Thunder And Shadow

Spikefur growled. “Now we’ll never know.” He turned his tail on Crowfrost and stalked across the clearing. Scorchfur followed, Birchpaw and Lionpaw at his heels. Rippletail and Mistcloud glanced nervously at each other before following the disgruntled cats. Tigerheart padded toward the shadows, his pelt rippling uneasily.

Tawny pelt blinked at Crowfrost. “You m ade the right decision.”

Dawnpelt nudged him toward his den. “It’s just a few ruffled pelts, that’s all. They’ll be sm ooth again by the m orning.”

A few ruffled pelts. Violetpaw watched her Clan m elt into the shadows, her heart aching.

Twigpaw was gone. She’d chosen to go. Sorrow clouded Violetpaw’s eyes. Why did I ever let myself believe that she truly loved me?

Violetpaw pressed dripping m oss to Kinkfur’s m outh, just as Twigpaw had taught her. The den felt stuffy, warm ed by the bright newleaf sun. Outside, sunshine sliced across the clearing.

After Twigpaw had left, Violetpaw hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. Instead she’d come to help Puddleshine. At least here the stench of sickness blocked out the lingering scent of Twigpaw.

Kinkfur wheezed, pushing the m oss away as a spasm of coughing gripped her. The old she-cat j erked weakly in her nest, helpless against the seizure. Fear sparked through Violetpaw’s pelt.

“Puddleshine!” She j erked her m uzzle toward the medicine cat. He was leaning over Snakekit, gently dabbing green pulp around her jaws.

He turned sharply as Violetpaw called. His gaze flicked to Kinkfur, still twitching in her nest.

The coughing gave way to a rattling wheeze. She seem ed no more than fur and bones, shaken by a cruel wind. “Fetch thyme!” Puddleshine ordered.

Violetpaw stared at him. “I don’t know what it looks like!”

“It has woody stem s and sm all leaves—” Puddleshine stopped as Kinkfur fell lim p.

Violetpaw stiffened with panic. “I’ll go and look.”

“There’s no need.” Puddleshine’s mew was desolate. He stared at the old she-cat, his eyes m isting.

“She’s dead?” Violetpaw felt cold. Kinkfur was ly ing still, as though she was sleeping.

“Perhaps the sickness has gone away and she’s just resting.” Kinkfur couldn’t be dead.

Gently Puddleshine touched Kinkfur’s flank with his paw. “She’s with StarClan now.”

“No!” Shock sparked through Violetpaw’s fur as she suddenly saw the stillness of death. She looked like prey. Overwhelm ed, Violetpaw bolted for the entrance. She raced across the clearing, ignoring the surprised stares of her Clanmates.

“Where are you going?” Dawnpelt’s mew rang across the clearing.

Violetpaw didn’t answer. She raced through the entrance tunnel and burst from the camp.

Gulping the pine-scented air outside, she tried to fight the waves of grief washing over her. Her Clanmates were dying. Twigpaw was gone. There was no one in the Clan she could talk to. Not really talk to. For a m om ent she wondered where Needletail was. Needletail would know what to say. She’d flick her tail carelessly and tell Violetpaw not to worry. She’d say that Kinkfur would be happier ly ing in the warm sunshine of StarClan’s hunting grounds than coughing in a stuffy nest.

She’d tell her that she didn’t need Twigpaw because she had her.

I should have stayed with her. Violetpaw had tried not to think of her friend since she’d rej oined ShadowClan. She’d tried not to worry how Needletail might be getting along with the rogues and had kept her thoughts focused on the present. She’d tried to put her Clanmates first. Now, with a stab of grief, Violetpaw realized that Needletail had never abandoned her. When she’d left, she’d taken Violetpaw with her. I abandoned her. Guilt pricked through Violetpaw’s pelt.

She headed away from camp.

“Where are you going?” Dawnpelt padded from the camp and called after her.

Violetpaw looked over her shoulder. “Kinkfur died,” she meowed bluntly. “I need to get som e fresh air.”

Dawnpelt stared at her, shock sparking in her gaze. “She’s dead?”

“Yes.” Violetpaw turned away and headed between the trees. She heard Dawnpelt’s fur brush the brambles as the cream -colored she-cat hurried back into camp.

Paws heavy, Violetpaw walked on. The forest floor was warm where the sun reached it and chilly where shadows lingered. Pushing all thoughts from her m ind, Violetpaw found herself wandering toward her old territory —the land held by the rogues. Do I want to see Needletail?

Violetpaw couldn’t decide. She wanted Needletail to com fort her, like she had when Violetpaw was a kit. But she knew that Needletail was unlikely to treat her kindly if she ever ran into her again.

As Violetpaw felt her chest sink in regret, she heard a fam iliar voice.

“Well, well.” Needletail slid out from behind a pine and blocked her path. “Look who we have here.”

Violetpaw’s heart leaped. “Needletail!” Her old friend’s fur looked glossy. Muscles rippled over her shoulders. Violetpaw broke into a purr.