Lost Stars

“You’re welcome,” Bristlepaw responded as she began backing out of the den. The sooner the wretched thing is eaten and I can forget about it, the better. “Enjoy.”

Leaving the elders to share the vole, Bristlepaw headed back into the camp, looking around for Rosepetal. She couldn’t see her mentor, but before she had gone many paw steps, Stemleaf bounded up to her and fell into step beside her.

Bristlepaw felt her heart start to thump, and every hair on her pelt grew warm at Stemleaf’s closeness. She remembered seeing him in the crowd of cats around the SkyClan patrol. I wonder what he thought about that?

“I see you have an admirer,” Stemleaf meowed. “How long has Rootpaw been padding after you?”

Bristlepaw halted, staring at Stemleaf in shock. “Rootpaw isn’t padding after me!” she choked out.

Stemleaf’s gaze was teasing but still kind. “Come on—how many cats go out of their way to do nice things for a cat from another Clan?”

Oh, no! Bristlepaw thought, still staring at Stemleaf. Maybe he’s right. Maybe Rootpaw does like me like that!

“So what if he is, then,” she responded, trying to make her voice calm and detached. “He’s just a mouse-brained apprentice.”

“Well, he can’t be that mouse-brained,” Stemleaf purred. “No cat could be, when he’s chosen a great cat like you.”

Bristlepaw blinked, hardly able to believe what Stemleaf had just said. “Oh . . . uh . . . thanks,” she stammered.

Stemleaf just gave her a friendly nod and bounded off toward the fresh-kill pile, where Spotfur and Cinderheart were sharing prey.

Looking after him, Bristlepaw felt as if her paws were floating several tail-lengths above the camp floor. That’s the nicest thing Stemleaf has ever said to me! He must feel for me what I feel for him!

All her embarrassment over Rootpaw’s visit was swept away and forgotten. Instead she felt grateful to the young cat. He had made Stemleaf realize his feelings for her! Once again she pictured a time when she and Stemleaf would be mates, hunting and fighting side by side for their Clan. Only one thing stood in the way now of that dream coming true:

I have to pass my assessment.

When Bristlepaw emerged from her den the next morning, dawn light had barely begun to seep into the sky, and a few stars still glimmered overhead. Thriftpaw and Flippaw remained curled up in their bedding, their whiskers quivering in time with their snores, but Bristlepaw felt her whole body surge with energy.

This is the day!

Outside the warriors’ den, Squirrelflight was arranging the dawn patrols. Bristlepaw arched her back in a long stretch as she watched Twigbranch lead out one group and Molewhisker a second; she noticed with satisfaction that Rosepetal wasn’t among them.

After the patrols left, Bristlepaw hurried over to the warriors’ den and slid through the outer branches. Rosepetal was buried deep in her nest of bracken, only the curve of her cream-colored back visible among the reddish-brown fronds. For a moment Bristlepaw felt nervous about waking her, especially as she wasn’t supposed to be in the warriors’ den at all, but her determination urged her on. She picked her way over to her mentor, careful not to wake the sleeping Thornclaw as she skirted his nest.

Rosepetal let out a grunt as Bristlepaw prodded her with one paw. “Wha—? Is it badgers?” she muttered.

“No, Rosepetal, it’s me,” Bristlepaw replied. “Can I do my assessment today?”

Immediately Rosepetal was awake, sitting up and shaking scraps of moss from her pelt. “Are you sure?” she asked. “No cat is judging you for what happened last time, and conditions aren’t any better.”

“I’m sure,” Bristlepaw responded confidently. “I’m ready. I can do it.” And then I can be with Stemleaf.

Rosepetal hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I’ll go tell Bramblestar.”

Bristlepaw padded back to her own den to wait while her mentor spoke to the Clan leader. Her littermates were just emerging, yawning and shivering in the cold air.

“I’m going to do my assessment again,” Bristlepaw announced, beginning to give herself a quick grooming.

Her brother and sister brightened up immediately. “Wow!” Flippaw exclaimed. “Good luck.”

“Yeah,” Thriftpaw added. “I’m sure you’ll do great this time.”

“Thanks,” Bristlepaw responded. Some cats would be jealous, but Flippaw and Thriftpaw are so supportive!

Before Rosepetal returned, Bristlepaw realized that news of her assessment was spreading through the camp. Her parents, Ivypool and Fernsong, padded over to wish her good luck, along with Squirrelflight and Bramblestar himself.