by Erin Hunter
Lionpaw’s mew was muffled by his mouthful of feathers.
“I went through the dirtplace tunnel.” His tail pricked at the lie, but he had no choice.
“Looks like someone’s going to have a nice early breakfast,” Whitewing commented.
“Mmmm.” Lionpaw nodded, whisking past her into the camp.
Hollypaw was lying beside the halfrock with Jaypaw. She looked up as Lionpaw entered the camp. Flicking his tail at her, he dropped his catch on the pile.
“You must have been up early,” Jaypaw mewed as he clambered onto the smooth halfrock and began to wash.
“The birds make so much noise, I’m surprised you can sleep through them,” Lionpaw replied, thinking fast.
Hollypaw narrowed her eyes. “After the hunt Brackenfur took me on yesterday, I’d have slept through anything.”
Lionpaw wiped a paw over one ear. Inside, his stomach was a hard knot. He hated lying. He wasn’t doing any harm by playing with Heatherpaw. But he knew his Clanmates wouldn’t see it like that.
I’m loyal to my Clan, Lionpaw told himself . I shouldn’t have to prove it.
But still, the bitter taste of his lie stung in his throat.
Chapter 6
Hollypaw yawned and stretched in the den entrance. The early morning sun felt warm on her paws. She looked over her shoulder. Lionpaw was still asleep in his nest.
Cinderpaw was already at the fresh-kill pile.
“Anything there?” Hollypaw called to her friend.
“Only a mouse.” Cinderpaw pawed it uncertainly. “A bit stale, but not too bad.”
Hollypaw padded toward her. “Perhaps we should see if Daisy wants it for the kits first.”
“No, thank you!” Daisy was sunning herself outside the nursery while Ferncloud’s kits tumbled around her. “They can wait for the dawn patrol to return and have something warm and fresh.”
“I don’t mind eating a stale mouse!” Foxkit offered.
“No,” Daisy mewed, “you’ve got a cold. Only warm food for you.”
“But I’m hungry!”
“Greedy, more like!” Icekit teased. The fluffy white kit cuffed her brother around his ear. He turned on her at once and pounced. She squealed and pummeled him with her hind legs.
Daisy moved her tail out of the way as they rolled past her.
“It’ll be a relief when they move into the apprentices’ den,”
she mewed. Hollypaw knew that she didn’t mean it. Ferncloud would move back to the warriors’ den, and Daisy would be alone in the empty nursery. She’d always made it clear she wasn’t cut out to be a warrior but, without kits to nurse, what would she be? Hopefully the spring would bring a new litter.
“Hollypaw! Cinderpaw!” Leafpool was looking out from the elders’ den. “Come and clean out the bedding in here.”
“Okay!” Cinderpaw bounded over to her, abandoning the mouse.
“I’ll get fresh moss!” Hollypaw knew that Leafpool kept a fresh stock beside the medicine den. She raced to grab a wad of it, then carried it to the elders’ den.
The honeysuckle that trailed over the elder bush where Longtail and Mousefur slept was bright with new leaf. Fresh tendrils swayed in the light breeze. Buds were forming that would flower come greenleaf and fill the hollow with a wonderful smell. Hollypaw ducked inside and dropped the moss.
Cinderpaw was already busy scrabbling through the bedding, bundling out stale bits.
Leafpool looked up from where she was crouched at Longtail’s side. “Longtail has an infected tick bite.” The tangy aroma of herbs filled the den. “I’m putting a poultice on it, but I want the bedding freshened up so he doesn’t get another one.”
“Okay.” Hollypaw nodded.
Mousefur sat up stiffly. “Good to see newleaf again.”
Longtail winced as Leafpool washed more herbs into his wound. “The forest smells good,” he meowed. “I’ve been thinking about going out.”
Hollypaw blinked in surprise. Since he had lost his sight, Longtail rarely left camp.
“Only if I can come with you,” Mousefur croaked. “You’ll need someone to keep an eye out for foxes.”
“Foxes!” Hollypaw tucked her tail close to her.
Cinderpaw tossed a wad of moss toward the entrance.
“Foxes aren’t that bad.”
“Aren’t that bad?” Hollypaw gasped. “What about the ones that chased me? They almost had my tail!”
