Code Of The Clans

DO NOT HUNT OR TRESPASS ON ANOTHER CLAN’S TERRITORY.

We take it for granted now that each Clan lives in the territory best suited to provide food for its particular hunting skils. But come with me to the time before borders were fixed, when cats took food from other territories if their own ran short. You will see that this code was needed, because if anything is likely to cause trouble, it’s theft of precious fresh-kill.

Finders Keepers

Three seasons had passed since the leaders of the Clans decided to meet in peace each full moon, and the truce had held. Stonestar, the WindClan leader, stood on the Great

Rock and surveyed the cats filing into the moonlit hollow. Their pelts stood out sharply against the snow, apart from Whitestar of ThunderClan, who was only visible when he looked up and Stonestar caught a glimpse of his dark eyes.

Whitestar, Emberstar, Birchstar, and Brindlestar, the new leader of ShadowClan, joined him on the rock. The leaders nodded to one another before standing in a line to look down on the cats below.

As the oldest leader, Emberstar was usually the first to speak, but Brindlestar didn’t give him a chance. “I have a complaint against ThunderClan!” she declared.

Whitestar faced her, his tail twitching. “We aren’t the ones stealing prey!” he hissed. “You can’t complain because our patrols drive you out every time.”

“It’s not stealing!” Brindlestar snapped. “What are we meant to eat, if we can’t find prey in our own territory?”

“Each Clan lives in the place where it is best suited to hunting,” Birchstar pointed out.

“Yeah, since when did ShadowClan start hunting in undergrowth and through brambles?” challenged Vinetail, ThunderClan’s deputy.

“Since we started starving in our own territory,” growled Lakestorm, the ShadowClan deputy.

Stonestar stepped forward. “ShadowClan should keep to its own prey,” he meowed firmly. “No Clan has prey to spare, especially not during leaf-bare.”

“Then what are we supposed to eat?” yowled Lakestorm. His voice cut through the icy air, and for a moment the hollow fell silent. Then a creaking sound began…

Stonestar peered up, trying to see where the noise was coming from. In the clearing, the cats huddled together in their Clans, too scared to flee.

Crashhhhhh!

A huge branch ripped away from one of the giant oaks and plunged onto the cats, sending flurries of snowflakes into the air. Stonestar watched in horror as the cats vanished in a swirling cloud of snow and twigs.

“SkyClan! SkyClan! Is every cat all right?” Birchstar ran to the edge of the rock and peered down, calling to her Clanmates. Whitestar and Brindlestar joined her, yowling into the cloud.

“Wait!” Whitestar ordered. Pushing his way through the other leaders, he turned to face them. “One at a time, or no cat will hear you. Birchstar, you go first.” He stepped back, and only his trembling paws showed how terrified he was for the safety of his own Clan.

“SkyClan cats! Can you hear me?” Birchstar yowled.

There was a muffled sound, then a speckled gray head popped up at the edge of the hollow. It was Rainsplash, the deputy. “We’re all here, Birchstar!” he called.

Stonestar stepped forward. The ground seemed a long way down, a mess of churned snow divided by a huge black branch bristling with twigs. “WindClan? Are you there?”

Mudpuddle, the brown-and-white deputy, scrambled up from the far side of the clearing. “All safe, Stonestar!” he reported, and Stonestar let out his breath in relief.

Emberstar quickly established that the RiverClan cats had been too far back to be hit by the falling branch. That left ThunderClan and ShadowClan. The branch had toppled right into the center of the Gathering, directly onto the two quarreling Clans.

Brindlestar walked to the edge of the rock. “ShadowClan, are you all right?”

The leaders waited in silence. Heartbeats passed, broken only by the faint plop of snow sliding from the trees. Then, “We’re all okay, Brindlestar!” A bundle of twigs rattled together at one side of the branch, and Lakestorm pushed his way out. Once he was free, he turned to help his Clanmates out behind him.

Brindlestar narrowed her eyes, checking each member of her patrol. She nodded. “Lakestorm’s right,” she murmured.

“ShadowClan is safe.”

Now it was Whitestar’s turn. Stonestar held his breath again.

There was no way that branch could have fallen into the hollow without crushing several cats. It was too big, too heavy. It had carved too great a slice through the clearing…

“We’re fine, too!” Before Whitestar could speak, Vinetail’s voice rang out as he wriggled free from a heap of snow. The rest of the ThunderClan cats tumbled out around him, shaking cold, wet clumps from their pelts and out of their ears.

“How can this be?” Whitestar whispered. “That branch fell on top of ThunderClan and ShadowClan; there was no room between them!”

Stonestar looked once more at the massive chunk of tree, then at the two groups of cats standing on either side, unhurt and exclaiming at their good luck.

