Outcast

“Terrifying.” Memory glowed in Stormfur’s amber eyes, fear and courage, humor and friendship, all at once. “I don’t know what was harder—traveling through unfamiliar, dangerous territory, or trying to get along with cats from other Clans. We all came back changed.” He paused to rasp his tongue over his shoulder, and then went on. “At first we seemed to argue all the time. But it was usually your father who had the best ideas, and pretty soon we realized that he was the natural leader among us.”

“Tell me what happened,” Lionpaw prompted.

“Four cats, one in each Clan, had a dream telling them to go to the sun-drown-place,” Stormfur began. “They were supposed to listen to what midnight told them. None of us realized that Midnight was a badger.”

Lionpaw nodded; he and his littermates had never met the badger who helped the Clans find their new home, but his mother had told them stories about her.

“It must have been really hard,” Lionpaw mewed, trying to imagine getting along with cats from other Clans. Okay, he’d been friendly with Heatherpaw, but suppose he’d had to cooperate with Breezepaw or warriors from ShadowClan?

“It wasn’t all bad,” Stormfur replied. His tail curled in amusement. “There was the time your mother got stuck in a Twoleg fence. She was spitting with fury, and she couldn’t move!”

Lionpaw let out a little mrrow of laughter, imagining Squirrelflight stuck and furious. “Did my father rescue her?”

Stormfur shook his head. “No. Brambleclaw was thinking about digging up the fence post, and I thought we might bite through the shiny fence stuff. Meanwhile Tawnypelt and Feathertail smoothed down your mother’s fur with some dock leaves and got her out that way.”

“I wish I’d been there,” Lionpaw mewed.

“I wouldn’t have missed it. Even though we were scared a lot of the time, or tired, or hungry, we all knew we were doing our best to help our Clans.”

“And you became really good friends with my father.”

Stormfur twitched his whiskers. “We weren’t all that friendly to begin with. I was jealous of Brambleclaw.”

“Why?” Lionpaw asked, surprised.

“Because I liked your mother too much. But a blind rabbit could have seen that Brambleclaw was the cat she liked best, even though they spent most of their time arguing.”

“You liked Squirrelflight?” Lionpaw blinked in astonishment. Suppose Stormfur had been his father instead of Brambleclaw? I would have been a different cat…

“I’d never met a cat like her,” Stormfur admitted. “So bright and brave and determined, even though she was only an apprentice then. But then we stayed with the Tribe in the mountains, and when I met Brook I knew that she was the right cat for me.”

His amber eyes clouded and he fell silent. Lionpaw couldn’t understand why he should look like that, when he’d been talking about finding Brook. “What’s the matter?”

Stormfur let out a long sigh. “My sister, Feathertail, was with us on the journey,” he explained. “She was a beautiful, warm-hearted cat. She died in the mountains.”

Lionpaw dared to reach out with his tail and rest it on the gray warrior’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“The Tribe was being hunted by a mountain lion. There was a prophecy that a silver cat would come to save them. At first they thought it was me, but it was Feathertail. She died saving them.” His voice shook. “I had to leave her there, buried in the mountains.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lionpaw mewed, trying to imagine what he would feel like if Hollypaw died.

Stormfur licked his chest fur a few times and jerked his head as if he was shaking off a fly. “Moons pass, and you have to carry on.”

“I hope you didn’t mind my asking.”

“Of course not.” Stormfur sounded more like himself again. “You can ask me anything you like. If I can help at all, I’ll be glad to.”

“Thanks.” Lionpaw felt as warm and comforted as if he’d just eaten a plump piece of fresh-kill. “It’s easier talking to you than to a ThunderClan cat—oh, sorry.” He broke off, scuffling his paws with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean—”

“That’s okay,” Stormfur meowed. “I know what you meant.

It’s true that I’m only a visitor here, however loyal I feel toward Firestar and your father and the other ThunderClan cats.”

“Where do you feel most at home?” Lionpaw mewed curiously. “In RiverClan, or with the Tribe of Rushing Water, or in ThunderClan?”

Stormfur didn’t reply at once. His eyes grew thoughtful; he licked one paw and drew it over his ear a few times. “I’m a RiverClan cat at heart,” he replied at last. “That’s where I grew up and where I became a warrior. But that was back in the forest, and no cat has a home there now. Right now I feel loyal to ThunderClan, because you welcomed me and Brook.

And it’s good to live in the same Clan as Graystripe and get to know him better.”

“Will you stay here forever?”

“I don’t know. This isn’t Brook’s home, and if she doesn’t want to stay, I won’t force her.”

“Why don’t you go back to the mountains, then?”

A somber look crept into Stormfur’s eyes. “It’s not that easy.”