“You were only a kit,” Cinderpaw pointed out. “They wouldn’t seem so scary if you met them now.”
Hollypaw wasn’t convinced.
“Foxes are just a nuisance,” Cinderpaw went on. “It’s badgers you have to watch out for.” The gray tabby’s eyes grew wide. “They are terrifying.” The fur along her spine rippled. “I hope I never meet another one as long as I live.”
“Another badger?” Hollypaw sat up. “You’ve never even met one.”
Cinderpaw tipped her head to one side. Confusion clouded her gaze. “You’re right.” She reached out and tugged some stale moss from beside Mousefur. “I must have dreamed it.”
Cinderpaw could be so mouse-brained!
As Hollypaw began to reach for fresh moss, she noticed Leafpool staring at Cinderpaw. The medicine cat’s mouth was
open as though frozen mid-lick. What had surprised her so much? It wasn’t the first time Cinderpaw had been muddled.
Longtail started to fidget. “Have you finished, Leafpool?”
“No.” Leafpool bent her head quickly. “Hold still, I’m nearly done.”
Firestar’s call sounded from outside the den. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highledge.”
“A Clan meeting?” Mousefur narrowed her eyes. “I hope everything’s okay.” She got slowly to her paws. Hollypaw glanced at Cinderpaw, excitement fluttering in her chest.
Had something happened? She darted out of the den ahead of the others and saw Firestar leaping down the tumble of rocks from Highledge.
The fresh-kill pile was well stocked. “The dawn patrol’s back,” Hollypaw whispered to Cinderpaw as her friend caught up. “Perhaps they’ve brought news.”
Stormfur and Brook settled at the edge of the clearing.
Graystripe and Millie padded out from behind the warriors’
den. Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight sat down in the shadow of Highledge while Lionpaw padded after Ashfur and settled beside his mentor. Daisy stayed by the nursery, whisking Icekit and Foxkit back with her tail as they tried to see what was happening.
Once the Clan had settled, Firestar sat down in the center of the clearing. He gazed around, his eyes shining.
“Doesn’t look like anything bad,” Hollypaw murmured to Cinderpaw.
“There is something I’ve wanted to do for a while,” Firestar began. “And now that newleaf is here it seems like a good time for new beginnings.”
Hollypaw leaned forward excitedly.
“It is time Millie became a ThunderClan warrior!”
Hollypaw froze. Millie had been a kittypet when Graystripe had met her. He’d given her some warrior training and she’d helped him on the long journey back to his Clan. But did that make her a warrior? Hollypaw didn’t even know if Millie believed in StarClan.
Mews of approval rippled around the edge of the clearing.
“About time!” Whitewing called.
Birchfall kneaded the ground. “She has the heart of a warrior!”
Hollypaw stared at them in surprise. Surely it wasn’t that simple? The daylight Gathering had helped to smooth the ruffled fur of the other Clans, but making a kittypet a warrior? Wouldn’t that stir up hostility again? Millie was a good hunter and had proved her bravery and loyalty in battle, but to make her a ThunderClan warrior . . .
“Millie.” Firestar beckoned the striped gray tabby.
She stepped forward, chin high. Hollypaw couldn’t help admiring her. And yet she had never trained as an apprentice.
How could she possibly
have a warrior name? Hollypaw felt her chest tighten with anxiety.
“You have fought bravely in battle,” Firestar meowed. “You have made sure the Clan has been fed through a bitter leaf-bare. No cat here doubts your loyalty or your skill. You have
earned the warrior name I give you.” He paused for a moment. “From this day on you shall be known as—”
“Wait!”
Mews of surprise rippled among the Clan as Millie interrupted Firestar.
She gazed steadily around the cats, her blue eyes glowing.
“I’m privileged to be considered a ThunderClan warrior,” she meowed. “I could ask for no greater honor. And I am grateful to Graystripe for rescuing me from my life as a kittypet.”
She blinked warmly at her mate. “If I’d stayed my whole life as a Twoleg companion, it would have been only half a life.
