Moonrise

Chapter 8

“If a cat leaps at you, roll onto your back,” Cinderpelt instructed.

“Then you can attack his belly with your claws. Try it.”

Leafpaw waited as her mentor crouched in front of her and then leaped into the air. Rolling over as Cinderpelt had told her, she dug her hind paws into the medicine cat’s belly and flung her off to one side.

“Good,” Cinderpelt meowed. She scrambled to her paws, awkward because of her injured leg. “That’s enough for now.”

The two cats had been training all morning in the sandy hollow, and though thick, gray clouds covered the sky Leafpaw’s rumbling belly told her it must be close to sunhigh. She had enjoyed the session with her mentor. The exercise had been a good distraction from her worries about the Clan and the Twolegs, not to mention Squirrelpaw and the other cats who were traveling with her.

She followed Cinderpelt down into the ravine. Before they reached the entrance to the gorse tunnel, Leafpaw heard a patrol returning close behind them. Turning, she saw Firestar, Dustpelt, and Sorreltail. Firestar looked more worried than ever, while Dustpelt’s brown tabby fur was bristling and his tail lashed furiously from side to side.

Cinderpelt limped over to meet Firestar, while Leafpaw hurried to Sorreltail’s side. “What in StarClan’s name is going on?”

“WindClan,” Sorreltail mewed, with a glance at the older warriors. “They’ve been stealing prey from us.”

Leafpaw remembered the thin, desperate cats who had chased them out of their territory, and knew that she was not surprised at the news.

“We found scraps of rabbit fur and bones by the stream near Fourtrees,” Sorreltail went on. “They reeked of WindClan scent.”

“It’s because their rabbits have vanished,” Leafpaw meowed. She pushed aside a guilty memory of how she had taken fish from RiverClan.

“It’s still against the warrior code,” Sorreltail pointed out.

“Dustpelt was furious.”

“So I see,” meowed Leafpaw.

She followed her friend down the gorse tunnel to find Firestar and Dustpelt standing beside the fresh-kill pile. Her belly lurched when she saw how small it was.

“Look at it!” Dustpelt gestured with his tail. “How is that going to feed the Clan? You’ll have to do something about WindClan, Firestar.”

Firestar shook his head. “We all know that Tallstar wouldn’t allow his warriors to steal prey unless his Clan was in real trouble.”

“Tallstar might not know what’s going on. Besides, ThunderClan is in trouble too. It’s not as if we have prey to spare.”

“I know,” Firestar sighed.

“I’m worried about Ferncloud,” the brown warrior added.

“She’s already lost a lot of weight, and she still has three kits to feed.”

“If this goes on, I’ll have to start rationing,” Firestar decided. “But meanwhile, we will do something about WindClan, I promise.”

Whirling around, he bounded across the clearing and leaped to the top of the Highrock. As he yowled out the summons, the rest of the Clan began to appear at once. Leafpaw was shocked to see how lean they were; she had never really noticed before the gradual change from day to day as prey got harder to find.

But now they looked more like skinny WindClan cats than sturdy, forest-born ThunderClan warriors. Dustpelt was right that Ferncloud in particular looked gaunt and exhausted; her kits were thinner, too, and they trailed after their mother as if they had no energy left to play. Were all the Clans—apart from RiverClan—slowly going to starve?

Leafpaw listened anxiously as Firestar told the rest of the Clan what the patrol had discovered. Wails of indignation broke out at the news that WindClan cats had trespassed onto ThunderClan territory and stolen prey.

“WindClan needs to be taught a lesson!” Cloudtail called out. “I haven’t had the sniff of a rabbit for days.”

“We should attack now,” Mousefur put in, her brown fur bristling.

“No,” Firestar meowed firmly. “Things are bad enough without us looking for a battle.”

Mousefur didn’t argue, though she muttered something under her breath, and Cloudtail lashed his tail. Leafpaw saw Brightheart meow a few words to him, trying to calm him down.

“What are you going to do?” Speckletail called out from the entrance to the elders’ den. “Go and ask them nicely not to steal our food? Do you think they’ll take any notice?”

More voices were raised in protest, with more than one cat echoing Mousefur’s demand to attack.

“No,” Firestar repeated. “I’m going to talk to Tallstar. He’s a noble, trustworthy cat; maybe he doesn’t know that his warriors have been stealing prey.”

“And what good will talking do?” Cloudtail snorted.

“Blackstar didn’t listen when you went to talk to him.”

“If you ask me,” Speckletail rasped, “you’re crossing Clan boundaries far too often. The last cat to ignore borders like that was Tigerstar.”

Leafpaw winced at the old she-cat’s suggestion that their leader was anything like the murderous Tigerstar. She wasn’t the only cat to be shocked. Several cats turned on Speckletail, hissing fiercely, but when Firestar replied, his voice was calm.

