Bluestar's Prophecy

“There’s nothing in the warrior code that says denmates can’t be friends,” Snowpaw snapped back.

“You looked like more than just friends!” Bluepaw accused her.

“So what?” Snowpaw snapped. “There’s nothing in the warrior code about that either.”

“So you’re just following the warrior code?” Bluepaw rolled her eyes. “Well, there’s nothing in the warrior code about sleeping or eating. Maybe you should give those up, just so you aren’t breaking the code!”

Snowpaw rolled her eyes. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

Before Bluepaw could answer, Sunfall padded around the nettles. “What are you two arguing about?”

Both sisters glared at the deputy. “Nothing!”

He narrowed his eyes. “Come back to the clearing. It’ll be time for patrols soon.”

Shooting a fierce look at her sister, Bluepaw followed him back around the nettles. Her sparrow was lying on the ground, but she didn’t feel hungry anymore.

“Eat it,” Sunfall growled.

Bluepaw took a bad-tempered bite and chewed crossly.

On the far side of the clearing, Tawnyspots was finishing half a vole with the elders. Suddenly he sat up. “I know how to keep your nests dry!” he meowed.

“How?” Weedwhisker stared at him expectantly.

“There are thick, waxy leaves on a bush near the ShadowClan border,” Tawnyspots reminded them. “If we gather those and weave them among the old fern stalks, they’ll stop the water getting in when the thaw comes.”

Weedwhisker purred. “It might work!”

Tawnyspots was already on his paws. “I’ll take Rosepaw and collect some now.”

Rosepaw lifted her head, her eyes shining.

“Can we go, too?” Sweetpaw glanced at her mentor.

Smallear nodded. “The more paws, the better.” He looked over at Thistlepaw. “Do you want to join the leaf-gathering patrol?”

Bluepaw waited for Thistlepaw to explain that he was a hunter, not a leaf picker, but he leaped to his paws. “Yes, please!”

Snowpaw plucked at the snow. “Can I come?”

Sparrowpelt sat up and ran a paw over his whiskers. “A run through the forest will warm us up.” He called to the ShadowClan deputy, who had settled in a sunny spot outside Pinestar’s den. “Sunfall?”

“It sounds like a good plan.” Sunfall was nodding already. “But make sure you’re back for sunhigh.”

Bluepaw watched the patrol leave, feeling hollow. No one had invited her. Sunfall had been right. She’d grown so bad-tempered lately, none of her Clanmates wanted to be with her.

She took another bite of her sparrow, but could hardly swallow.

Crookedpaw liked me, she thought defiantly.

The apprentices’ den shivered as Lionpaw nosed his way out. “Is that prey?” He blinked in the sunshine as he looked at the fresh-kill pile. His eyes brightened for a moment. Then he glanced around the clearing. “Where are Larksong and Mumblefoot?”

“Too stiff to leave their nests,” Weedwhisker told him. “This cold’s no good for old bones.”

“They must be hungry.” Lionpaw scooped up the remaining mice and disappeared among the branches of the fallen tree. He emerged a few moments later with snow dusting his pelt.

Bluepaw could hear his belly growling. She nosed the remains of her sparrow forward. “Do you want the rest of mine?”

Lionpaw’s eyes glowed. “Yes, please,” he mewed. “I’m starving.”

Once he’d finished and washed his face, he called to Swiftbreeze. “You promised to teach me some battle moves!”

Swiftbreeze nodded. “I haven’t forgotten. We’ll go to the sandy hollow. There’ll be more room.” She flicked her tail over Goldenpaw’s flank. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Yes!”

“Can Bluepaw come too?” Lionpaw asked.

Bluepaw blinked. Did he really want her with them?

“She can show us how it’s done.” Lionpaw looked hopefully at Bluepaw. “Please?”

Bluepaw nodded.

Sunfall got to his paws. “I think I’d better come with you.” He stretched and yawned. “Three apprentices may be too many for one mentor.”

Swiftbreeze purred. “I’d welcome some help.”

Sunfall led the way through the snow-muffled forest to the training hollow. The clearing had been well sheltered from the snows, and the thin layer that coated the red earth was already beginning to melt in patches. Bluepaw raced down the short slope and across the clearing, suddenly feeling more cheerful. Battle moves would warm them all up—and give her a chance to forget about her sister mooning over Thistlepaw. She hadn’t practiced as hard as she should have since Moonflower had died, but maybe helping to train her denmates would give her a chance to catch up.

“What do you want me to show them?” she asked Swiftbreeze.

The tabby-and-white warrior tipped her head on one side. “I think we’ll start with Lionpaw.”

Lionpaw darted across the hollow.

“He needs to learn to think before he rushes in.”

Lionpaw skidded to a halt and turned back to his mentor. “But in a battle, there’s no time to think!”

“In a battle, planning is the most important weapon you have.” Swiftbreeze looked at Bluepaw. “Can you do a half-turn belly rake?”

Bluepaw nodded. It was one of the first things Sunfall had taught her.

Swiftbreeze padded down the slope. “Show Lionpaw.”