Night Whispers

A pure-white she-cat was crossing the clearing toward a small pile of mangy-looking prey. Was that a dead frog lying on the top? Ivypaw shivered. The white warrior sniffed at it and carried a piece back toward her den. Ivypaw recognized Olivenose squeezing out.

“Do you want to share this?” the white warrior offered.

“Thanks, Snowbird.” Olivenose called back over her shoulder, “Do you want to share a vole, Owlclaw?”

Ivypaw chewed on her mouse, a little surprised to see that the ShadowClan camp worked just like ThunderClan’s. What did you expect? Mice and squirrels doing the work for them?

Rowanclaw ducked into Blackstar’s den and emerged a few moments later with the ShadowClan leader. They talked for a few moments before Rowanclaw lifted his chin and called to the Clan, “Let all those ready to hunt gather for patrol.”

Pelts swarmed around him. Ivypaw strained to recognize as many warriors as she could. The shapes and colors of these cats were so like ThunderClan, more than stunted WindClan or the fat, sleek RiverClan cats.

“Ratscar, Scorchfur, Snowbird, and Applefur.” Rowanclaw nodded to each one. “You will lead the hunting patrols today. Redwillow, you take the border patrol. Tigerheart, Shrewfoot, and Crowfrost”—he flicked his tail—“you’ll be coming with me.”

Tawnypelt flicked her tail. “The snow has drifted over the training ground,” she reported. “We need to find a more sheltered clearing, or else train in camp.”

Rowanclaw nodded. “If anyone finds a suitable training area, let me know. Until then, battle training will take place here.”

The kits burst out of the dirtplace tunnel.

“Is that strange cat still here?” Sparrowkit squeaked. “The one Tigerheart brought back last night?”

The warriors glanced at one another, surprised. Ivypaw stiffened as, one by one, the cats began to turn and stare at the sheltered corner where she was crouching. She wasn’t going to hide like she’d done something wrong to their precious territory. Puffing out her chest, she padded out from behind the brambles and met their gaze.

Rowanclaw took the center of the clearing. “Tigerheart found a ThunderClan apprentice inside our scent line last night,” he announced.

Pelts bristled behind him.

“Was she alone?” Ratscar demanded.

“The patrol didn’t find any other cats,” Rowanclaw answered. “No warrior scent has been found.”

“Are you sure?” Olivenose flattened her ears. “They could be trying to take more of our territory!”

“We’re not!” Ivypaw couldn’t stop herself calling out.

Starlingpaw turned on her, bristling. “Be quiet!”

Ivypaw scowled at him as Tawnypelt padded forward and turned to her Clanmates. “She’s just an apprentice.”

Rowanclaw sat down and wrapped his tail over his paws. “We’re holding her for now,” he meowed. “No doubt ThunderClan will look for her soon. Until then, she’s no threat.”

“Yeah,” grunted Starlingpaw. “No threat.”

Ivypaw fought the urge to cuff him around the ear.

Rowanclaw flexed his claws. “The patrols must leave,” he ordered. “We can’t waste hunting time.”

Ratscar, Scorchfur, Snowbird, and Applefur began to weave among their Clanmates, assembling their patrols. Within moments they were thundering through the brambles, out into the pine forest.

A tiny mew made Ivypaw turn. “Hey, Thundercat!”

Sparrowkit had leaped past the bramble screen and was facing her, back arched and fur on end. Ivypaw broke into a purr as Dewkit leaped out after him and Mistkit peeped, trembling, around the prickly stems.

“Can you fly?” Sparrowkit demanded.

Ivypaw blinked. “Fly?”

“The warriors said you flew down from the trees in the battle.”

“Oh, yes.” Ivypaw nodded. “All ThunderClan cats can fly.”

“Liar,” growled Starlingpaw.

Ivypaw shrugged. “It’s not my fault that ShadowClan kits have poppy seeds for brains.”

Sparrowkit raced at her, spitting. “No we don’t.”

Ivypaw ducked and snarled in his face, baring her teeth. The kit’s pelt bushed, and his eyes widened with terror. “Kinkfur! Help!” With a squeal, he turned and hared away. Mistkit and Dewkit went wailing after him.

Starlingpaw turned on her. “What did you do that for?”

“Sorry.” Ivypaw winced. “I didn’t think I’d scare them that much.” Her pelt burned. “I was just joking.”

“Those kits have been raised on tales about ThunderClan warriors who eat kits for fun!” Starlingpaw snapped.

Ivypaw stared at him. “Really?”

“They’ll have bad dreams for days.”

“Let me go and apologize,” Ivypaw offered.

The brambles rustled, and Blackstar stalked in. “You will apologize,” he growled. “But not yet.”

Ivypaw straightened up. Blackstar was huge. His one black paw was the size of her head. “I’m really sorry,” she mewed.

Blackstar’s whiskers twitched. “Don’t worry. We’re not going to put you on the fresh-kill pile yet.” His eyes seemed to glow. Was he amused? He scanned the corner she’d been held in, glancing down at the half-eaten mouse at her paws. “Sorry to keep you like this. Have you had enough to eat?”