Squirrelflight's Hope

Heart pounding, Squirrelflight ducked out of the den. I have to live. Sparkpelt needs me. She hurried to the medicine den and pushed through the brambles. The small hollow was gloomy despite the sunlight seeping down from the opening above the pool. Alderheart leaned into one of the nests, and as Squirrelflight padded closer, she could see him press his ear to the flank of the she-cat inside. Unease wormed through her pelt as she saw her body, unmoving. Leafpool lay beside her, and Jayfeather crouched with his chin resting on the edge of the nest. His blind blue gaze seemed empty of hope. If only he knew that Leafpool was probably chasing Cinderpelt across meadows in StarClan now, energy pulsing through her paws.

“Is there any herb we haven’t tried?” Alderheart blinked at Jayfeather expectantly.

Jayfeather stared ahead. “We’ve tried everything. We can only hope now.”

Squirrelflight wondered if prayers were any use. StarClan seemed as helpless to change destiny as any living cat. Her heart filled with love for Jayfeather and Alderheart. It seemed that they hadn’t moved for days. She’d been a mother to both of them, and her heart broke to see their sadness. She padded to Jayfeather’s side, the memory of StarClan’s judgment still fresh in her thoughts. Why should such a deceitful cat have a place in StarClan? How must it have felt for Jayfeather to discover that she wasn’t his mother? She’d lied to him since birth. Leafpool had too. Was that why he was so sharp with his Clanmates? Had bitterness hollowed out his heart? And yet she knew there was warmth there. His harshness was like snow in leaf-bare, hiding buds that would blossom when greenleaf returned. I have to live! She had so much still to share with him. “I’m sorry we deceived you,” she whispered, wondering if there was any way he might hear. He is a medicine cat, after all. “It was wrong of us. But I hope that one day you will let go of the hurt we caused you.” She swished her tail along his spine, hope sparking in her chest as she saw his pelt smooth a little.

Movement in the shadows at the edge of the den made her stiffen. Bramblestar had been there all along! She could taste his scent, but it was faint, as though he were far away. He padded to the nest where her body lay and sat beside Alderheart. “I wish I’d listened to her.” Bramblestar’s mew was husky with grief. Alderheart glanced at him, his pelt ruffling self-consciously as Bramblestar went on. “I ignored how strongly she felt. I didn’t want to hear about the Sisters. It made things too complicated. It was easier just to think about the Clans. But Squirrelflight could see beyond that. She knew that honor doesn’t mean anything if it can’t reach beyond our borders. Any cat can respect those they know and love. But respecting cats we don’t understand is truly being a warrior.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Alderheart murmured. “You were fighting for your Clan.”

“But Squirrelflight was my deputy,” Bramblestar argued. “And my mate. I should have taken her opinion seriously instead of brushing it aside.” His shoulders drooped. “If she dies, I don’t know if I can carry on being leader. I will be responsible for her death. I am not fit to lead my Clanmates if I don’t listen to them fairly.”

“No!” Squirrelflight darted to his side. “ThunderClan is more important than I am. Who else can lead it like you do?” She stared at him, willing him to hear, her heart aching with love for him, but he stared hopelessly at his paws.

“How did we lose sight of what mattered?” His mew was barely a whisper, but Squirrelflight could hear it as loudly as the wail of a kit. “Now I can feel it as strongly as ever. How did I forget how much I loved her?”

Squirrelflight pressed her muzzle against his. It felt like no more than air. But his scent was stronger now. It filled her mouth, bathed her tongue, flooded her chest. “Our love will always be there,” she breathed urgently. The ache in her heart seemed to draw his scent deeper. “Even when we lose sight of it, our love will still be there.”

Bramblestar slumped as though defeated.

Alderheart shifted his paws anxiously. “I’m sure she knew that you still loved her.” But he looked away, as though uncertain of his words. He got to his paws and headed for the entrance. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Squirrelflight hurried after the young tom as he nosed his way through the brambles. “I’m coming back!” she called after him as he padded into the clearing. Jayfeather had seemed comforted by her presence. Maybe Alderheart, too, could sense her assurances in some way? He crossed the camp. “Don’t worry.” She ducked after him through the entrance tunnel. “I’ll find my way back, I promise.”