“It’s a sign from StarClan,” Stonestar meowed, loud enough for his fellow leaders to hear but not the cats below. “StarClan is telling us that even when Clans are close together, they are separate, far enough apart for a tree to fall without touching them.

Borders may be invisible and thin as a whisker, but they are strong as oak, and they cannot be crossed. Not for friendship, not for prey, not for anything.”

Whitestar was nodding. “It’s a sign,” he said.

Brindlestar was staring in disbelief at the cats of her Clan.

They were dazed and shocked but without injuries. Then she looked down at the fallen branch. “StarClan has spared my cats for a reason,” she mewed.

“Find food in your territory,” Stonestar urged. “Use the skills that only you and your Clanmates have—your cunning, stealth, ability to walk through the darkest nights. The prey is there, and you’re the only Clan that can find it.”

“You are right. StarClan must not wish us to take inferior food from inferior Clans.” Brindlestar glanced at Whitestar, who wisely did not respond.

“Then it’s decided,” Emberstar meowed. “Another rule has been added to the warrior code. We must not hunt or trespass on another Clan’s territory.”

“Agreed,” the other leaders mewed in unison. They dipped their heads to one another. “Until the next Gathering, may

StarClan walk your path.”

23

Hunting Fish!

Not all cats obey the code all the time.

For where there are young cats and a set of rules to break, there is always mischief brewing…

“Ouch! You’re stepping on my foot!”

“Sorry!” puffed Dappletail. “I thought it was a pebble.”

“Since when do pebbles have fur?” demanded White-eye, shaking her paw. She turned so that starlight glowed in her remaining eye; the other had been clawed out by a badger when she was an apprentice, blinding her.

Dappletail wriggled up beside her—on the side where White-eye could see. “Are we at the river?” she mewed.

White-eye shifted to make room under the ferns. “Yup.

Look!”

Ahead of them, the ground was covered with small gray stones, sloping down to the thick black water that flowed swiftly by, sparkling with reflected stars.

“It’s kind of spooky at night,” Dappletail whispered, shrinking back against White-eye’s sturdy shoulder.

White-eye gave her a nudge. “We’ll be fine,” she assured her.

There was no way she was going back to the camp now. This was the biggest adventure she’d ever had! In fact, it was probably the biggest adventure any ThunderClan cat had had. They didn’t need to take RiverClan’s prey—it was greenleaf, and the woods were thrumming with juicy birds and squirrels—but White-eye wanted to know what fish tasted like, and why RiverClan was so snooty about its prey being the best of all the Clans’.

Dappletail jumped onto a flattened rock at the edge of the river and peered into the water. “I don’t see any fish,” she whispered.

“Do you think they’ve gone to sleep?”

White-eye huffed impatiently as she squeezed onto the rock beside her. “Fish don’t sleep!”

“They must,” Dappletail argued. “Otherwise they’d be really tired.”

“Well, maybe some of them are awake.” White-eye wriggled forward until her front legs dangled over the water.

Dappletail eyed her dubiously. “Is that how RiverClan cats catch fish? You look like you’re about to fall in.”

“Look!” White-eye strained her neck out, her whiskers quivering with the effort. “There’s something over there!”

She tensed her hindquarters, and before Dappletail could say anything, she leaped off the rock with her front paws outstretched and plummeted into the water with an enormous splash.

Dappletail sprang back, blinking as drops flew into her eyes.

She shook her head and stared at the river. The current flowed as swiftly as ever, but now it was carrying White-eye, gasping and scrabbling to keep her head above the surface.

“White-eye!” Dappletail wailed. “Come back!”

“I’m… trying…” came the muffled reply. There was another splash and White-eye’s head bobbed under a wave as the water swept her around a rock.

Dappletail stood on the shore, her tail bristling with shock.

“Help!” she yowled.

White-eye reappeared farther downstream. “Don’t… tell anyone… we’re… here,” she spluttered. “Get… into… trouble…”

“But you’re drowning!” Dappletail shrieked. “Help!”

Somewhere in the forest an owl hooted, but there were no sounds of cats coming to help. Dappletail looked at the swift black river, took a deep breath, and ran into the waves. The water was so cold she couldn’t breathe. Waves slapped around her, cutting her off from either shore and filling her ears with a deafening hiss.

Swimming’s just like running, but in water, right?

She untangled her legs and tried to move them as if she were walking on grass, but as soon as she hauled herself upright in the water she sank and had to scrabble back to the surface, gasping for air. This was the worst idea White-eye had ever had!

“What in the name of StarClan is going on?”

