Into The Wild

Firepaw prepared to spring toward the nursery, but a claw sliced painfully down his side and he whipped around to see a scrawny tortoiseshell leap on top of him. As he slammed into the ground, he tried to call out to the other ThunderClan cats that the kits were in danger. Fighting with all his strength to escape the tortoiseshell’s grip, he wrenched his head around so he could see the bramble nest.

Blackfoot had scooped two kits from their bedding already and was reaching in for a third.

Firepaw saw no more as the tortoiseshell raked his belly with her hind claws. Firepaw scrabbled onto his feet and crouched low, as if in defeat. The trick had worked before and it worked now. As the tortoiseshell gripped him triumphantly and began to sink her teeth into Firepaw’s neck, Firepaw sprang upward as hard as he could and flung the warrior away. He spun around and was on the winded warrior in an instant. This time he showed no mercy, plunging his teeth deep into the cat’s shoulder. The bite sent the she-cat howling into the undergrowth.

Firepaw jumped up, dashed over to the nursery, and thrust his head through the nursery entrance. Blackfoot was nowhere to be seen. Inside the nest, crouching over the terrified kits, was Yellowfang. Her gray fur was spattered with blood, and one of her eyes was painfully swollen. She looked up at Firepaw with a ferocious hiss, then, realizing it was him, she yowled, “They’re okay. I’ll protect them.”

Firepaw looked at her as she calmed the helpless kits, and Brokenstar’s dire warning about the ShadowClan rogue flashed through his mind. He didn’t have time to think about that now. He would have to trust Yellowfang. He nodded quickly and ducked back out of the brambles.

There were now only a few ShadowClan cats left in the camp. Ravenpaw and Graypaw were fighting side by side, lashing out at a black tom until he fled howling into the bushes. Whitestorm and Darkstripe chased the last two intruders out of the camp, sending them off with a few extra scratches and bites.

Firepaw sat down, exhausted, and stared around the camp. It was devastated. Blood spattered the clearing, and tufts of fur drifted in the dust. The surrounding wall of undergrowth was ripped open where the invaders had crashed through.

One by one, the ThunderClan cats gathered beneath the Highrock. Graypaw came to sit by him, his sides heaving and blood trickling from a torn ear. Ravenpaw flopped down and began to lick a wound on his tail. The queens ran to the nursery to check on their kits. Firepaw found himself waiting tensely for their return, his view blocked by the other cats. He relaxed when he heard squeals and purrs of joy coming from the bramble nest.

Frostfur wove her way back through the crowd, followed by Yellowfang. The white queen stepped forward and addressed them. “Our kits are all safe, thanks to Yellowfang. A ShadowClan warrior killed brave Rosetail and was trying to steal them from their nest, but Yellowfang fought him off.”

“It was no ordinary ShadowClan warrior either,” Firepaw put in. He was determined to let the Clan know how much they owed Yellowfang. “I saw him. It was Blackfoot.”

“The ShadowClan deputy!” meowed Brindleface, who had fought so bitterly to protect the unborn kits in her swollen belly.

There was a stir at the edge of the group, as Bluestar limped forward and made her way over to the apprentices. The grave expression on her face was enough to tell Firepaw that something was wrong.

“Spottedleaf is with Lionheart,” she murmured. “He was injured in the battle. It looks bad.” She turned her head toward the shadow on the far side of the Highrock where the warrior lay, a motionless bundle of dusty golden fur.

A high-pitched wail rose from Graypaw’s throat and he raced over to Lionheart. Spottedleaf, who had been leaning over the ThunderClan deputy, stepped back to let the young apprentice share tongues for the last time with his mentor. As Graypaw’s howl of grief echoed around the clearing, Firepaw’s fur tingled and his blood ran cold. It was the cry he had heard in his dream! For a moment his head swam; then he gave himself a shake. He had to keep calm, for Graypaw’s sake.

Firepaw looked at Bluestar, who nodded, and he padded over to join his friend by the Highrock. He stopped for a moment beside Spottedleaf.

She looked exhausted and dull-eyed with grief. “I can’t help Lionheart now,” she mewed quietly to him. “He is on his way to join StarClan.” She pressed her body against Firepaw’s side, and he felt comforted by the touch of her warm fur.

The other cats looked on in silence as the sun slowly set behind the trees. Finally Graypaw sat up and cried out, “He’s gone!” He lay down again beside Lionheart’s body and rested his head on his front paws. The rest of the Clan walked silently forward to carry out their own grieving rituals for their beloved deputy.