His breath was soft on her cheek. Just like it had been when they’d sat together in the old Twoleg place, away from Clan territory, alone beneath the moon.
“Tigerheart!” Ratscar’s yowl made her jerk away. The ShadowClan warrior was on the other side of the brambles.
“Coming!” Tigerheart scrambled under the bush. “Meet me tonight!” he hissed at Dovewing. “I’ll wait for you here.”
Trembling, Dovewing turned and ran.
An orange pelt flashed in front of her. Skidding, Dovewing stumbled to a halt, missing Firestar by a whisker.
He reared back, surprised. “Dovewing!” Finding his paws, he stared at her. “Sorry. I was thinking about something. I didn’t even hear you coming.”
“I should have been looking where I was going.”
He gazed at her sympathetically. “Were you worrying, too?”
“…listening for danger?”
Dovewing bristled.
The ThunderClan leader shook his head. “It’s hard knowing, isn’t it?”
Dovewing frowned. “You mean, knowing about the Dark Forest?”
“Yes.” Firestar stared deep into the forest. “The Clan feels it too, even if they don’t know what the danger is. They know something’s wrong. I ordered them to increase patrols and reinforce the dens. They’re not mouse-brains. They sense danger.” He suddenly turned toward her. “Are
Dovewing straightened. “I can handle it.”
“I know.” Firestar tipped his head. “But make sure you’re getting enough prey and rest, and remember…” He paused, glancing into the trees once more. “…the final responsibility is mine. You don’t hold the whole Clan in your paws. I just need you to do what you can.” He lifted his chin. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
Chapter 6
Ivypool yawned, arching her back till her legs trembled. She was aware of every muscle tensed beneath her skin, each one a little stronger after another night’s training in the Dark Forest. Now that she was mentoring Birchfall and Redwillow, she woke with fewer wounds, but weary from the effort of demonstrating moves and running through them again and again. Redwillow was a quick learner and Birchfall was clearly hungry to prove that he was as good a Dark Forest warrior as he was a ThunderClan one. He’d picked up the rearing lunge she’d shown him on his first try and, though he was her father, not her kit, Ivypool had felt a fond rush of pride.
Dovewing yawned.
“You look tired.” Ivypool could see weariness in her sister’s blue eyes, and Dovewing’s pelt was unkempt, dusted with fragments of leaf. Had she been out of the camp?
“The forest noises kept waking me.”
Ivypool guessed it must be hard to sleep with ears that heard far beyond the walls of the den. “You could try stuffing them with moss.”
Dovewing blinked, confused. “What?”
“Your ears.” Ivypool frowned. Dovewing seemed like she was in another world.
Molepaw rolled over and struggled to sit up. “I wish I’d stuffed my ears with moss,” he mewed sleepily. “Then I wouldn’t be woken up by you two chattering like blackbirds.”
Cherrypaw stretched. “It’s dawn,” she pointed out. “Time to wake up.”
“But Rosepetal and Foxleap are practicing tree climbing with Spiderleg,” Molepaw reminded her. “Which means no training for us.”
Cherrypaw lifted her head. “Why can’t we train with them?”
“Spiderleg thinks we’re too small to jump off a branch.” Molepaw lashed his tail. “I bet I could jump down from the Ancient Oak and land safely.”
Ivypool cuffed his ear gently. “We can’t risk any injuries.”
“Prey is starting to go to ground,” the ThunderClan deputy declared. “We must hunt while we can. But we can’t forget battle training. The Clans are nervous. And nervous Clans are dangerous.”
“Is that why WindClan tried to attack us through the tunnels?” Sorreltail called.