Squirrelflight's Hope

by Erin Hunter

  “They wouldn’t have to if they let us go.” Leafstar sat on one of the piles and curled down stiffly into the moss. “I don’t know why you’re treating them like friends.”

  “Why make this any more uncomfortable than it is?” Squirrelflight mewed irritably. “Besides, I saw a gap beside the dogwood that looks like it might lead to a track through the brush. I doubt we’ll get past Snow tonight, but if we play along, the whole group might be less watchful and we’ll be able to slip away tomorrow.”

  “‘Play along,’” Leafstar grunted. “I thought we were warriors.” She turned her back on Squirrelflight and tucked her nose into the bracken, grumbling. “Held hostage by a bunch of rogues.”

  Squirrelflight settled onto the bracken beside her. She sympathized with the SkyClan leader. It was humiliating to be kept prisoner here, but conflict could be dangerous, not just for them. What if Moonlight’s unborn kits were hurt in the fight? She rested her muzzle on her paws and closed her eyes. Tired after the long trek into new territory, she pushed worries from her mind and let herself sink into sleep.

  A screech woke her. It split the air and she jerked her head up. In the darkness, it took a moment to remember where she was. Another shriek sounded. With a sickening jolt, Squirrelflight realized that Leafstar wasn’t beside her. She scrambled from her nest and darted outside.

  Snow had pinned Leafstar to the grass. Her pelt bushed, the white she-cat snarled at the SkyClan leader and pressed her shoulders harder against the earth. Leafstar struggled beneath her, hind paws churning. But Snow had twisted out of reach. The white cat glanced up as Squirrelflight skidded to a halt behind them. “I don’t like to start fights any more than Moonlight,” she hissed. “But I’m more than willing to finish them.” She let go of Leafstar and backed away, her ears flat.

  Flurry and Sparrow had hurried from their den. Stone and Grass watched from across the clearing.

  Moonlight padded toward them. “What’s going on here?”

  “She tried to escape,” Snow hissed.

  Leafstar pushed herself to her paws and shook out her pelt. Rage shone in her eyes.

  Squirrelflight hurried forward. “She was probably just going to make dirt,” she mewed quickly.

  “No, I wasn’t,” Leafstar growled.

  “Get inside,” Squirrelflight hissed. Did she want more trouble? She smelled blood and saw that Leafstar was wounded. “You’re hurt!”

  Leafstar snorted and turned toward the den. Squirrelflight’s chest tightened as she watched her limp inside. Snow was glaring at her, eyes glittering. Stone and Grass glanced nervously at each other.

  Flurry stepped forward. “We can guard if you like,” she told Snow.

  Sparrow pressed beside her. “You can get some sleep.”

  Snow narrowed her eyes. “I’ll finish what I started,” she mewed ominously.

  Moonlight flicked her tail. “Make sure your friend stays in her den,” she told Squirrelflight. “I don’t want any more disturbances tonight.” She turned back to her own den.

  Squirrelflight followed Leafstar inside to find her lapping her hind paw. “Let me look at your wound.” Squirrelflight nosed her muzzle out of the way and inspected the ragged fur. Blood oozed from a deep scratch on her leg. Her heart sank. It would be harder to escape now that Leafstar was injured. “Make sure it’s clean,” Squirrelflight told her.

  “What do you think I was doing?” Leafstar began licking it again.

  Squirrelflight looked around the den, relieved to see cobwebs crowding between the branches above her head. She reached up and grabbed a pawful. “Dress it with these when you’ve finished cleaning it.”

  “Thanks.” Leafstar took the cobwebs from her.

  “Tomorrow we’ll see if we can get herbs to treat it.” Anxiety fluttered in Squirrelflight’s belly. Why hadn’t Leafstar waited, as they’d planned? “Were you planning to leave without me?”

  “I was trying to see if there was an easy way out of the camp,” Leafstar told her. “If I’d found one, I would have come back for you.”

