can to keep your Clan alive.”

“Invasion! Invasion!”

Leafstar spun around at the panic-stricken yowl, her claws sliding out as she prepared to defend herself and her Clan. Sharpclaw and the warriors around the fresh-kill pile sprang to their paws, their fur bristling. A few tail-lengths farther down the river, Shrewtooth stood stiff-legged on a rock, his eyes wide with horror as he gazed upward. His mouth hung open from where he had just screeched a warning; now he looked too frightened to say anything.

Three cats had appeared over the lip of the gorge and were trotting down the trail. The leader was a black she-cat, closely followed by a ginger-and-white tom and a younger tom with a black-and-white pelt.

“That’s Ebonyclaw, Billystorm, and Snookpaw,” Cherrytail meowed. “Why is that mouse-brained tom making such a fuss?”

“He nearly made me jump out of my fur,” Sparrowpelt grumbled.

Leafstar relaxed with a sigh. “Shrewtooth, it’s okay. It’s just the daylight-warriors!”

The jumpy black tom stared at her, then flicked his gaze back toward the cats who were rapidly making their way down the rocks. At last he seemed to recognize the newcomers. “Sorry,” he muttered, ducking his head to Leafstar. “The sun was in my eyes. I got confused.”

“He’s permanently confused, if you ask me,” Cherrytail muttered.

Sharpclaw let out a hiss of annoyance and went back to grooming his pelt. He seemed to be ignoring the approaching cats, though Leafstar spotted the tip of his tail twitching back and forth. She opened her jaws to speak and then thought better of it. Instead, she padded over to the bottom of the cliff to welcome the newcomers as they leaped down the last couple of tail-lengths.

“Hi, Leafstar,” the black she-cat meowed. “Are we in time for the ceremony?”

Leafstar shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ebonyclaw. We held it at sunhigh.”

“Oh, no!” The young tom’s voice rose in a wail. “We missed it! I’ve been looking forward to it for nearly a moon.”

“We called for Harveymoon and Frecklepaw,” Ebonyclaw explained. “But they were shut in.” She shrugged. “I guess we waited too long.”

Leafstar didn’t turn to look, but she could feel Sharpclaw’s gaze boring into her back like a fox’s fangs. She knew he didn’t approve of allowing kittypets to join the Clan and go back to their Twoleg nests at night. But she wasn’t about to start that argument again. SkyClan needed the daylight-warriors.

They help us keep the fresh-kill pile well stocked. And the Clan is still small; we can’t afford to turn any cat away.

“Never mind, Snookpaw,” Ebonyclaw went on. “There’ll be other ceremonies.”

“But I wanted to see this one.” Snookpaw padded over to the three new warriors. His eyes shone with admiration as he spoke to Bouncefire. “I wanted to be the first to call you by your warrior name. And now I don’t even know what it is!”

“It’s Bouncefire,” the young warrior told him, seeming to swell with pride.

“That’s a great name!”

“And we’re Tinycloud and Rockshade,” Tinycloud added.

Leafstar stifled a mrrow of amusement when Snookpaw completely ignored the young white warrior.

“I bet you’re the best warrior in the Clan,” he went on to Bouncefire. “I wish you could be my mentor.”

“Hey!” The ginger-and-white tom strolled over to the younger cats and gave Snookpaw’s shoulder a friendly shove. “What’s wrong with the mentor you’ve got?”

“Sorry, Billystorm.” Snookpaw gave his chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks. “You’re a great mentor, too.”

Before Billystorm could reply, excited squeals broke out from farther up the cliff, as Nettlekit, Plumkit, Creekkit, and Rabbitkit scrambled out of the nursery and headed down the trail, slipping and tumbling over their own paws in their haste.

“StarClan must be looking after those kits,” Ebonyclaw commented, “or they would have broken their necks long ago.”

“Billystorm!” Rabbitkit mewed as he plopped down from the top of the last rock and scrambled over to the ginger-and-white tom. “Watch us do the moves you taught us yesterday!”

“I’m the best fighter!” Nettlekit boasted.

“No, I am!” Plumkit gave her brother a shove.

“They’re too young to be taught fighting moves,” Fallowfern meowed, her neck fur beginning to bristle. “Nettlekit nearly drowned today when they were play fighting.”