Эрин Хантер - Legends of the Clans

Thunderstar sighed in satisfaction. He was sure he had chosen the right deputy. If anything ever happened to Thunderstar, Lightning Tail would protect ThunderClan.

Thunderstar’s cheerful mood lasted until they headed back to the ThunderClan camp in the late afternoon, heavily laden with prey. The high-pitched yowls of squabbling cats rose out of the ravine as they approached it, and Thunderstar’s heart sank.

There was always some cat arguing. And they always wanted Thunderstar to settle their arguments for them. It was as if the peace between the Clans had freed the cats to concentrate on all their small disagreements with each other.

As the hunting party scrambled down the side of the sandy ravine toward their camp, the angry voices got clearer.

“You were the one who said these were right!” That was Clover.

“I only did what Cloud Spots wanted!” And that was her brother Thistle.

Followed by the rest of the hunting party, Thunderstar shouldered his way through the gorse tunnel into ThunderClan’s camp.

“These don’t look anything like dock leaves! I don’t understand how you two even made this mistake! I’m supposed to be practicing how to chew it up and put it on wounds. If some cat gets hurt and we don’t have any dock leaves, it’ll be your fault!” Shivering Rose, the black-and-white medicine cat apprentice, was hissing with rage, her fur puffed up along her back.

Thistle rolled his eyes. “No cat’s hurt. There’s no emergency. What, do you think there’s going to be some big fight? With who?”

“Foxes, maybe? Badgers?” Blue Whisker tossed in from where she was watching the argument with interest, her tail folded neatly around her. Thunderstar flicked his ears reprovingly as he passed her. Moth Flight, the WindClan medicine cat, had given each Clan one of her own kits to link the Clans together and guarantee peace between them. His foster daughter—Moth Flight’s smallest kit—had grown up to be a fine young ThunderClan warrior, but sometimes she made trouble for trouble’s sake.

“Yes! Foxes and badgers!” Shivering Rose agreed, her yowl getting shriller. “Rogues! Or a cat could step on a sharp rock, or be scratched by thorns. ThunderClan doesn’t have to be fighting another Clan for cats to get hurt!”

Hoping to avoid their argument, Thunderstar dropped the thrush he was carrying onto the prey pile and turned toward his den. Maybe his mate, Violet Dawn, would be there. His spirits lifted, as they always did, at the thought of the beautiful, loving she-cat. If only he could get to their den before—“Thunderstar!” Clover yowled plaintively. “Tell them it wasn’t my fault!”

With a sigh, Thunderstar turned back toward the squabbling young cats and tried to look interested. “What’s the matter?” Lightning Tail brushed past him with a soft purr of amusement and leaped into the branches of a nearby ash tree. He wasn’t leader; he could ignore this kind of thing. For a moment, Thunderstar itched with jealousy.

“Cloud Spots sent them out to gather dock leaves so I could practice how to help my Clanmates who get hurt,” Shivering Rose told him. “Instead, they brought back beech leaves, so the whole day’s wasted.”

“They look almost the same,” Thistle said defensively, poking the broad, shiny leaves on the ground in front of him with one paw.

Shivering Rose gave a sharp yowl of disbelief, and Thunderstar settled down on his haunches and tried to listen patiently. But as Thistle and Clover each started to argue that their mistake had been the other’s fault, Thunderstar’s mind wandered.

He was glad to see peace between the five Clans at last. There were no more pitched battles in the forest, no more bristling and insults at the borders. No vicious rogues had bothered them for moons, and the Clans were respected by nearby loners. Prey was running well, and no fires, floods, or harsh storms had broken the forest’s peace for a long time.

It was everything Thunderstar had ever wanted for his Clan. They were safe; they were thriving.

And yet…

He could remember the thrill of crouching by Gray Wing’s side, making a battle plan. Of charging into a fight side by side with Lightning Tail. Of all the times when a hunt or a journey had desperately mattered, because it meant life or death.

He didn’t miss it, of course he didn’t, Thunderstar thought, ruffling his fur. It was just that, in his memory at least, there hadn’t been this constant low-key squabbling all the time. The things they had cared about then—scarce prey and battles and making a home for themselves—had been the big things. The important things.

“At least I’m faster than a tortoise!” Clover snarled indignantly at her brother, and Thunderstar guiltily snapped back to attention.

Thistle sniffed. “But your nose might as well be on your haunches for all the good it did while we were looking for Cloud Spots’s beech leaves.”

Shivering Rose draped her tail across her eyes, groaning dramatically. “ Dock leaves! Cloud Spots told you to get dock leaves! You mouse-brain!”

Clover bristled, angrily digging her claws into the earth beneath her paws. “Don’t talk to my brother like that!”

Thunderstar stood up, and Shivering Rose bit back her reply and looked up at him expectantly.

“Stop, all of you,” he said. “Clover and Thistle, apologize to Cloud Spots and Shivering Rose for bringing back the wrong leaves.” He turned to the medicine cat apprentice. “Shivering Rose, go into the forest tomorrow with Clover and Thistle and teach them what dock leaves look like, and what they smell like, so next time they’ll get it right.”

All three cats opened their mouths to reply, but Thunderstar silenced them with a weary look. “And stop fighting. You’re Clanmates, not a litter of kits. Respect each other.” The young cats hesitated, then nodded, murmuring agreement.

Thunderstar headed for his den again, only to be brought up short by more angry yowls.

“Prey should go on the prey pile!” Pink Eyes was lashing his tail, glaring at Leaf. “You can’t just hunt for your mate, even if she has new kits! Part of being a Clan cat is taking care of every cat, not only your kin.”

“I wasn’t on a hunting patrol! I just knew Milkweed needed something extra to keep her strength up,” Leaf hissed back, his amber eyes angry.

“Milkweed and the new kits are all you think of these days. You have a responsibility to feed the whole Clan!” Pink Eyes spat.

“You’re one to talk about feeding the Clan,” Leaf mewed sarcastically. “Even if you could see the prey, you’d be out of breath in half a rabbit chase.”

Pink Eyes jerked back, looking hurt, and Thunderstar stepped between the two angry toms. “Leaf, that’s not fair. Pink Eyes might not be able to hunt anymore, but you know he’ll be looking after your kits as soon as they’re big enough to come out of the nursery. And Pink Eyes, leave Leaf alone. If he’s not hunting enough for the Clan, Lightning Tail and I will send him out on more patrols.” Both cats looked rebellious, and Thunderstar twitched his tail with irritation. “You’re both too old to squabble like this. No wonder the younger cats are acting the same way! Set a better example. If you keep fighting, I’ll ask Cloud Spots to have you both pick ticks off Gooseberry—she got some on her pelt when she went out to the moor.”

Leaf and Pink Eyes dipped their heads submissively as Thunderstar walked away. It had been a long day, and he just wanted to curl up around his mate. Did his Clanmates have to bother him with every little dispute? Thunderstar sighed and stretched. I guess that’s what being a leader means, he supposed.