Darkest Night

Leafpool had told her that Finpaw was healing well but his spirits were low. Plumwillow had sat with him until he’d sent her away, and now he refused to have any visitors. Twigpaw had asked to see him, but Leafpool told her that he probably needed time to come to terms with losing part of his tail.

Paw steps pattered behind her. “Look at all the moss I’ve collected.” Dewpaw dumped a heap beside her. “Reedpaw’s followed the stream to find more. We are going to have the softest nests in the whole camp.”

“Perhaps we should take some to Finpaw,” Twigpaw suggested.

Dewpaw rolled his eyes. “Don’t make him too comfortable or he’ll never move out of the medicine den.”

“He doesn’t want to be there,” Twigpaw mewed defensively.

“Really?” Dewpaw sniffed. “I got the idea that he’s sort of enjoying feeling sorry for himself.”

Dewpaw sounded unsympathetic, but Twigpaw could see worry in the gray tom’s eyes. “Did he refuse to see you again today?” she asked gently.

“Yes.” Dewpaw sat down heavily. “I know it’s terrible that he lost part of his tail. I don’t know how I’d feel in the same situation. But he still has half of it, and being sad won’t help.”

“Leafpool says he needs time.”

“I need my brother.” Dewpaw looked despondently at the moss he’d gathered. “We should be sharing a den. It took us so long to become apprentices—we were so excited when it finally happened.” He glanced beseechingly at Twigpaw. “Would you go and see him?”

Twigpaw looked away, her pelt suddenly hot. “He won’t want to see me either.”

“Of course he will,” Dewpaw mewed eagerly. “If it weren’t for you, he might have died. You pulled him clear of the branch.”

“Not entirely clear,” Twigpaw mewed guilty.

“Clear enough.” Dewpaw leaned closer. “He won’t be able to send you away.”

“You mean he has to see me to be polite.”

“Exactly.” Dewpaw leaned back on his haunches. “I bet you can cheer him up.”

Twigpaw pulled up another fern, avoiding Dewpaw’s gaze. “Do you think so?” she asked shyly.

Dewpaw narrowed his eyes. “You like him, don’t you?”

“No!” Twigpaw shriveled inside her pelt. “He’s just a friend, that’s all.”

“We’re friends.” Dewpaw poked her. “But your fur doesn’t twitch when you talk about me.”

Twigpaw poked him back. “My fur does not twitch!”

Dewpaw changed the subject. “I hope some of those are for my nest.” He nodded at the pile of ferns.

“Of course.” Twigpaw blinked at him gratefully. She didn’t like being teased about Finpaw. “Let’s take them into the den, then I’ll see if Finpaw will let me visit.”

“Great.” Dewpaw got to his paws. “By the time you return from the medicine den, I’ll have our nests finished. We can start on Finpaw’s nest. When he moves in and Violetpaw gets back, it’ll be like a real apprentices’ den. Especially if they bring back more SkyClan cats.” He paused. “Perhaps we should make extra nests, just in case they find some apprentices.” He grabbed his pile of moss between his jaws and headed toward the camp entrance.

Twigpaw bundled the fern fronds together and began to drag them after him. Her thoughts wandered. Dewpaw, Reedpaw, and Finpaw had been so lucky, growing up together. If only ShadowClan had let Violetpaw stay in ThunderClan. Perhaps she would have ended up more like me. Twigpaw pushed the thought away. Sighing, she heaved the fronds to the entrance of the juniper bush.

“Twigpaw!” Dewpaw called from inside. “Reedpaw’s back.”

Reedpaw poked her head out of the den. “I found so much moss!” Her eyes shone. “It’s a bit damp, but it will dry out soon.”

Lost in thought, Twigpaw stared blankly at the small tabby she-cat. Would the journey to the gorge make Hawkwing and Violetpaw even closer?

Dewpaw pushed his way out of the den and began to rummage through Twigpaw’s pile of ferns. “Perhaps we should spread out the moss in the sunshine so it can dry while we’re weaving these.” He paused as he saw Twigpaw’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shook out her fur. She was being dumb. So what if Hawkwing and Violetpaw were close? SkyClan was a great home. She was living with kin at last. And Dewpaw was great. Reedpaw was friendly. And there was Finpaw. She glanced toward the medicine den, her heart quickening. “I’ll go and see him now,” she told Dewpaw.

“Say hi from me.”

As Dewpaw disappeared back inside the juniper bush, Twigpaw marched to the hollow beneath the cedar and stopped outside. “Leafpool?”

No cat replied. Twigpaw tasted the air. Leafpool’s scent was stale. She must be out gathering herbs or hunting. “Finpaw?” She mewed softly through the lichen, which Leafpool had draped over the entrance.

Ferns rustled inside.

“Are you awake?” she called softly.

“I am now.” Finpaw sounded grumpy.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t want any visitors.”

Twigpaw sniffed. She’d hung out with Alderheart long enough to know that no cat was cured by loneliness. “I’m coming in anyway.” She pushed though the lichen.