But—”
Graystripe stepped forward. “Millie?” His eyes were clouded with anxiety. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”
“Never.” Millie padded toward him and brushed her muzzle against his. Then she turned back to Firestar. “You can rely on my loyalty until the day I join StarClan, and you must believe that I will live and die to protect ThunderClan. But I don’t want to change my name. I have always been Millie, and I see no shame in it.”
A shocked silence gripped the Clan. Ashfur flicked his tail.
Sandstorm narrowed her eyes, studying the former kittypet.
Brambleclaw’s whiskers twitched.
Graystripe lifted his chin. “Millie is right. It doesn’t matter what she’s called. It only matters how she acts, and I know that she will always put the Clan first.”
Hollypaw watched Firestar, wondering what he would do.
The ThunderClan leader shifted his paws uneasily, glancing
from Graystripe to Millie.
Suddenly, another mew sounded. “May I speak?”
Hollypaw spun around. Daisy was padding forward. The cream-colored queen slid between Spiderleg and Birchfall and stepped into the center of the clearing. Hollypaw pricked her ears. Daisy had never spoken at a Clan meeting before.
“I am glad Millie has chosen to keep her name,” the she-cat began. Her soft mew trembled a little. “I am no warrior, but I am a ThunderClan cat. I stay in the nursery rather than hunt and fight because that is what I do best. I care for our young as though each kit were my own. This is my gift to the Clan, but I do it in my own chosen name.”
“She is right!” Brook stepped forward. “My loyalty lies with ThunderClan, but I would never give up the name given to me by the Tribe.”
Stormfur padded forward and ran his tail along his mate’s flank. “Is there any cat here who would not trust Millie or Daisy or Brook to fight on their side?” He stared challengingly around the Clan.
“No!” Graystripe led the call and Brambleclaw, Cloudtail, Whitewing, and the others quickly took it up. Daisy’s kits, Berrypaw, Hazelpaw, and Mousepaw cheered loudest of all.
Hollypaw watched uneasily.
Suddenly, Thornclaw’s mew rose above the others. “Stop!
What would the other Clans say if they could see us now?”
Dustpelt nodded. “ShadowClan has already tried to take territory from us because we are no longer a pure forest-born Clan.”
Spiderleg narrowed his eyes. “Naming ceremonies are part of the warrior code. Can we ignore them and still keep the respect of the other Clans?”
Hollypaw swept her tail over the ground. Dustpelt and Spiderleg were right. Millie, Daisy, and Brook were important to the Clan, but unless they accepted all the customs of the Clan, how could they truly be part of it?
Firestar’s eyes flashed. “Silence!” he snapped. “Don’t forget you’re talking about your Clanmates! I invited Daisy, Brook, and Millie to join ThunderClan because they make us stronger.” He glared around the clearing. “You are happy to eat their fresh-kill and to have them fight beside you. Do you want me to throw them out because they have the wrong names? Do you want the other Clans to tell us what to do?”
“Of course not!” Graystripe meowed.
“Millie and Brook are warriors already,” Brambleclaw put in. “Names make no difference.”
That’s not true! Hollypaw dug her claws into the earth. They had not had proper naming ceremonies; the Clan was ignoring a ritual that had been followed for countless moons.
What would StarClan think? We must live by the warrior code! She stared at Thornclaw, willing him to speak, but he only dipped his head to their leader.
Firestar blinked at him and turned once more to Millie.
“You may keep your name. We have seen your courage in battle and your skill at hunting. You are ThunderClan now. May StarClan recognize you as a true warrior.”
“ThunderClan! ThunderClan!” Birchfall began the
chant and the others quickly joined in. Hollypaw watched in silence, noticing Dustpelt and Thornclaw exchange anxious glances.
“Don’t you feel like cheering?” Squirrelflight had weaved her way to Hollypaw’s side.
Hollypaw’s whiskers quivered. “What if StarClan doesn’t recognize her as a true warrior?”
“Do you really think StarClan is narrow-minded?”
Squirrelflight murmured.
“We have the warrior code for a reason and this goes against it.” Hollypaw’s fur rippled along her spine. “Brambleclaw should have spoken out. He knows how important it is to follow the code.”
Squirrelflight smoothed Hollypaw’s fur with her tail.
“Brambleclaw is Clan deputy. He must support Firestar.” Her green eyes glittered. “And don’t forget that Firestar was a kittypet once.”
