Dark River

“Is something worrying you?” Brambleclaw asked. “Something…” The tabby warrior paused. “…troubling you?” he meowed at last.

Lionpaw knew he couldn’t tell his father about Heatherpaw and how Hollypaw had stopped him from meeting her.

“It’s just…” He trailed off. How could he explain his anger?

“It feels like Hollypaw doesn’t trust me to be a loyal warrior.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “I know what that’s like.” He began padding through the trees again. Puzzled, Lionpaw hurried after him.

“Being Tigerstar’s son has meant I’ve had to win the trust of every ThunderClan cat over and over,” Brambleclaw went on quietly. “So I know how frustrating it is when you have to prove something that shouldn’t need proving.”

The leafy forest floor sloped upward before them and they sank their claws into the sweet-smelling earth to help them climb.

“The trouble is that everyone only saw evil in Tigerstar.

They forgot what a bold and brilliant warrior he was.”

Lionpaw pricked his ears. Was Brambleclaw defending Tigerstar?

“I haven’t forgotten how Tigerstar betrayed his Clan,” Brambleclaw meowed, as if he had noticed Lionpaw’s surprise. “But we all have strengths and weaknesses. It must be sad to be remembered only for your weaknesses. I hope I’ll be remembered for my strengths instead.”

“Of course you will be,” Lionpaw mewed. His fur prickled at the thought of his father being nothing but a memory.

“Every cat in the Clan respects you.”

“I wish that were true.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think there may be one Clanmate who wishes me harm.” The words came in a whisper.

Lionpaw’s heart lurched. “Who?”

Brambleclaw shook his head. “It’s not important. Forget I said anything.”

“But if there’s some cat you don’t trust—”

Brambleclaw cut him off. “If you want to be remembered for your strengths, you must work on them. And if that means proving yourself to those who doubt you, then do it.

You can’t force Hollypaw to believe in you. You have to show her that you are worth believing in.”

Lionpaw felt weariness weighting his paws. Why should he have to prove himself to Hollypaw? I haven’t done anything wrong!

Crack!

A stone clattered against the wall of the camp and thumped onto the ground outside the apprentices’ den.

Lionpaw lifted his head and blinked in the darkness. Was a rabbit foraging near the top of the hollow?

Crack!

Couldn’t be a rabbit. The first clatter would have sent it fleeing into the forest.

Curious, Lionpaw got quietly to his paws. He glanced at Hollypaw. She was sound asleep. Thank you, Brackenfur!

Hollypaw’s mentor had taken her hunting deep into the forest. She had come back exhausted, her paws sore, but happily carrying three mice.

Lionpaw slipped past her nest and ducked out of the den.

Crack!

Thump!

A pebble landed near his paws. He skittered backward and looked up cautiously. Two round eyes shone at him from the top of the cliff, then blinked.

Someone was spying on the camp! Should he tell someone? He glanced around the empty moonlit clearing. No cat stirred. He didn’t want to wake anyone until he was sure there was danger. He would look foolish if he called the alarm because some inquisitive fawn had discovered the hollow. He would investigate first and call the alarm if there really was any danger.

Whitewing’s pelt glowed at the camp entrance. She must be on guard. If there was trouble he could call to her.

Lionpaw slipped around the edge of the clearing and pushed his way among the brambles beside the medicine den.

He knew he could climb the cliff behind them. Reaching up through the prickly branches he felt the first ledge with his paws and hauled himself up. Then, moving carefully so as not to send grit showering down, he scrabbled up from ledge to ledge until finally he pulled himself onto the grass at the top.

Panting a little, he began to creep around the edge of the hollow.

“Lionpaw!” A soft mew hissed from beneath the ferns ahead. He froze as Heatherpaw slipped out from beneath the arching fronds. “Thank StarClan it’s you.”

“Did you drop those pebbles?” Lionpaw stared at her in alarm. What if she were caught here? “Is everything okay?”

“I had to see you!”

He felt a glow inside his chest. She was even braver than he thought. But he had to get her away from the camp.

“Follow me,” he hissed. He hared off lakeward down the slope. But Heatherpaw didn’t follow.

“Come on!” Lionpaw begged, skidding around and looking back.

Her eyes were shining. “Don’t go that way! I’ve got something to show you!” She turned and ducked away under the ferns.

Lionpaw hurried after her. “Where are we going?”

“Wait and see!”

She seemed to be heading toward the old fox den.

Lionpaw slowed down. “Be careful!” he warned.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “There aren’t any foxes.” She paused in front of the thick brambles that crowded the bottom of a steep slope. “Wait here.”

She dived beneath them, and Lionpaw watched her tail disappear into the dense foliage, making the bushes tremble.