Squirrelflight's Hope

Frecklewish had reported at the last Gathering that Violetshine had given birth to Tree’s kits. Her sister, Twigbranch, had been overjoyed and had asked to be allowed to visit her new kin, but Bramblestar had been reluctant to let one of his warriors foster such close ties. “Violetshine is SkyClan. Twigbranch is ThunderClan,” he had said. “No good can come from such divided loyalties.”

Squirrelflight glanced at Tree as she followed Palesky through a clearing thick with brambles. “Twigbranch is dying to see them, but I think she’ll have to wait until their first Gathering.”

“Violetshine can’t wait to show them off.” Tree’s eyes shone.

The rain was falling more heavily now, drumming on the canopy and dripping into the forest. Squirrelflight shook drops from her pelt. Her heart quickened as they neared the camp. Would Leafstar be willing to listen to her?

The camp wall showed ahead and Palesky hurried forward. “Stay with her, Tree,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll warn Leafstar she’s coming.”

Warn? Squirrelflight’s ears twitched nervously. “I only want to speak with her,” she called as Palesky disappeared through the entrance tunnel.

“What do you want to speak to her about?” Tree asked.

Squirrelflight lifted her chin. She wasn’t used to being questioned by warriors. “You’ll hear when Leafstar wants you to hear.”

Tree glanced at her but said nothing and escorted her into camp.

Violetshine looked up as she entered. The young queen was sharing a mouse with Reedclaw beside the nursery, ignoring the rain dripping from their ears. Bellaleaf sheltered in the nursery entrance, lapping her swollen belly. Four kits were splashing noisily through the puddles already forming at the edge of the clearing. None of them were more than three moons old. The two smaller kits—one black-and-white and one yellow—stopped when they saw Tree and hurtled across the clearing to meet him.

The black-and-white she-kit reached him first. “Tree!”

Squirrelflight hopped out of the way as the other kit caught up and began weaving eagerly around Tree’s legs.

“Hi, Rootkit.” He cuffed the yellow tom-kit fondly with his paw, then nosed the black-and-white she-kit. “How’s it going, Needlekit?”

“Can you play with us now?” squeaked Needlekit.

“Violetshine says she’s tired.” Rootkit looked like a tiny version of Tree.

Tree purred. “I can play with you after our visitor has left.”

Needlekit looked up at Squirrelflight, her eyes widening. “Who are you?”

“I’m Squirrelflight.” Her heart ached with longing. How much longer would she have to wait to have her own kits? “I’ve come to speak with Leafstar.” She glanced at the two larger kits, left behind in the puddles. She hadn’t realized SkyClan had so many kits. They would need all the territory they could get soon. “Who are they?”

“Reedclaw’s kits,” Tree told her. “Kitekit and Turtlekit.”

“They’re going to be apprentices a whole moon before us.” Needlekit looked indignant. “But Frecklewish says we’re growing really fast. We’ll be as big as them soon.”

Rootkit was sniffing Squirrelflight warily. “You don’t smell like us,” he mewed.

“I don’t smell like SkyClan,” Squirrelflight told him. “I’m from ThunderClan.”

Rootkit pricked his ears. “Like Twigbranch?”

“Yes.” Squirrelflight purred. Violetshine must have told them about their ThunderClan kin. She gazed around the clearing. Harrybrook and Plumwillow were watching her from the other side of the camp. Frecklewish glanced up from the herbs she was sorting outside the medicine-cat den. Dewspring and Nectarsong stared at her from beside the fresh-kill pile.

Macgyver padded sleepily from the warriors’ den, his nose twitching. “I smell ThunderClan.”

Needlekit bounded toward him, her black chest puffed out. “It’s Squirrelflight. She’s come to visit.”

As Macgyver turned his watchful gaze on Squirrelflight, Palesky ducked out of a den, and Leafstar and Hawkwing slid out after her, their eyes dark with suspicion.

“Squirrelflight,” Leafstar greeted her coldly, stopping a tail-length away. “What do you want? Where is Bramblestar?”

“I was hoping to talk to you.” Squirrelflight shifted her paws as the SkyClan leader glared at her. “Alone.”

Hawkwing narrowed his eyes. “I think you said enough at the meeting.”

“But I didn’t,” Squirrelflight meowed quickly. “If I had, things might be different. I just want to see if we can come to an agreement.” The curious stares of the SkyClan warriors, watching from around the clearing, seemed to burn through her pelt. “Perhaps we could talk somewhere private.”

Leafstar didn’t move. Rain ran along her whiskers.

Squirrelflight lowered her voice. “I don’t want to put ideas into the heads of your Clanmates.”

Leafstar snorted. “You seemed happy to put them into the heads of the other Clans.”

“I’m sorry.” Squirrelflight dipped her head. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken out, but I was trying to keep the peace.”

“At our expense, as usual,” muttered Hawkwing.