  “Okay.” Squirrelflight believed her. Leafstar wouldn’t abandon another warrior. She sat down. Slipping away was going to be harder than she’d thought. Were they going to have to fight their way out of here? She forced her fur to remain flat. Fighting these cats would be dangerous. The Sisters seemed peaceful, but they were clearly willing to be aggressive if they needed to. “Next time you come up with an escape plan, tell me first.”

  “I don’t know if there will be a next time.” Leafstar began wrapping cobweb around her paw. “I think we’ll have to wait for our Clanmates to rescue us.”

  Squirrelflight met her gaze darkly. She didn’t want ThunderClan cats to get hurt because she’d made the mistake of coming here. Guilt wormed in her belly. She should never have gone behind Bramblestar’s back. “They might not watch us so closely tomorrow,” she mewed hopefully. “We might get away.”

  Leafstar eyed her doubtfully. “These cats won’t let us go easily.”

  Squirrelflight shifted her paws anxiously. Leafstar was right. Escaping was going to be hard. And even if they managed, she wondered what kind of reception would await her in the ThunderClan camp.

  CHAPTER 5

  Squirrelflight sat down and curled her tail over her paws. She yawned, sleepy after eating the fat vole Sparrow had brought her at sunhigh. Across the clearing Tempest, Stone, and Grass were digging earth from beneath a low gorse bush. Its thick branches spilled onto the grassy clearing, and the three cats had opened a gap in the front and were taking turns hauling dirt from around the central stem. Squirrelflight nodded to Leafstar. “It looks like they’re building a new den.”

  “If Moonlight let us go, they wouldn’t need another den.” Leafstar lay outside the juniper bush where they’d slept for the past two nights. The wound on her leg was still raw. The Sisters had treated it with herbs and there was no sign of infection, but they had no hope of slipping away from the camp now. The Sisters watched them day and night, and even if they could escape unnoticed, there would be no way Leafstar could outrun a patrol if they were followed.

  Besides, Squirrelflight had found she was content here. The Sisters had treated them well, sharing prey and accepting them as though they were new members of the group. Even Snow, who was still watchful, had begun to warm to them. Last night she’d brought poppy seeds to the den in case Leafstar’s wound kept her awake. Leafstar too seemed to be growing used to living in the valley camp. She’d stopped complaining about the crisp scent of the hills and the fact that fresh-kill here tasted more of sweet herbs than the dank flavors of the forest.

  Squirrelflight wondered if ThunderClan or SkyClan had sent search patrols yet. The thought made her belly tighten. She felt sure by now that Bramblestar would be angry and she’d have to defend her reasons for coming here. And she felt guilty that the Sisters might face a patrol of hostile warriors because of her.

  Flurry pushed her way through the ferns that masked the camp entrance. She was carrying herbs in her mouth. Squirrelflight tasted the air and smelled marigold leaves. The ginger-and-white she-cat crossed the clearing and stopped beside Leafstar. She dropped the herbs beside the SkyClan leader and shook out her pelt. “How does your leg feel?” she asked Leafstar.

  “It’s sore, but it’s feeling better.” Leafstar moved her leg closer as Flurry leaned down to look at it.

  Squirrelflight had been impressed by how many of the Sisters were skilled in using herbs. Sparrow, Flurry, Sunrise, and Hawk had all tended to Leafstar’s wound in turn. “Do you all know how to treat wounds?” She watched Flurry strip the marigold leaves from the stem.

  “Of course.” Flurry kept her eyes on her work.

  “The Clans have only a few medicine cats,” Squirrelflight told her.

  “What if they get sick?” Flurry blinked at her. “Who looks after them?”

  Leafstar stretched her muzzle forward to sniff the marigold. “They look after one another. And they have apprentices,�
�� she mewed.

  “I guess we’re all apprentices here,” Flurry explained. “The mothers teach their kits, and the sisters learn from one another.” She began to chew the leaves into a poultice.

  Squirrelflight was beginning to get used to the strange way the Sisters addressed one another. The younger cats often referred to the older cats as Mother, whether a she-cat was their mother or not, and cats of a similar age called one another Sister. Names were used sparingly, except for the toms, who were only ever referred to by their names.

