“Leafstar, I’m so sorry!” Billystorm wailed. “I should never have let you get into danger like that. I wasn’t thinking.”
The two cats had crossed the border of SkyClan territory and were heading across the open grassy stretch toward the edge of the gorge. Leafstar paused, thanking StarClan for the clean air and yielding earth of her home.
“It wasn’t your fault, Billystorm,” she meowed.
The ginger-and-white tom refused to be reassured. “It was my fault,” he insisted. “I should have been more careful. But I promise you, the Twolegplace isn’t always as dangerous as that.”
“I’m sure it’s not,” Leafstar responded as they went on. “It’s just that I’m not used to it.” Inwardly her heart was still pounding, and she didn’t ever want to go back to the Twolegplace. She watched Billystorm moving confidently through the long grass at the top of the cliff, his ears pricked and his nostrils flared.
He’s a warrior! How can he stand living somewhere like that?
“Don’t you miss being outside, under all this sky, with the wind and the scent of trees in your fur?” she blurted out.
Billystorm turned to face her, a puzzled look in his eyes. For a couple of heartbeats he didn’t reply. “Yes,” he mewed at last, “but I get to feel it every day when I come here.” He blinked. “It’s not a hardship for me to be in my Twolegs’ nest. I love my housefolk, and they love me.”
Leafstar still found it impossible to understand. How could any cat want to live in that world of harsh scents, loud noises, and hard surfaces underpaw? She couldn’t imagine what Billystorm’s housefolk offered that tempted him back every night.
When they reached the gorge, Sharpclaw was just returning at the head of a hunting patrol, with Cora, Shorty, Ebonyclaw, and Frecklepaw.
“Where’s Snookpaw?” he asked, dropping a squirrel onto the fresh-kill pile. “I thought you were going to rescue him.”
“He doesn’t need rescuing,” Billystorm replied. “He’s been ill, and his housefolk are keeping him inside until he’s better.”
“What do Twolegs know?” Sharpclaw gave a scornful sniff. “Snookpaw would be better off here in the fresh air, with Echosong to give him the herbs he needs.”
Leafstar agreed with him, but she saw Billystorm start to bristle at the deputy’s contemptuous tone, and thought it wasn’t a good idea to say so.
“Has any cat checked the elders’ bedding?” she meowed, to distract the two toms before a quarrel developed. “I don’t want Lichenfur complaining again.”
“Good thought,” Sharpclaw mewed with a brisk nod. “Frecklepaw, will you get onto that?”
Frecklepaw blinked, and it was Ebonyclaw who replied, “All by herself?” Her tone was sharp. “Mintpaw and Sagepaw are out on patrol.”
“I don’t mind—” Frecklepaw began, only to be interrupted by Cora, who padded up from the fresh-kill pile.
“We’ll help, won’t we, Shorty? We said we’d do apprentice tasks.”
The brown tom nodded. “We’re happy to. Especially when Snookpaw isn’t here. It’s a shame his Twolegs won’t let him out.”
“I hope he’ll be okay,” Cora added.
“I’m sure he will. He’ll be back soon,” Leafstar assured them.
Mollified, Ebonyclaw stepped back, and Frecklepaw went off happily with the two warriors toward the elders’ den. Leafstar watched them go, impressed by how willingly Cora and Shorty had offered their help, and their concern for Snookpaw.
They’re really starting to fit into the Clan.
“Leafstar! Leafstar, hurry!”
Startled by Cherrytail’s voice raised in an excited yowl, Leafstar turned to see the young tortoiseshell warrior bounding down the trail.
“Come quick,” she puffed as she leaped down the last couple of tail-lengths to land in front of Leafstar. “There’s something you have to see.” Without waiting for a response, she whipped around and bounded back up the trail.
Leafstar exchanged a baffled glance with Sharpclaw, then followed, catching up to Cherrytail at the top of the cliff. “What’s all this about?”
“I was on a border patrol with Sparrowpelt, Petalnose, and Sagepaw,” Cherrytail explained breathlessly, leading Leafstar into the woods. “We picked up that loner’s scent again, beside the rubbish heap. This time we followed it over the border—”
“You did what?” Leafstar interrupted. “Without telling me or Sharpclaw? You know you shouldn’t do that.”
“Sorry,” Cherrytail meowed, not sounding repentant in the least. “We didn’t go far. And we found him, though he doesn’t know it yet!”
Leafstar felt even more puzzled as she followed the young cat through the woodland and past the clearing with the heap of Twoleg waste. She smelled fresh scent markers as they crossed the border; a few fox-lengths farther on Cherrytail dropped to a crouch and crept forward through a belt of thick undergrowth.
Petalnose, Sagepaw, and Sparrowpelt were waiting in the shelter of a bramble thicket.
“He’s still here!” Sparrowpelt whispered excitedly, waving his tail toward a nearby clump of fern.
Peering through the fronds, Leafstar spotted a skinny, cream-colored tom as he leaped into a beech tree, easily gaining the lowest branch. As she watched he climbed higher, jumping from branch to branch and crossing from one tree to the next, where he leaped down to the ground again. As far as she could see, he wasn’t stalking anything. He’s just having fun!