“Tigerstar wanted to satisfy his greed for power. All I want is to make peace. And as for Blackstar,” he added to Cloudtail, “Tallstar has always been more reasonable.”

“That’s right.” Graystripe supported his leader from where he sat at the base of the Highrock. “Remember when Bluestar wanted to fight WindClan? Tallstar was ready to make peace then.”

“But there wasn’t a shortage of prey back then,” Thornclaw reminded him.

“Right.” Mousefur’s tail lashed again. “Some cats will do anything if their bellies are empty.”

Leafpaw listened in dismay as yowls broke out around her, agreeing with Mousefur. She spotted her mother, Sandstorm, exchanging an anxious glance with Graystripe.

Firestar signaled with his tail for silence. “That’s enough!

My mind’s made up. All the Clans are in trouble together now. This is no time to start fighting one another.”

“Be careful, Firestar,” Sorreltail warned him, as the yowls of protest died into discontented muttering. “You may go in peace, but the other clans might not see it that way.” She glanced at Leafpaw, reminding her of their of their narrow escape from WindClan only a few days ago.

Firestar nodded. “WindClan will have to respect a patrol that looks strong enough to fight back,” he meowed. “I’ll make it clear to Tallstar that there’ll be trouble if he can’t control his warriors and keep them on their own side of the border. But we won’t be looking for a fight. With StarClan’s help we can avoid that.”

Leafpaw’s mind filled with images of the scarred moorland she had seen when she visited WindClan territory, and the desperation of the warriors who had chased her. Every hair on her pelt shrank from the idea of attacking WindClan and making their plight even worse.

“This is a bad time for all of us,” she began hesitantly. “We should be trying to help one another. Why don’t we all share the fish in the river? There are still plenty of those.”

“That’s for RiverClan to say, not us,” Graystripe pointed out, while Ashfur added, “Fishing’s too difficult.”

“No, it’s not,” Leafpaw protested. “We can learn how.”

She noticed that some of the other cats were giving her suspicious looks, as if they were wondering what she knew about fishing. Embarrassed, she scuffled her forepaws on the ground. “It was just an idea,” she mumbled.

“But not one we can use,” Firestar mewed decisively.

Anxious not to draw any more attention to herself, Leafpaw bowed her head, and sat looking at her paws while Firestar chose the cats who would make up the patrol going to WindClan.

“Graystripe, of course,” he began. “Sandstorm, Dustpelt, Thornclaw. Ashfur. And you, Cinderpelt. Tallstar will listen to a medicine cat if he won’t listen to me.”

Leafpaw realized that he had not chosen any of the cats who had been arguing for an attack straight away, though he had included some formidable fighters. This patrol would not need to run!

She stayed where she was while the meeting broke up.

With her eyes still fixed on the ground, she was aware of Firestar leaping from the Highrock and padding over to her.

“Well, Leafpaw,” he began. When she lifted her head, she was relieved to see warm affection in her father’s eyes, and felt even more ashamed of herself. “What’s all this about fishing?”

Leafpaw knew she would have to tell the truth. “Mothwing taught me how,” she explained. “She said it was okay, because we’re both medicine cats…”

“You are medicine cat apprentices,” Firestar meowed. “And it sounds as if you both have a lot to learn. You know that it’s against the warrior code to take prey from another Clan.

Even medicine cats have to respect that.”

“I know.” Guilt swept over Leafpaw again, making her feel like a naughty kit. She just hoped that RiverClan had not found out what Mothwing had done, and punished her for her generosity. “I’m sorry.”

“I shall have to punish you, you realize that?” Firestar went on. His tail-tip touched her shoulder gently as he added, “I can’t have any cat saying I favor you because you’re my daughter.”

“Oh, come on, Firestar.” Cinderpelt had limped up to join them, and was regarding her Clan leader with amusement in her blue eyes. “I remember a couple of cats who took ThunderClan prey across the river to RiverClan, when the Twolegs poisoned the fish. Surely you haven’t forgotten?”

“No. And Graystripe and I were punished for it,” Firestar retorted. Then he sighed. “Leafpaw, I know it’s hard to see other cats hungry and do nothing about it. But the warrior code is what makes us what we are. If cats can break it when they feel like it, where does that leave us? Whatever is going to happen to the forest—whatever is happening now—we can’t forget everything we believe in.”

“I’m sorry, Firestar,” Leafpaw repeated. She managed to stand up straight and look her father in the eye.

“Let her come with the patrol to WindClan,” Cinderpelt meowed before Firestar could speak. “It’ll be good experience for her.”

Leafpaw looked hopefully at her Clan leader.

“Honestly, Cinderpelt.” Firestar sounded exasperated.

“There are cats who would say that’s a reward, not a punishment. Oh, very well,” he added. “We’re leaving right away. I’ll just go and get the others.”

He touched Leafpaw’s shoulder once more before padding away with his tail high.