  As Flurry began to lap the poultice gently into Leafstar’s wound, Moonlight padded into camp, trailing long honeysuckle vines from her mouth. Snow, Creek, and Sparrow followed, dragging more vines after them.

  “Is that for the new den?” Leafstar had stopped hiding her curiosity and was as quick now to ask questions as Squirrelflight.

  Flurry finished applying the poultice and looked at her campmates. “We’re building Moonlight’s birthing den.”

  “Are her kits due soon?” Squirrelflight hoped her estimation that the Sisters might be gone by leaf-bare was correct.

  “The kits will come in about a moon,” Flurry told her.

  Moonlight dropped the vines beside the gorse bush and headed across the clearing. “Is the wound healing, Sister?” she called to Flurry as she neared.

  “Yes, Mother. The swelling has gone down,” Flurry told her.

  “Good.” Moonlight stopped beside her and nodded politely to Squirrelflight and Leafstar. “Have you eaten?”

  “Sparrow brought us prey,” Squirrelflight told her. She dipped her head. “I wish you’d let me help with the hunting. I don’t like being treated like an elder.”

  “An elder?” Moonlight looked puzzled.

  Leafstar stretched her injured leg tentatively. “An elder is an old cat. In the Clans, when warriors become elders, they only hunt if they want to. Younger warriors and apprentices make sure they are well fed and cared for. Elders need never leave the camp.”

  “I could never stay in camp all day,” Moonlight meowed.

  “I don’t like it much.” Squirrelflight flicked her tail-tip irritably. “I need to stretch my legs.”

  Leafstar’s ears twitched. “If you let us go, we could both stretch our legs.”

  Moonlight sniffed Leafstar’s wound. “We’ll let you go when we move on. For now you’ll have to put up with living like your elders.”

  Squirrelflight looked on as Creek and Sparrow wove the vines between the branches to build the gorse den. “Can I help here, then?” Two long days of doing nothing had left her restless.

  “That would be kind.” Moonlight straightened. “Leafstar should rest this leg, though.”

  “I’m happy to watch,” Leafstar told her.

  Moonlight led Squirrelflight across the clearing. Flurry padded after them. Stone was still scraping earth from the den. He paused as Squirrelflight reached him. She peered inside and saw that he’d created a wide dip around the central stem. Branches had been broken off to open up the space inside, but the remaining walls were still thick enough to keep the den cool. It looked a lot like a warrior den.

  Tempest padded around the pile of vines. “We’ll need more.”

  Moonlight nodded to Snow. “Sister, take Creek and fetch more,” she meowed.

  Snow dipped her head. She made her way out of camp, Creek hurrying behind her.

  Tempest beckoned Stone and Grass with her tail. “Use these to reinforce the back of the den,” she told them.

  “Sure.” Stone glanced at his brother. “You weave from the inside and I’ll weave from out here.”

  Grass picked up a vine in his teeth and dragged it into the den while Stone hauled another vine around the back.

  As Tempest watched them disappear, Squirrelflight saw sadness in the tabby’s gaze. Was she thinking about their father? Where was he?

  “We’ll work on this side.” Moonlight pulled the remaining vines around the back of the den.

  Squirrelflight followed, glancing at Tempest. “It must have been hard for her, raising her kits alone.”

  Moonlight’s eyes widened. “She didn’t raise them alone. She had us.”

  “But she must miss her mate.”

  Moonlight tucked a vine into the den wall and began to draw it through, tugging at it with her paws. “Why would she miss her mate?”

  “Doesn’t she love him?” Squirrelflight pressed a vine through a gap.

  “I don’t know,” Moonlight told her. “We prefer to live without toms. Tempest could have stayed with him if she’d wanted to, but she chose to travel with us and raise her kits among her sisters.”

  Squirrelflight couldn’t imagine raising kits without Bramblestar. And how could she think of living without him? Even though she hadn’t been gone long, she missed him. Would he forgive her for coming here? Suddenly her heart quickened. She wanted to see him, to explain why she’d crossed the border. He’d understand when he realized how important it was to her.

