TWILIGHT. Эрин Хантер
fur.
Squirrelflight let out a mrrow of amusement. Her gaze drifted past them to the tunnel through the thorn barrier at the entrance to the camp. She felt the muscles in her shoulders tense. It looked like the dawn patrol had just returned: Brambleclaw was padding out of the tunnel, followed by Sandstorm and Rainwhisker.
“What’s the matter?” Leafpool asked.
Squirrelflight suppressed a sigh. She and her sister were much closer than most littermates, and each one was always aware of what the other was feeling. “It’s Brambleclaw,” she mewed reluctantly. “I can’t believe he’s still friends with Hawkfrost, after the way he supported Mudclaw.”
“Many cats supported Mudclaw,” Leafpool pointed out. “They did it because they truly believed Onewhisker wasn’t the right cat to lead WindClan. After the tree fell, Hawkfrost admitted he was wrong, and that Mudclaw had tricked him into helping. Onewhisker has already forgiven him, and all the other cats who fought against him.”
Squirrelflight lashed her tail. “Hawkfrost lied! He was part of Mudclaw’s plot all along. I heard what Mudclaw said before he died—Hawkfrost was trying to become powerful enough to take over RiverClan.”
Leafpool’s troubled gaze seemed to pierce Squirrelflight’s fur. “You have no proof of that, Squirrelflight. Why should we believe Mudclaw over Hawkfrost? Are you sure you’re not judging Hawkfrost because of who his father was?”
Squirrelflight opened her jaws for a swift retort, but there was nothing she could say.
“Remember, Tigerstar was Brambleclaw’s father too,” Leafpool went on. “He may have been a murderous traitor, but that doesn’t mean his sons have to follow his pawsteps. I don’t trust Hawkfrost any more than you do, but we can’t assume he’s as evil as his father without proof. And even if Hawkfrost is dangerous, it doesn’t mean that Brambleclaw has to be like him—or like Tigerstar.”
Squirrelflight twitched her tail uneasily. “I guess you’re right.” The three tabby toms were tangled together like the tendrils in a bramble thicket, and she wondered if either of Tigerstar’s sons could ever be free of their father’s treacherous legacy. “It’s just—Brambleclaw won’t listen to a word I say! He cares about Hawkfrost far more than he cares about me. I don’t understand why he would take Hawkfrost’s word over mine.”
“Hawkfrost is his brother,” Leafpool reminded her. Her amber gaze was warm and sympathetic. “Don’t you think you should judge Brambleclaw by what he does now, instead of what his father did—or what you’re afraid he might do in the future?”
“Do you think I’m being unfair?” Squirrelflight asked. On the journey to the sun-drown-place, where StarClan sent them to learn about the danger threatening all the Clans, she had trusted Brambleclaw with her life. Since she had witnessed his growing friendship with his half-brother, Hawkfrost, she had felt her trust melt away like dew.
“I think you’re upsetting yourself for no reason,” Leafpool replied.
“I’m not upset.” Squirrelflight couldn’t bear to admit, even to her sister, the ache inside her when she thought of what she had lost. “I’m worried about the Clan, that’s all. If Brambleclaw wants to go off with Hawkfrost, it’s none of my concern,” she growled.
Leafpool rested the tip of her tail on her sister’s shoulder. “Don’t pretend that you don’t care,” she meowed. “Especially not to me.” Her voice was light, but her eyes were still serious.
“Hi, Squirrelflight!” Ashfur joined them before Squirrelflight could reply. The grey tomcat gestured to her with his tail. “Come sit by me.”
Squirrelflight padded to his side, noticing that his dark blue eyes gleamed as she joined him. Leafpool followed and gave her ear a quick lick. “Try not to worry,” she murmured. “Everything will be all right.” She gave Ashfur a friendly nod before padding over to sit with Cinderpelt beneath the Highledge.
Out of the corner of her eye, Squirrelflight saw Brambleclaw take a few steps towards her. The uncertain look in his eyes darkened when she settled down next to Ashfur, and he veered abruptly away to sit beside Brackenfur and Sorreltail. Squirrelflight’s fur tingled; she couldn’t tell if it was from relief or disappointment. As Firestar began to speak, she stared straight ahead, feeling Brambleclaw’s amber gaze burning into her fur.
“Cats of ThunderClan, three sunrises have passed since the battle with Mudclaw,” he meowed. “Two dead warriors still lie outside our camp. Now that we have rested, they must be returned to ShadowClan.”
A shiver passed through Squirrelflight’s pelt. She had discovered the stone hollow by falling into it when she and four other cats had first explored the forest; it was pure luck that the part of the cliff where she had slipped over had been too low for the fall to hurt her. But during the battle, two fleeing ShadowClan cats had hurtled over the precipice at its highest point and broken their necks in the clearing below.
“Do you think ShadowClan will want them?” Cloudtail meowed. “They were helping that traitor, Mudclaw, after all.”
“It’s not for us to decide another Clan’s loyalty to its warriors,” Firestar warned. “Mudclaw was no ordinary traitor. Even cats from other Clans believed he was the true leader of WindClan.”
Cloudtail twitched the tip of his tail, clearly dissatisfied, though Squirrelflight saw Brambleclaw nod as if he were thinking of Hawkfrost.
“The dead cats were ShadowClan’s warriors,” Firestar went on, “and their own Clanmates will want to honour them on their journey to StarClan. A patrol must take the bodies to the ShadowClan border.”
“I’ll go,” Thornclaw offered.
“Thank you.” Firestar dipped his head. “Brackenfur, will you go as well, and …”
He hesitated, his gaze travelling thoughtfully over his senior warriors. Squirrelflight realised this mission could be dangerous. Though only a few ShadowClan cats had been involved in the battle, their leader, Blackstar, might blame ThunderClan for the deaths of his warriors and use it as an excuse to attack.
“Dustpelt and Cloudtail,” Firestar decided. “Take the bodies to the border by the dead tree, then find a ShadowClan patrol and tell them what happened. But don’t look for trouble.” His gaze rested on Cloudtail for a moment, as if he were afraid the headstrong white warrior might say the wrong thing. “If ShadowClan seems hostile, get out of there fast.”
Thornclaw rose to his paws and beckoned the rest of the patrol with a sweep of his tail. Together they headed for the thorn tunnel. The bodies of the ShadowClan warriors lay just outside, hidden in a dense patch of brambles where they had been protected from foxes and other carrion eaters.
Firestar waited until the branches had stopped rustling behind the patrol before going on. “Last night Onewhisker should have travelled to the Moonpool to receive his nine lives and his name. But his leadership won’t be secure unless he is accepted by every one of his Clanmates. I’m going to lead a patrol to WindClan to check.”
“Surely that’s WindClan’s problem!” Mousefur protested. “ThunderClan warriors have already had their fur ripped off once helping Onewhisker. Haven’t we done enough?”
Squirrelflight, though she felt a twinge in her wounded side, couldn’t agree. “But if we risked our lives for Onewhisker,” she argued, “why not make certain it was worth the effort?”
Mousefur shot a glare at her, but Firestar waved his tail to stop the quarrel before it went any further.
Cinderpelt rose to her paws. “Whoever leads this patrol, it won’t be you, Firestar. You wrenched your shoulder in the battle, and you need to stay in the camp until it’s healed.”
Firestar’s neck fur bristled; then he relaxed and dipped his head to the medicine cat. “Very well, Cinderpelt.”
“I’ll lead the patrol.”