“But he still took a warrior name!” Hollypaw mewed hotly.
“He followed the warrior path and trained as an apprentice.”
The cheers were dying away as the cats began to return to their duties. He never tried to change the warrior code!
“Hollypaw!”
Brackenfur’s mew jerked her from her thoughts. He was standing beside Cloudtail and Spiderleg. Their apprentices, Cinderpaw and Mousepaw, were pacing back and forth.
“It’s time we assessed your progress,” Brackenfur told her.
“I want you, Cinderpaw, and Mousepaw to go hunting. Catch as much prey as you can.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes glowed. “An assessment already?”
Hollypaw forgot her unease, excitement pulsing through her pelt. At last she would have a chance to show everything she had learned.
Brackenfur flicked his tail. “Don’t forget I’ll be watching, out of sight.”
“Good luck!” As Squirrelflight padded away, nerves fluttered in Hollypaw’s belly. What if she let Brackenfur down?
No! She wouldn’t let that happen.
Mousepaw and Cinderpaw hurried to join her.
“I don’t know who I want to impress more—Cloudtail or Brackenfur!” Cinderpaw glanced anxiously at the two warriors. Brackenfur was her father.
“I’m going to show Spiderleg that I really can catch a squirrel,” Mousepaw vowed.
“You may as well start now.” Cloudtail padded over. “You must each hunt alone. We’ll be keeping an eye on you, so do your best.”
“Of course we will!” Hollypaw promised.
Cinderpaw shot away, Mousepaw hurrying after her.
Hollypaw caught up with them as they raced through the thorn tunnel, each pushing to be first out. Hollypaw had never hunted alone before. Her whiskers twitched with anticipation.
“Where are you going to hunt?” she asked as they burst out of the camp.
“I’m hunting by the stream near the ShadowClan border,”
Cinderpaw announced. “There’s always prey there.”
“It’s a bit open, isn’t it?” Hollypaw mewed.
“I’m good at jumping,” Cinderpaw reminded her. “Even in the open, the prey won’t see me coming till it’s too late.”
“I think I’ll stick to the undergrowth,” H
ollypaw decided.
“I prefer stalking my prey.” She glanced at Mousepaw. “What about you?”
“I’m with you,” he announced. “Undergrowth is easier. But once I’ve caught a couple of mice, I’m going to get a squirrel.”
“Come on, then!” Cinderpaw charged up the slope away from the camp.
Hollypaw and Mousepaw sped after her, leaves fluttering in their wake. As they neared the stream, Cinderpaw veered away toward the bank. Hollypaw headed for a small dip where the ferns grew thickly, and Mousepaw bounded away in the other direction.
Hollypaw halted at the edge of the dip. Steadying her breath, she dropped into a hunting crouch and crept down the slope. She wound her way through the thick fern stems, careful not to set any of them rustling. Is Brackenfur watching me already? she wondered as she drew herself forward, one slow paw step at a time. Don’t think about that. Concentrate on the hunt.
She focused her senses on the foliage ahead, opening her mouth slightly to taste the breeze. Rabbit scent hung stale in the air, but the smell of mouse was fresh. Good! She halted and pricked her ears. The ferns were shivering up ahead. Narrowing her eyes she peered through the lush stalks and saw a small brown shape dart across over the leafy earth. A shrew!
It began rooting among the leaf litter.
She crept closer.
The shrew stiffened.
Mouse dung! Her tail had brushed against a leaf.
The shrew glanced around.
Don’t move! Hollypaw held her breath and pressed her tail to the ground.
The shrew began rummaging again.
Good! It’s busy looking for food.
Moving as slowly as a snail, Hollypaw drew herself forward. The shrew went on rummaging. One more paw step!
A twig cracked beneath her paw. The shrew darted away.
Hollypaw sprung and shot out her forepaws, catching the shrew in her claws before it had time to escape. One quick nip to the back of the neck and it was dead. Heart pounding, she carried it to the roots of a beech and buried it quickly before turning back for her next catch.
Before long she had caught another shrew and a mouse. As she safely buried the last of her catch beneath the beech, she saw golden fur flash among the brambles at the top of the slope.