Firestar’s Quest

“I’m sorry.” Firestar bent his head and touched Sootpaw’s forehead with his nose. Only five moons had passed since the young cat’s father, Whitestorm, had died in the battle with BloodClan. How could StarClan let this happen? “She died bravely, like a warrior.”

“She died saving me!” Sootpaw’s voice was shrill with anguish.

“Don’t blame yourself.” Firestar gave his shoulder a comforting lick. “Willowpelt knew what she was doing.”

“But she…” Sootpaw fell silent, trembling with shock, and pushed his nose into his mother’s fur.

Firestar looked up to see Thornclaw and Ashfur returning; Ashfur was limping heavily.

“It’s gone toward the Thunderpath,” Thornclaw reported.

“I hope a monster gets it.” He padded over to Sootpaw and sat beside him, looping his tail over the young cat’s shoulders.

Sootpaw didn’t look up.

“Are you okay?” Firestar asked Ashfur.

The younger warrior flexed his shoulder muscles. “I think so. I landed hard; that’s all.”

“Better let Cinderpelt take a look anyway, when we get back to camp.”

Ashfur nodded. Together he and Firestar lifted Willowpelt’s limp body and began to carry her back to the ravine.

Her drooping tail scored a faint line in the dust. Thornclaw followed, leading the stunned Sootpaw.

Wrapped in grief, Firestar didn’t notice the sound or scent of approaching cats until Cloudtail emerged from a clump of bracken almost under his paws.

“Firestar, you’re back!” the white warrior exclaimed. “Are you—” He broke off, his blue eyes flaring with alarm. “That’s Willowpelt. What happened?”

Dustpelt and Brackenfur joined Cloudtail to listen, horrified, as Firestar set down the dead warrior and described how she had given her life to save Sootpaw.

“Let me get my claws on that badger,” Cloudtail hissed when Firestar had finished. “I’ll make it wish it had never been kitted.”

“Shouldn’t we follow it?” Dustpelt suggested. “We should make sure it really has gone.”

Firestar nodded. “It headed for the Thunderpath,” he meowed. “Cloudtail, take your patrol and see if you can pick up its scent. Follow it and find out what it does, if you can, but don’t attack it. Is that clear?”

Cloudtail lashed his tail. “If you say so.”

“If it settles in our territory, we’ll make a plan to get rid of it,” Firestar promised. “But I won’t risk losing more cats unless I have to.”

Muttering under his breath, Cloudtail led his patrol back along the trail toward Snakerocks. Great StarClan, let them all come back, Firestar prayed as they vanished into the undergrowth.

Firestar’s legs felt heavy with exhaustion as he and Ashfur struggled to maneuver Willowpelt’s body through the gorse tunnel. Pain for his Clanmates stabbed deep into his heart.

He was their leader; he was supposed to protect them, not let cats die when he was with them.

When he reached the clearing, Graystripe and Sandstorm were sitting together by the fresh-kill pile. They exchanged a questioning glance when they spotted him; Firestar guessed they were wondering why he had spent the night away from camp. SkyClan’s troubles crashed over him again, heavier than the weight of Willowpelt’s body, but he had to push them away. There was no time to think of the lost Clan now.

Both cats sprang up and raced over to him.

“Firestar, what happened?” Graystripe asked.

“I’ll tell you soon,” Firestar promised hoarsely. “I have to take Willowpelt to Cinderpelt first, so she can prepare for the vigil.”

“I’ll let her know.” Sandstorm spun around and sped off to the medicine cat’s den.

By the time Firestar and Ashfur had crossed the camp, Cinderpelt had emerged from the fern tunnel.

“Lay her body there,” she directed, pointing with her tail to a shady spot under the ferns. “She’ll be out of the sun until dusk falls.”

The two cats did as she suggested; Sootpaw settled down beside his mother’s body as if his legs couldn’t hold him up another moment. His eyes stared into the distance, glazed with horror, as if he couldn’t stop reliving that terrible moment.

“Sootpaw needs something for shock,” Firestar murmured to Cinderpelt. “And Ashfur might have damaged his shoulder.”

The medicine cat nodded. “I’ll fetch him some poppyseeds. Ashfur, come with me.”

As the gray warrior followed Cinderpelt to her den, another shriek sounded from the opposite side of the camp. Firestar’s head whipped around, and he saw Rainpaw and Sorrelpaw racing across from the apprentice’s den. Sorrelpaw flung herself down beside her mother’s body, pressing herself against her cold flank, while Rainpaw halted in front of Firestar.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“A badger killed her,” Firestar replied. “I’m sorry, Rainpaw.

No cat could have stopped it.”

The apprentice glared at him for a moment more, his fur bristling. Then his head and tail drooped and he turned away without a word, to settle down beside his brother and sister.

“They’ll all need Cinderpelt to look after them,” Sandstorm murmured.