Outcast

Hollypaw raked her claws in the ground in frustration.

“But you didn’t see it,” she protested. “It was really scary.”

Brambleclaw’s tail tip flicked. “Fighting is scary,” he pointed out. “If we have to fight another Clan, they won’t sheathe their claws.”

“But we’re not fighting another Clan now.”

“Sooner or later there will be a battle, and we have to be ready for it. One day Lionpaw will need all his skills. I’m proud of him. I’m proud of all my kits: Lionpaw is a brilliant fighter, Leafpool tells me Jaypaw knows all the herbs already…”

“And what about me?” Hollypaw asked, trying to push down a pang of jealousy. Aren’t I special too?

Brambleclaw leaned over to give her ear a comforting lick.

“You’re my little thinker,” he purred. “I rely on you to make the best decisions—and to keep your brothers in line!”

Hollypaw brightened. That was a skill she would need if she was ever to be Clan leader.

“Good,” Brambleclaw mewed. “Now, what about this hunting patrol?”

“But why can’t Berrynose come?” Honeypaw complained.

“Because he’s the most annoying furball in the forest,” Hollypaw muttered through gritted teeth, though not loud enough for her friend to hear her.

Sandstorm and Honeypaw had joined Brambleclaw and Hollypaw on the hunting patrol. Honeypaw hadn’t arrived at the training session until it was almost over, and she had kept trying to tell every cat how much better Berrynose could perform the fighting techniques. Now Hollypaw was finding it hard to sense prey, because her fellow apprentice was still meowing on about the cream-colored warrior.

“Berrynose was on the dawn patrol,” Sandstorm explained, with more patience than Hollypaw could have mustered. “He deserves a rest.”

“But we’d catch much more if he was with us,” Honeypaw insisted. “He’s a brilliant hunter.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do the best we can without him,” Sandstorm mewed.

Hollypaw thought that Honeypaw must have missed the sarcastic edge to the ginger she-cat’s tone. She just kept on babbling about Berrynose until Hollypaw wanted to wrap her tail around her friend’s muzzle to keep it shut. Exasperated, she ran ahead a little way, trying to get out of range of Honeypaw’s voice.

Sunhigh was just past. Golden rays warmed Hollypaw’s fur, while her paws padded through cool, lush grass. The trees were thick with birdsong and the air was laden with fresh green scents. She bounded forward until the sound of the patrol had faded behind her. At the top of a rise, she halted.

Ahead of her, trees grew closer together, the spaces between them choked by bracken and briar, and for a few heartbeats she wasn’t sure where she was. She was a long way past the entrance to the tunnels, and she couldn’t spot any other familiar landmarks. Then she picked up the faint sound of running water and realized that she stood at the very edge of ThunderClan’s hunting territory, not far from the WindClan border.

Everything around her was peaceful, but something made Hollypaw’s fur prickle with apprehension. Her paws were tugging her to run back and find the rest of the patrol. You’re not a kit! she scolded herself. This is ThunderClan territory. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

She would go back, she decided, but she would catch a piece of prey first, just to prove to herself that she wasn’t a coward who ran away from nothing. She raised her head and opened her jaws to draw in a long breath.

Cat scent! Hollypaw tasted it carefully, wondering if WindClan was trespassing on ThunderClan territory again.

But it wasn’t WindClan scent. It wasn’t any cat scent Hollypaw had encountered before. Had a group of rogues invaded the territory?

“Are you okay?”

Hollypaw let out a long breath of relief at the sound of her father’s voice. She turned to see Brambleclaw padding up to her, his powerful shoulders brushing through the bracken.

Sandstorm and Honeypaw followed a little way behind.

“I’m fine,” Hollypaw replied, trying to hide how the strange scent had spooked her. “I can scent cats, but it’s not any scent I know.”

Brambleclaw tasted the air, then glanced sharply at Sandstorm, who was doing the same. The ginger she-cat took a pace toward him and murmured something in his ear; Brambleclaw nodded. His amber eyes looked troubled.

“Run back to camp, as fast as you can,” he meowed to both apprentices. “Tell Firestar to send more warriors.”

“But not Stormfur or Brook,” Sandstorm added.

Hollypaw couldn’t understand the urgency in the warriors’ voices. The tension in their fur crackled like greenleaf lightning.

“What is it?” Honeypaw asked. “What’s the matter?”

“We can’t leave you here if there’s danger,” Hollypaw protested.

“Just do as you’re told!” Sandstorm snapped.

“There’s no danger,” Brambleclaw added quietly. “But we need more warriors. Go now.”