The Forgotten Warrior

“Hi, Dovewing, Ivypool!” Foxleap called as they emerged from the thorns at the rear of Hollyleaf’s training patrol.

The last streaks of scarlet were fading from the sky and half the stone hollow lay in deep shadow. Most of the other patrols seemed to have returned, too, and almost the whole Clan was settling down to eat. Ivypool looked across the camp to see Foxleap sitting beside Bumblestripe near the fresh-kill pile.

“Come and share our squirrel!” Foxleap added.

Ivypool raced across the clearing with Dovewing at her shoulder. She noticed the welcoming purr that Bumblestripe gave her sister, and how he made room for her to sit next to him and eat.

“How was the training?” Foxleap prompted.

Every muscle in Ivypool’s body was aching as she flopped down and bit into the prey. “We learned loads,” she mumbled around the mouthful of fresh-kill.

“Yes, all about how to fight underground,” Dovewing put in. “You have to keep your moves small, and not bang your paws against the walls.”

“And Hollyleaf taught us to push off the tunnel wall and leap over our enemies,” Ivypool mewed, swallowing the squirrel. “That’s so you don’t get trapped.”

“Wow, it sounds tough!” Foxleap commented.

“It is,” Dovewing admitted, “but it’s kind of logical, too. You’ll see, when it’s your turn.”

“This is a great squirrel,” Ivypool meowed, taking another huge bite. “Who caught it?”

“Actually, it was me,” Bumblestripe confessed, giving his shoulder an embarrassed lick. “I was lucky to get it.”

“No, it was a brilliant catch,” Foxleap insisted. “Especially since you were on your own. Cinderheart was supposed to be in our hunting patrol,” he explained, “but she said she wanted to stay here in the hollow and help Jayfeather.”

Dovewing’s whiskers twitched in surprise. “What did Brambleclaw say?”

Bumblestripe shrugged. “Not much. What could he say? He would never challenge a medicine cat, would he?”

“But is Cinderheart a medicine cat?” Foxleap asked.

Ivypool felt a pang of sympathy for Cinderheart; she knew very well what it was like to have a paw in two worlds. But when the gray she-cat emerged a moment later from Jayfeather’s den and padded over to eat with Hollyleaf, she seemed contented enough.

Maybe she’s found her destiny after all, Ivypool thought.

A few moments later, Jayfeather emerged from the den and bounded across to the fresh-kill pile, where he chose a mouse for himself.

Cinderheart looked up from the vole she was sharing with Hollyleaf. “Jayfeather, should I sleep in your den from now on?”

Ivypool realized that the gray she-cat wasn’t contented at all. She was trying to put a brave face on her situation, but underneath it she seemed confused and unhappy.

“We wanted to talk to you about that,” Brackenfur mewed, padding up to Jayfeather with Sorreltail beside him. “About everything, really.”

“Yes,” Sorreltail joined in. “What does it all mean, that Cinderheart used to be Cinderpelt? Why has StarClan done this to her?”

Jayfeather shook his head. “I don’t know. It was their decision.”

Sorreltail padded up to her daughter and pressed her muzzle comfortingly against Cinderheart’s shoulder. “I love you for who you are,” she murmured. “And that is Cinderheart.”

Cinderheart looked up at her with pain in her blue eyes. “But I don’t know if I am Cinderheart anymore. Jayfeather, should I sleep in your den or not?”

Jayfeather hesitated. “You don’t have to, but—”

Millie interrupted by springing to her paws and stalking forward, her tail-tip twitching. “What about Briarlight?” she demanded. “I don’t want her moved out of the den just to make room for Cinderheart. What if she stops breathing in the night?”

“I don’t think that’s likely,” Jayfeather responded. He raised his tail to stop Millie as she drew breath for another protest. “But I don’t want Briarlight moved either,” he added. “She’s really useful where she is.”

Briarlight, who was sharing a sparrow with Graystripe, blinked. “I’m fine,” she mewed. “I don’t mind where I am.”

“But there isn’t room for three cats in there,” Brightheart pointed out, joining the discussion. “You’d all be really squashed.”

“And what if you need space for sick cats?” Leafpool added.

Ivypool felt her head start to spin as more cats joined in to add their opinions, and she couldn’t follow the argument anymore. A flash of flame caught her eye and she spotted Firestar bounding down from the Highledge.

“Brackenfur, Dustpelt,” the Clan leader meowed as he approached the fresh-kill pile, flicking his tail to summon the two toms. “Do you think that we could make more space in the medicine cat’s den, along with the warriors’ den?”

Dustpelt and Brackenfur turned to eye the fallen tree.

“It might work,” Dustpelt murmured, tilting his head to one side. “What do you think, Brackenfur? If we could move that branch there, and pack the space with brambles…”