The Forgotten Warrior

A sudden spurt of amusement bubbled up inside Dove-wing. “Yes! All those stories! Jumping down onto a dog’s back… please! I know we leaped out of trees when we were fighting ShadowClan, but you’d have to be totally mouse-brained to try it with a dog.”

“Oh, I’ve had enough of Sol,” Bumblestripe meowed. “Let’s not talk about him here as well. Toadstep told me how you won that race the other day. Do you want to race with me?”

“Great!” Dovewing responded. “Where to?”

“That tree stump over there?” Bumblestripe asked, angling his ears toward a stump at the edge of the forest farther along the shore.

Dovewing nodded and bounded off, her paws flicking up little stones behind her. For a few moments Bumblestripe kept pace with her, but soon she began to draw ahead. Wow, I really can run fast! But then Dovewing became aware of sounds from the other Clans across the lake: A RiverClan cat was fishing in the stream beside their camp, while in ShadowClan a gray-muzzled warrior was teaching his apprentice about night hunting.

She felt as though her senses were surging in and out, like a wave on the lake. Sometimes she picked up everything clearly, sometimes the images were blurred, but excitement and relief pulsed through her as she realized that she was recovering.

It just needed time, she thought. Lionblaze was right! My senses were overwhelmed by the journey to the mountains, that’s all.

Dovewing was so pleased to have her senses back, and was concentrating so hard, that she didn’t notice where she was putting her racing paws. Something coiled around one forepaw; Dovewing was flung down onto the pebbles, letting out a startled yowl that ended in a gasp as the breath was driven out of her body.

Bumblestripe flashed past her. Dovewing tried to scramble up and realized that an ivy tendril, snaking out from the edge of the trees, had tripped her. As she wrenched her paw free, Bumblestripe was by her side again.

“Are you okay?” he panted.

“Fine,” Dovewing replied, struggling to get her breath. Even though she felt battered from her fall, happiness was surging through her like a stream in flood. I haven’t lost my senses. Everything’s okay! “I’m absolutely fine,” she repeated.

Bumblestripe let her lean on his shoulder as she staggered to her paws, and stroked her pelt gently with his tail to get rid of the sand and grit. His eyes shone. “You would have won the race if you hadn’t tripped,” he mewed.

“Maybe.” Dovewing had almost forgotten the race; getting her senses back was so much more important. “You’re pretty fast, too.”

She began to pad back along the lakeshore, and Bumblestripe stayed close to her side. “Dovewing…” he began, sounding a little shy, “can I show you something?”

“Okay,” Dovewing agreed, only half-listening as she focused on a WindClan she-cat scolding her kits for putting a beetle in her nest.

“It’s this way.” Bumblestripe veered into the trees, and Dovewing followed, ferns brushing against her pelt on both sides.

Without following any path that Dovewing could see, they came to a tiny clearing where wild jasmine scrambled over a gnarled oak tree, forming an archway with a tiny space underneath it. A few white flowers had already appeared on the branches. Bumblestripe squeezed into the space, and beckoned Dovewing with his tail. She crept in after him, feeling his warmth against her side, and enjoying the sweet scent of the jasmine flowers.

“I’ve always loved this place,” Bumblestripe confided in her. “It’s even better in greenleaf, when all the flowers are out.” He blinked at her anxiously, and Dovewing realized he was afraid that she might make fun of him.

“It’s lovely,” she assured him.

Bumblestripe relaxed and lifted his muzzle to gaze upward; Dovewing spotted a gap between the branches through which they could see the stars.

“I like to look up at our ancestors,” he meowed. “Sometimes I wonder which ones are mine.” He hesitated, then added, “I think your ancestors would shine really brightly, Dovewing.”

“I don’t know about that,” Dovewing replied. “I think my ancestors would be hiding behind a cloud, because they were always getting into trouble!”

Bumblestripe let out a little mrrow of laughter. “I think that’s an ancestor of mine up there,” he murmured, pointing with his tail. “The one that looks as if it’s stuck in the branches!”

“I wonder if they’re watching us,” Dovewing mused. “Can they see everything we’re doing from up there?”

“I think they can,” Bumblestripe meowed seriously. “They glare down at us and see all the things we’re doing wrong. I bet that one over there knows all about the time I put fire ants in Blossomfall’s nest!”

“You didn’t!” Dovewing exclaimed, half-amused and half-shocked.