An angry voice sounded above Dappletail’s head, and she floundered around to see who was speaking. A brown-and-white tom was standing on a rock on the RiverClan side of the river, his eyes huge as moons.

“Help!” Dappletail yowled, before a wave filled her mouth and made her cough.

Another cat appeared beside the first one. “Owlfur, it’s clearly not out for a nighttime swim. You’d better go fish it out before it drowns.”

The brown-and-white tom slid into the water and his small head began bobbing steadily toward Dappletail. She kept her mouth shut and flailed with her paws, trying to stay in the same place. She winced as the tom clamped his jaws tightly in the scruff of her neck, and she felt herself being dragged through the water toward the shore. Her paws scraped against stones and she staggered out with most of the river streaming from her fur.

“My Clanmate!” she coughed. She twitched her tail downriver.

“She’s still in there!”

“Mouse-brains!” hissed the second cat. He braced his thick-pelted gray shoulders and headed for the river. “Owlfur, you stay here and make sure this feather-head doesn’t try to follow me.” He broke into a run and disappeared into the river, his pace staying the same even when he started swimming.

“You’re from ThunderClan, aren’t you?” Owlfur mewed disapprovingly.

Dappletail nodded, her whiskers heavy with drops.

“Let me guess. You were trying to steal our fish.”

Dappletail’s head drooped even lower. “S-sorry,” she muttered.

The brown-and-white tom hissed, then raised his head.

“Looks like Hailstar found your Clanmate,” he meowed.

Hailstar? Oh, great. We’ve been rescued by the leader of RiverClan.

“Dappletail! Look!”

Noisy splashing behind her made Dappletail turn around.

White-eye was stumbling out of the water with Hailstar shoving her from behind. Her pelt was slicked to her sides and her ears looked huge against her wet head, but his eyes shone as she dropped a twitching silver fish onto the stones.

“I caught a fish!”

Hailstar rolled his eyes. “You squashed it against a rock,” he corrected. “And it wasn’t yours to catch in the first place.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re trespassing and stealing. What do you say about that?”

“Hey! Are those our missing ThunderClan warriors?”

There was a shout from across the river. On the far shore, Pinestar and his deputy, Sunfall, were standing at the edge of the water, their fur frosted by starlight.

“We caught some unusual prey tonight,” Hailstar called back.

“Why not come across and see if it suits your appetite better?”

The ThunderClan cats ran along the shore and jumped across the stepping-stones, clearly visible in the low greenleaf river.

Dappletail glanced sideways at White-eye as they waited for their Clan leader to arrive.

“I am never, ever listening to you again!” she hissed.

The four older cats stood in a line in front of Dappletail and White-eye and surveyed them.

“Just how many rules of the warrior code did you want to break tonight?” Pinestar began. “Trespassing, stealing prey, catching food for yourself…”

“I wanted to see what fish tasted like,” White-eye mumbled.

Pinestar leaned closer to her. “We are from ThunderClan,” he growled. “We. Don’t. Eat. Fish.”

Owlfur stepped forward. “Wait, I have an idea. Since these mouse-brains seem so determined to be RiverClan cats, why not let them eat their fresh-kill? After all, White-eye caught it.”

Dappletail looked up in surprise. Weren’t they going to be punished?

Pinestar’s eyes gleamed. “What a good idea, Owlfur. White-eye, Dappletail, eat up. Don’t waste a scrap, or that would be very insulting to your hosts.”

White-eye didn’t wait to be asked again. She opened her mouth wide and sank her jaws into the fish just behind its head. Feeling very uncomfortable with the other cats watching, Dappletail crouched by the tail of the fish and took a bite.

Yuck!

Both cats sprang back, their lips curling. Wet, cold, slimy, tasting of stones and weeds and mud…

Hailstar cocked his head on one side. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s disgusting!” White-eye spluttered.

Sunfall looked shocked. “You can’t say that when RiverClan is so generously letting you eat your catch.”

Dappletail forced herself to swallow and concentrated very hard on not being sick. “Please don’t make us eat any more,” she meowed.

Pinestar looked at them both. “The warrior code exists for a reason. ThunderClan cats don’t eat fish, don’t catch fish, don’t swim, don’t have anything to do with the river at all. RiverClan cats don’t eat squirrels, so they don’t live in the woods. ShadowClan cats don’t eat rabbits, so they don’t live on the moor.”

Hailstar spoke up. “I think nearly being drowned is enough of a lesson for now. Go back to your Clan and leave the fish to us.”

White-eye nodded hard. “No more fishing,” she promised.

“No more adventures ever,” Dappletail meowed. ThunderClan cats ate ThunderClan fresh-kill; as far as she cared, RiverClan cats could have all the fish in the world.

29

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