“He’s like us!” Cherrytail hissed, pressing up to Leafstar’s side. “He must be descended from Old SkyClan.”
Leafstar could see what Cherrytail meant. The loner had powerful hind legs for jumping and climbing, and now he was walking comfortably on a stretch of pebbles underneath the trees as if his pads were naturally tough enough to cope with the rough surface.
“Let’s go and talk to him,” Sparrowpelt urged.
“Wait a moment.” Leafstar raised her tail. “Look, he’s just spotted a bird.”
The cream-colored tom had focused his gaze on a thrush perched on a branch of the beech tree he had climbed at first. He clawed his way up the trunk of the tree next to it, keeping to the side away from the bird. Leafstar watched as he crept out onto a branch some way above the thrush and slid cautiously back into the beech tree. She remembered her hunt with Cora, when she had executed almost the identical move.
“He’s got it!” Sagepaw whispered, his eyes gleaming as the loner dropped down and landed with perfect balance onto the narrow branch where the thrush was perching. With one swipe of his paw the tom sank his claws into the bird’s shoulder as it tried to fly away, and killed it with a bite to the back of its neck.
“Very neat catch!” Sparrowpelt declared.
As the cream-colored loner climbed down the tree with his prey clamped in his jaws, Leafstar led the way out from the clump of ferns, with the patrol behind her. As soon as he spotted them, the loner spun around, ready to flee.
“No, wait!” Leafstar mewed. “We’re not trying to steal your prey. We just want to talk to you. I’m—”
The tom interrupted her before she could introduce herself or the others. “I’ve seen you before,” he told her, setting down his fresh-kill. “You’re those cats who live in the gorge.”
“You know about us?” Sparrowpelt asked curiously.
“Not much. I know that you hunt together.”
Sparrowpelt let out a puff of indignation. “It’s a bit more than that!”
Leafstar touched Sparrowpelt’s cheek gently with her tail to silence him. “I am Leafstar, leader of SkyClan,” she announced, dipping her head. “Many seasons ago, other cats lived in the gorge. They were the original SkyClan, and some of these cats are descended from that ancient Clan.”
The loner’s whiskers twitched; Leafstar could see that he didn’t understand what this had to do with him.
“Let me show him!” Cherrytail volunteered eagerly.
Leafstar nodded assent. Instantly Cherrytail swarmed up the beech tree, balanced along the branches until she crossed into the tree beside it, and dropped neatly onto a lower branch, just as the loner had done. “See?” she called, curling her tail up.
The cream-colored tom didn’t look impressed. “She’s just copying me.”
“I am not!” Cherrytail retorted, her fur fluffing up. “I’ve always been able to do that. Now I teach apprentices to do it, too.”
The loner shrugged. “Okay, but I don’t know why you’re telling me.”
Is he mouse-brained or what? Leafstar wondered. Can’t he see that he must be descended from Ancient SkyClan, too? “Would you like to visit the gorge and find out more about us?” she offered.
The tom stared at her. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you might want to join us!” Sagepaw blurted out, bouncing on all four paws with excitement.
Leafstar bit back a rebuke. I was trying to take it slowly, and now he’ll think we’re trying to force him into something.
The loner was gazing at Sagepaw as if he thought the apprentice had gone mad. “No, thanks, I can hunt for myself,” he replied.
“But it’s really great in the gorge,” Cherrytail insisted, jumping down to join the others. “We all look out for one another—”
“And we meet on the Skyrock to talk to StarClan,” Sparrowpelt added.
Leafstar winced. Now he’ll think we’ve got bees in our brain!
“Do come,” Petalnose persuaded. “You’ll learn all sorts of stuff, and meet new friends.”
The loner took a step back; Leafstar realized that the others were overwhelming him. “That’s enough,” she told the patrol. “He doesn’t have to come if he doesn’t want to. Take care,” she added to the tom.
“And stay out of our territory, too!” Sparrowpelt chipped in. “Don’t try any of your fancy hunting skills on the other side of those border marks!”
The cream-colored loner snatched up his prey and raced off into the trees without looking back.
“I wish he’d stayed,” Sagepaw murmured, his whiskers drooping with disappointment.
“Yes, he’s already as good as a trained warrior,” Cherrytail agreed, with a lash of her tail. “And he has no idea what his hunting skills mean!”
“I wish I was descended from SkyClan,” Petalnose murmured.
“You might be,” Cherrytail meowed loyally.
“Well, I can’t climb trees like you can.”
“I don’t care.” Sagepaw affectionately nuzzled his mother’s shoulder fur. “You’re perfect just as you are!”
The sun was going down; the trees cast long, black shadows and a chilly breeze whispered over the grass. It was time to return to the gorge. Leafstar collected her patrol with a sweep of her tail; as they headed back through the trees, Sparrowpelt came to pad beside her.
“If I see the loner again, I’ll have another go at trying to persuade him,” he promised.
“Don’t try too hard,” Leafstar warned him, brushing his shoulder with her tail-tip. “And don’t be too tough about chasing him off. SkyClan is open to those who want to join, but there’s room in the woods for loners, too, as long as they respect our borders.”
We don’t need to force any cat to swell the ranks of SkyClan. Let’s wait and see what happens.