Squirrelflight's Hope

Outside camp, a warm breeze tugged leaves from the trees. Alderheart paused on the slope and looked up as they showered around him. He seemed to be searching the canopy. What was he hoping to see? Squirrelflight’s heart leaped. Was he looking for a sign from StarClan? A sign! That was how StarClan communicated with the medicine cats while they were awake—with an omen. Could she send him one? Something to tell him she was okay and was trying to get home?

She looked around frantically. Could she affect anything in the forest? She darted among the trees and pushed through ferns, hoping to stir them. They didn’t move, but a blackbird shrilled an alarm above her head. Could it sense her? She spotted it calling from the branch of an oak and raced toward the trunk. It fluttered away as she neared. She could scare prey! She spun around, her heart pounding. Alderheart was still standing outside the camp, gazing upward. She had to be quick. She zigzagged between the ferns, hoping to flush out a mouse. Bark splinters sprinkled her back. She looked up. A squirrel was bobbing along the branch above her head. A squirrel! It was perfect. If she could send it running across Alderheart’s path, he might see it and wonder what a squirrel was doing so close to the camp. Prey was usually wise enough to stay clear. He would have to realize it was a sign! She leaped for the trunk and hooked her claws into the bark. Not long ago she’d been chasing squirrels in StarClan. This was far more serious. She had to let ThunderClan know that she was trying to get home.

The squirrel looked over its shoulder as she hauled herself onto the branch. Confusion clouded its gaze, but its pelt fluffed in alarm. If it couldn’t see her, it could sense her. It raced to the end and leaped into the branches of the next tree. Squirrelflight chased after it, flinging herself from the oak, paws outstretched. Her heart leaped into her throat as she glided through the air. With a gasp, she caught hold of the flimsy twigs jutting from a branch and jerked herself forward, scrabbling onto the thicker wood beyond. The squirrel was near the trunk. It looked up. She couldn’t let it climb higher. She had to chase it toward Alderheart. She pushed hard against the bark, driving herself forward, and leaped for the trunk. Startled, the squirrel turned, fear-scent pulsing from it, and flung itself from the branch. It landed nimbly on the forest floor. Squirrelflight jumped after it, landing as softly as a shadow. She darted in front of it, startling it into turning, then chased it toward the camp.

Excitement fizzed through her pelt as it darted past Alderheart. His gaze flashed toward it, his eyes widening in surprise. She pulled up and blinked at him. Had he understood the message? It’s me, Squirrelflight. I’m coming home.

Alderheart seemed to freeze. He stared after the squirrel; then he shook out his pelt and padded back into camp.

Frustration knotted her belly. Please understand! Was this what it was like to be a StarClan cat—trying to communicate with the living, and never being sure if they understood? For the first time she wondered how many signs from StarClan they missed every day without knowing.

She sat back on her haunches. She’d done all she could. Her pelt prickled with unease. What if she could never get back? Would she be stranded in the forest forever, like the dead cats the Sisters saw? She shivered and pushed the thought away. What had happened to the Sisters? The battle seemed to have left the rest of ThunderClan unscarred. Had the Sisters escaped so lightly? What had happened to Moonlight’s kits?

As her thoughts quickened, the forest blurred around her. She blinked, suddenly dizzy, and found herself in the Sisters’ camp. Startled, she looked around. Hawkwing was yowling orders to a SkyClan patrol.

“We’ll build the warriors’ den over there.” He nodded toward a space between the birthing den and the den where Squirrelflight and Leafstar had slept. “And that gorse bush will make a good den for the elders.”

Macgyver and Plumwillow sniffed around the gorse. Macgyver slid beneath the branches and popped out a moment later.

“We can dig out a hollow around the stem,” he told Hawkwing. “The earth is dry and sandy. It won’t take long.”

Sandynose pushed through the fern entrance. “There are plenty of brambles and vines we can gather.” He padded toward Hawkwing. “We can get the camp weatherproof by leaf-bare.”

“Good.” Hawkwing looked pleased.

Squirrelflight tasted the air for faint signs of the Sisters. Where were they? SkyClan had clearly claimed this land as their own. Her heart quickened. Had they driven the Sisters away?