Bluestar's Prophecy

Aching with the effort, Bluepaw kept flailing while Snowpaw ducked and nipped Crookedpaw’s hind legs. Cursing, he dropped back onto all fours and tried to rush the two of them. But Snowpaw twisted under him and raked his belly, slowing him long enough for Bluepaw to leap on his back. Bluepaw guessed what Snowpaw would do next and dug her claws in tight, ready for Crookedpaw to fall. Sure enough, Snowpaw rolled over and pushed out with her paws, knocking Crookedpaw’s legs from under him and sending him tumbling down the bank. Clinging on like a burr, Bluepaw rolled with him. She pummeled with her hind paws, stripping the fur from his back. Yowling in agony, Crookedpaw struggled out of her grasp and raced away across the ice.

As Bluepaw climbed the bank, panting, Snowpaw greeted her with a triumphant purr. Blood stained her white pelt. “We showed him!”

Bluepaw wiped a paw across her own bloodied ear, then glanced up the rock. How were her Clanmates doing?

“Attack!” Stormtail’s yowl rang over the stone.

The second patrol had come! Claws scraped rock and frightened yowls rent the air. Bluepaw gasped as Snowpaw shoved her against the rock while pelts flashed down in front of them. RiverClan was streaming from the rock and racing away across the frozen river. Bluepaw held her breath and trembled against the rock as the last RiverClan warriors paused on the ice at the edge of the river. Smashing down with their hind legs, they cracked the ice.

They wanted to stop ThunderClan from following!

As the ice shattered under them, they leaped light as feathers onto the solid ice beyond and hurtled back to their territory, leaving a channel of black water swirling between themselves and ThunderClan.

Snowpaw was already climbing the rock. “Come on!” She disappeared over the top.

Hooking her claws into any fissure she could reach, Bluepaw scrambled after her. Every muscle screamed as she dragged herself up over the edge, but relief flooded through her when she saw her Clanmates. None lay lifeless on the rock.

Thank you, StarClan!

She sat next to Snowpaw, pressing against her sister to stop herself from trembling.

“Did you see Hailstar’s face when Stormtail led his patrol up over the edge?” Adderfang crowed.

Tawnyspots purred. “I had Ottersplash in a grip so tight she had to beg me to let her go!”

Pinestar padded from warrior to warrior, checking injuries and murmuring praise.

“Where did you two get to?” Sparrowpelt trotted toward them. One of his ears was bloody and his pelt was ruffled, tufts sticking out where claws had dug in.

“I fell over the side,” Bluepaw explained.

“We chased off Crookedpaw!” Snowpaw told him proudly.

“Crookedpaw?” Sunfall joined them. “He’s big for an apprentice. Well done!” His eyes shone with pride.

Snowpaw nudged Bluepaw’s bruised shoulder. “We make a good team,” she purred. Bluepaw nuzzled her sister, feeling a sudden burst of warmth and affection.

As the last rays of the sun splashed the rock, Pinestar padded past them. “Your mother in StarClan will be very proud of you,” he meowed.

Bluepaw glanced at the darkening sky. Gray clouds covered Silverpelt, and she hoped that beyond them, Moonflower was watching.

Thrushpelt trotted over to report to Pinestar. “No major injuries.”

“Then let’s go home,” the ThunderClan leader replied. With a flick of his tail he signaled to his Clan and led the way down toward the trees.

Bluepaw trotted beside Snowpaw. They had beaten a RiverClan cat! But a pang of sadness pricked her belly. Why did it have to be Crookedpaw? She had liked the RiverClan apprentice. And now they were enemies. She struggled to understand the hostility in his eyes, so different from the warmth she had once seen.

“I wish it wasn’t Crookedpaw we fought,” she sighed.

Snowpaw glanced sideways at her. “Was he the one you were talking to at the Gathering?”

Bluepaw nodded. “I thought we were friends.”

“The truce only lasts as long as the full moon,” Snowpaw reminded her. “Deep down, we will always be rivals.”

“So we can’t ever make friends with cats from other Clans?”

Snowpaw shook her head. “It’s our duty not to,” she mewed.

Patchpelt, Poppydawn, Rosepaw, and Goldenpaw met them at the top of the ravine.

“Any sign of invasion?” Pinestar asked.

Patchpelt clawed the ground, clearly still ready for a fight. “None.”

As they entered the camp, Lionpaw raced to meet them. “Wow!” He stared at Bluepaw’s bloodied ear. “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” Bluepaw lied. It stung like fury.

“Did you shred them?” Poppydawn paced the clearing, sheathing and unsheathing her claws.

“They won’t try taking Sunningrocks again,” Pinestar promised.

“Any serious wounds?” Goosefeather was hurrying from the fern tunnel; Featherwhisker followed with a bundle of leaves in his jaws.

“Just some scratches and bites,” Sunfall reported.

Featherwhisker was already unwrapping his bundle while Goosefeather moved from cat to cat assessing the damage.

“Bring cobwebs!” he called to Featherwhisker as he inspected a gash on Smallear’s leg.