“Thanks, Cinderpelt,” Leafpaw meowed. “I know I was stupid. It’s just that… well, when Mothwing said it, it sounded okay to take the fish.”

Cinderpelt snorted. “Like Firestar said, you’ve both got a lot to learn.”

“I don’t know if I ever will!” Leafpaw burst out. “There are warrior rules, and medicine cat rules, and it’s all so confusing!”

“It’s not just about rules,” Cinderpelt murmured sympathetically, touching her nose to Leafpaw’s muzzle. “Your sympathy for other Clans, and your willingness to see that sometimes rules have to be ignored, will make you a great medicine cat in the end.”

Leafpaw’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really. ‘Medicine cat’ means nothing on its own, without an understanding of what should be done—which isn’t always what you first think. Remember what I’ve told you about Yellowfang? She never followed the rules, but she was one of the best medicine cats the forest has ever seen.”

“I wish I’d known her,” Leafpaw murmured.

“So do I. But I can pass on to you what she taught me.

To truly be a medicine cat lies in a cat’s heart, and all its five senses. You must be braver than warriors, wiser than a Clan leader, humbler than the tiniest kit, more willing to learn than any apprentice…”

Leafpaw gazed up at her mentor. “I’m not sure I can be all that,” she whispered.

“Well, I am sure.” Cinderpelt’s voice was low and intense.

“For we do not achieve this by ourselves, but by the strength of StarClan within us.” Suddenly the intensity was gone and the humor back in Cinderpelt’s eyes. She swatted Leafpaw lightly with her tail. “Come on. Firestar will never forgive us if we aren’t ready for the patrol on top of everything else.”

Sunhigh was long gone and a brisk wind was breaking up the clouds by the time Firestar led his patrol toward Fourtrees. Before they were very far from the camp Leafpaw could hear the roar of Twoleg monsters as they forced their way even farther into ThunderClan territory. In contrast, the usual forest sounds—the calling of birds, the rustle of prey in the undergrowth—were silent. Even though leaf-fall had well and truly arrived, Leafpaw knew there should be much more prey than this. The small creatures that the cats depended on for their survival were gone, frightened away by Twolegs or even killed as the monsters tore up their forest homes.

As they drew closer to Fourtrees the roar of the monsters died away, and Leafpaw could make out the faint scrabblings of prey among the bushes, but it was still much less than usual. She swallowed nervously as she imagined a harsh and hungry leaf-bare.

A yowl from Thornclaw jerked her out of her thoughts.

“Look!”

There was a flash of movement in the thick undergrowth beside the stream. Two cats—a dark brown tom and a tabby—leaped across the stream and streaked up the slope toward Fourtrees. One of them had a small piece of prey, a vole or a mouse, in its jaws.

“WindClan cats!” Sandstorm meowed, her pale ginger fur bristling. “That was Mudclaw and Tornear, I’m sure of it.”

Dustpelt and Ashfur sprang after the fleeing warriors, but Firestar called them back sharply. “We mustn’t look as if we’re attacking WindClan,” he told them. “I’m coming in peace, not fury, to speak with Tallstar.”

“You mean you’re letting them go?” Ashfur asked disbelievingly. “With our fresh-kill in their mouths?”

“It’s more proof that they’re stealing prey,” Firestar pointed out. “Tallstar won’t be able to ignore what we have to tell him now.”

“But they’ll warn Tallstar,” Dustpelt protested. “WindClan could ambush us before we get anywhere near their camp.”

“No. Tallstar isn’t like that. If he fights us, he’ll do it in the open.”

The two warriors exchanged doubtful glances before falling in behind Firestar. Leafpaw could see that Dustpelt was still smoldering with anger, but he expressed it with no more than an irritable twitch of his tail-tip.

The patrol crossed the stream, the water still churned and muddy from the WindClan warriors’ paws, and climbed the slope to Fourtrees. Leafpaw’s heart started beating uncomfortably as Firestar led them around the top of the hollow.

Remembering her doomed visit with Sorreltail, she wondered whether they would be able to speak to Tallstar at all.

As they approached the border, the breeze carried a strong scent of cats toward them. Leafpaw looked out over the windblown grass to see a ragged group of WindClan warriors racing over the crest of the moorland. In the lead she recognized the Clan leader, Tallstar, by his black-and-white pelt and long tail. He must have spotted the ThunderClan patrol, for he slackened his pace and signaled with his tail. His warriors slowed to a walk and spread out to form a long line facing the ThunderClan cats.

“See?” Dustpelt hissed. “They’re ready for us.”

On an unspoken command, the WindClan cats stalked up to the border and halted a couple of tail-lengths from the ThunderClan patrol. They were even thinner than Leafpaw remembered, the sharp lines of their ribs plainly visible.

Hostility burned in their eyes, and it was clear that not one of them wanted the ThunderClan visitors to set paw on their territory.

“Well, Firestar?” Tallstar growled. “What do you want with us this time?”