Lost Stars

I am a warrior, she reminded herself. I have a job to do.

Stemleaf tried to catch her eye, beckoning with his tail in a welcoming gesture, but Bristlefrost wasn’t ready to face him yet. Instead she looked away, focusing on Bramblestar, who was issuing some final instructions, with Squirrelflight by his side.

“I know prey is scarce,” he meowed. “But you shouldn’t bother coming back until you have something to show for your efforts. If you’re real warriors, you’ll freeze your paws off if you have to, for the survival of your Clan.”

As she listened, Bristlefrost grew uneasy at the tone of her leader’s words. His voice sounded rougher than usual, not like the calm, measured leader Bristlefrost had always admired.

Squirrelflight seemed to share her misgivings. “Aren’t you being a little harsh?” she murmured to Bramblestar. “All the warriors are doing their best under very difficult conditions.”

Bramblestar whipped his head around to face her, a hostile light in his eyes. “You would make excuses for them,” he snapped. “You always had a soft spot for weak cats.”

Squirrelflight stared at him as if she couldn’t believe what he had said to her. Bristlefrost heard one or two stifled gasps from the cats around her and saw them exchanging uncomfortable glances.

Every cat knew that not many moons had passed since Squirrelflight and Leafpool had been gravely injured in a rockslide. Leafpool had died, and Squirrelflight had nearly died, her spirit walking in StarClan as her body healed. In part, it was her love for Bramblestar, and his for her, that had drawn her back into the living world.

So why is he being so mean to her now?

A heartbeat later, Bramblestar seemed to realize that he had gone too far. “I’m sorry if I’m being too stern,” he mumbled. “It’s just that my responsibilities as leader are weighing more heavily on me in these hard times. I can’t just stand by and see my Clan starve.”

“It’s okay,” Squirrelflight mewed, touching his shoulder with her tail-tip. “We understand.”

Maybe you do, Bristlefrost thought. I’m not sure I could be so forgiving.

“I’ll lead this hunt myself,” Bramblestar announced abruptly. Without another word, he stalked off toward the camp entrance. Squirrelflight gathered the remaining warriors with a wave of her tail, and they followed their Clan leader out into the forest.

“Was that weird or what?”

Bristlefrost started as she realized that Stemleaf had fallen into step beside her. For a moment she was so concerned by what she had just heard and seen that she scarcely reacted to having the cat she loved padding along so close to her. She simply nodded, wide-eyed, then slowed her pace until she was trailing behind the rest of the group.

Bristlefrost knew that this leaf-bare had been tough on every cat. They were all getting more irritable than usual. But if even Bramblestar, usually so even-tempered, was being affected, perhaps things were worse than she had realized.

This just shows that Rosepetal is right, she thought. I have to dedicate myself to being the best warrior I can be. Nothing is more important than ThunderClan’s survival—not even my heart.

The cats padded through the snow-covered forest, their ears pricked for the least sound and their jaws parted to taste the air for the scent of prey. Soon Bristlefrost’s paws were so numb she couldn’t feel them, and even her thick gray pelt was no protection against the probing claws of cold.

Now and again Bramblestar would signal with his tail for the hunting patrol to halt. They would raise their noses in the air, checking even more carefully for scent on every passing breeze. But however hard they tried, no cat could pick up the least trace of prey.

Moving along after one of these stops, Bristlefrost noticed that there was something strange about the way that Bramblestar was walking. Usually the ThunderClan leader passed through the forest as silent as the wind. Now he slammed his paws down, breaking twigs and crushing dead leaves.

If there is any prey out here, he’ll drive it all away, making that racket, Bristlefrost thought.

Squirrelflight was staring uneasily at Bramblestar as he blundered around a tree stump and stumbled over a projecting root.

“Bramblestar,” she began, bounding up to him, “are you—”

Bramblestar turned on her savagely. “For StarClan’s sake,” he hissed, “leave me alone! I’m fine. I don’t need—”

He broke off with a choking cry. Bristlefrost watched in horror as his legs buckled and he sank to the ground. He made one attempt to rise, his forepaws scrabbling in the snow, then flopped back into an unmoving heap.