Thunder And Shadow

“Come on,” she mewed loudly to Alderpaw. “We’re wasting our time here.” She shot a last pleading look at Kestrelflight, but the WindClan medicine cat had backed away, his gaze on his paws as though sham e washed his pelt.

Leafpool turned and headed for the camp entrance.

Alderpaw hurried after her, his pelt burning as he felt Onestar’s intense gaze on it. “What are we going to do?” he whispered desperately.

Chapter 19

Pale sunshine streamed through the gaps in the walls as Twigpaw paced the ShadowClan apprentices’ den. The scent of pinesap was m aking her queasy. She missed the musty sm ell of the ThunderClan camp.

Violetpaw watched her, anxiously. “Won’t you come outside?”

“I don’t want to.” Anxiety prickled in Twigpaw’s belly. This wasn’t her Clan. She didn’t know any of the cats. And she felt foolish for having come here and gotten caught. “I just want to stay inside.” She’d spent yesterday hiding in the apprentices’ den while Violetpaw went training with Dawnpelt. She had been relieved when Violetpaw had returned, although the ShadowClan cats had kept her well-fed. Fresh-kill had been left at the entrance of the den, as well as m oss soaked with water to quench her thirst. But Birchpaw and Lionpaw, who shared the den, had only come there to sleep and had hardly acknowledged her presence. She’d been relieved when they’d left their nest this m orning and headed into the clearing.

Violetpaw tipped her head impatiently. “You can’t stay here forever.”

Twigpaw stiffened. “I hope I won’t be here forever!”

Violetpaw ignored her. “Dawnpelt said I was excused from training today so I could spend time with y ou. She’s worried about y ou. She say s young cats need exercise. It’s newleaf, and the forest is filled with prey -scent.”

“All I can sm ell is pinesap,” Twigpaw growled. “Besides, Crowfrost would never let m e roam the forest. I could hear warriors outside the den all last night. He’s keeping m e under guard.”

Violetpaw blinked at her apologetically. “I know it’s not nice for you to be held here. But let’s make the best of it.”

Paw steps pattered outside. “Grassheart say s ThunderClan cats can clim b trees,” Whorlkit mewed.

“She told me that if kits m isbehave, they throw them in the lake.” There was a tremor in Flowerkit’s mew.

Whorlkit snorted. “Don’t be frog-brained! You’re too old to believe nursery tales. We’re going to be apprentices in less than a moon.”

“What if she sm ells funny?” Flowerkit fretted.

“Hold y our breath.” The entrance rustled as Whorlkit barged in. “We’ve come to see y ou.”

He blinked at Twigpaw. “Is that okay?”

“I guess.” Twigpaw stared uncertainly at the gray -and-white tom.

A pair of eyes blinked in the gap behind him. “Is she there?” Flowerkit squeaked.

“Of course she’s here!” Whorlkit rolled his eyes. “Where else would she be?”

A silver she-kit crept in. Her eyes widened as she saw Twigpaw. “You look like a norm al cat today!”

“What did you think I’d look like?” She glared at Flowerkit.

Flowerkit looked thoughtful. “Last night, in the moonlight, you looked like a fox.”

Violetpaw’s whiskers twitched. “Your head is full of fluff!”

“It’s not!” Flowerkit retorted. “Scorchfur and Ratscar say all ThunderClan cats are just foxes in cat pelts.”

Twigpaw flicked her tail irritably. “Scorchfur and Ratscar are a pair of old gossips.”

Flowerkit spluttered with am usem ent. “Can I tell them you said that?”

“No!” Alarm spiked through Twigpaw’s pelt.

Whorlkit was still staring at her. “Is it true that y ou’re special?”

Twigpaw exchanged glances with her sister. She hadn’t thought about being special for ages.

She’d been too busy try ing to be the best Clan cat she could be.

When Twigpaw didn’t answer, Violetpaw answered for her. “Only StarClan knows if we’re special or not, and they’re not telling.” She trotted to the den entrance and peeked out. “What are y ou doing here, any way?”

“We’re bored,” Whorlkit complained.

“Grassheart spends all her time with Snakekit,” Flowerkit mewed sadly.

“She’s sick,” Whorlkit told Twigpaw.

Flowerkit shifted her paws. “I hope she gets better in time for our nam ing cerem ony,” she whim pered.

Twigpaw felt a sudden wave of sy m pathy for the two kits. “Would you like us to play with y ou?” she suggested. “We could teach you som e hunting m oves.”

Whorlkit’s eyes brightened. “That’d be great.”

Twigpaw crouched, starting to show him a stalking position, but Whorlkit blinked at her.

“There’s not enough space here. We’ll have to go outside,” he mewed.

“Outside?” Twigpaw stared at him, her heart lurching.

“Good idea!” Violetpaw nudged her toward the entrance. “Come on, Twigpaw. Let’s go outside.”

Reluctantly, Twigpaw let Violetpaw nose her out of the den. Flowerkit and Whorlkit pushed past them and raced into the clearing.

Twigpaw hesitated at the edge. Early m orning light broke through the thick canopy, splashing puddles of sunshine over the camp.