The SkyClan cats had been invited to share the fresh-kill pile, while Daisy guided Tinycloud into the nursery to rest and recover her strength while she waited for her kits to be born.
“Thank StarClan!” Tinycloud had exclaimed. “I think I have a whole Clan in here, and they’re all practicing their fighting moves!”
Now, the camp was peaceful. As soon as the sky began to pale toward dawn, Bramblestar and the other leaders had taken a patrol of uninjured RiverClan warriors, along with a few volunteers from the other Clans, to survey the damage in RiverClan territory and begin the task of rebuilding. Squirrelflight, left in charge of the camp, had sent out the border and hunting patrols, so that the hollow was much less crowded than it normally was these days.
Soothed by her father’s voice, Twigpaw could almost have fallen asleep, except for the uncertainty she felt about the future. She felt a strong pull toward this cat who looked so much like her, but she wondered whether they could even live together.
In the short time since the Clans had been reunited, some of the ThunderClan warriors had discussed the prophecy with her, with a new respect that Twigpaw had never sensed before.
“You may not be what the prophecy told the Clans to embrace,” Squirrelflight had meowed. “But you and Violetpaw are connected to the lost Clan. No cat still thinks it was an accident that you were brought here.”
“That’s true,” Graystripe had agreed. “Maybe it was meant to be? And maybe
Twigpaw hoped that was true.
Movement beside the thorn tunnel attracted Twigpaw’s gaze. Berrynose pushed his way into the camp, followed by Cherryfall. And following them was a third cat, a small black-and-white she-cat who was achingly familiar…
“Violetpaw!” she yowled, springing to her paws. “You’re alive!”
Twigpaw rushed across the camp to her littermate, relief almost sweeping her off her paws. Violetpaw stood still, staring at her, a flood of joy in her amber eyes, then bounded forward. The two young cats pressed against each other, drinking in each other’s scent, purring as if they would never stop.
“I’m sorry we ever fought!” Twigpaw gasped out at last. “I’m so happy, just seeing that you’re alive!”
“Alderheart told me you must be dead,” Violetpaw responded. “But I never gave up hope. And I’m sorry too: I should never have attacked you in the battle.”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Twigpaw assured her. “Besides, you’ve more than made up for it. Every cat says that without you, the rogues would never have been driven out of RiverClan territory.”
Violetpaw’s ears flicked up and her eyes widened in surprise. “The rogues have been driven out?”
“Yes, but only from RiverClan’s territory. The leaders were going to attack once the prisoners were exchanged,” Twigpaw told her, “but the prisoners rose up on their own! And with Darktail gone, the Kin were easily chased off. But they’ve just moved back over to ShadowClan’s land. Anyway, the leaders were worried about you. Alderheart said that Darktail took you away, and then came back with scratches and blood on his fur. They thought he’d done something horrible to you—that you might be dead!”
The joy faded from Violetpaw’s eyes. “Darktail took Needletail and me down to the lake,” she explained. “He was going to drown Needletail as a punishment for what I did, helping cats to escape from him. Roach and Raven and Sleekwhisker were there too.” She paused, swallowing, and Twigpaw rested her tail comfortingly on her sister’s shoulder.
“Needletail turned on them and attacked them,” Violetpaw continued after a moment. “She was so brave! She told me to run, and I did… But I should have stayed and fought beside her!”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Twigpaw meowed. “Two of you against four of those vicious cats? You would both have died, and Needletail would have given you a chance for nothing.”