  “Here.” Moonlight pushed a stray tendril toward her. “Pull this one through.”

  Squirrelflight tugged at it while Moonlight fastened the other end into the wall. “If you prefer not to have toms around, what will happen to Grass and Stone? They’re your kin. Can they stay?”

  “No.” Moonlight sat back on her haunches and inspected her work. “They’re old enough to leave us. We’ve been waiting until the stars are in place.”

  Squirrelflight wondered for a moment if the Sisters had their own StarClan. She glanced at Moonlight. “What do you mean?”

  “Wait until tonight,” Moonlight told her. “You’ll see.”

  “Do they want to leave?” Squirrelflight wondered how the Sisters could send their young away.

  “Of course they want to leave. They’re toms. They have a deep connection with the land. They must travel it as they wish, not be tied to our path.”

  Squirrelflight couldn’t imagine being separated from her kits no matter how old they were. “Won’t Tempest miss them?”

  “At first,” Moonlight told her. “But there will be new litters to take care of.” She glanced at her belly. “And we are each mother to all the young.”

  “Where will Stone and Grass go?”

  “Wherever they choose.” Moonlight reached for the end of Squirrelflight’s vine and began to tuck it between the branches. “They might travel together, or become loners or join rogues, or live with Twopaws. Their ancestors will guide them.”

  “Twopaws?” Squirrelflight asked.

  Moonlight tipped her head. “The furless animals that build big stone dens to live in.”

  Twolegs. Squirrelflight shuddered. “But why would any cat choose to be a kittypet?”

  “Our ancestors were kittypets, as you call them,” Moonlight told her. “All the Sisters are descended from den-bound cats. Our first Mothers were one family.”

  Squirrelflight let go of the vine and Moonlight pulled it. She suddenly understood why the Sisters looked so similar. Their large frames and thick, long fur marked them as different from most of the warriors and rogues Squirrelflight had met. It made sense that they were descended from a single family. She was eager to know more. “Flurry said that you all have medicine-cat skills.”

  Moonlight glanced at her. “What’s a medicine cat?”

  “In the Clans, we have cats who have special knowledge about healing herbs,” she explained.

  “Surely it is safer to share such knowledge?”

  “There’s more to being a medicine cat than knowing about herbs. They have a special gift. They can communicate with our dead ancestors.”

  “They speak with the dead?” Moonlight looked suddenly interested. She rested her forepaws on the ground. “Is their gift passed from mother to kit?”

  “Medicine cats don’t have kits.”

  Moonlight blinked. “Why not?”

  “It’s forbidden. They devote their lives to caring for their Clan.”

  Moonlight frowned. “That mus
t be hard. I couldn’t imagine life without kits.”

  “Nor could I.” Squirrelflight thought of Leafpool. How hard it must have been for her sister to watch Squirrelflight raise Jayfeather, Lionblaze, and Hollyleaf, to pretend all the time that she wasn’t their mother. How much simpler it was here. Kits were born and the Sisters raised them together. They could take mates where they liked. There were no rules about falling in love with cats from other Clans. Or about who could have kits and who couldn’t. And yet they had to send their sons away. She glanced at Moonlight’s belly. “Aren’t you frightened you might have sons who’ll have to leave you?”

  “We can’t hold on to those we love forever,” Moonlight told her.

  “What about their father?” Squirrelflight hesitated. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but did you love him?”

  Moonlight purred, as though she thought the question was funny. “I liked him. But Jack’s an everkit—a den-bound cat. He was fun to be around, and handsome. And I was ready to have another litter. But my life is with my Sisters.”

  Squirrelflight’s heart suddenly ached for the litter she dreamed of. “Will you see him again?”

  “I’ll visit the barn where he lives and show him his kits when they’re old enough to travel,” Moonlight told her. “They may want to know him, and they might even choose to live near him when they’re old enough to leave our group. We let our young decide how they want to live. Not every cat wants a life like ours..”

  As she spoke, Creek and Snow pushed through the ferns at the entrance, dragging long vines behind them. They dropped them beside the birthing den, and Stone took one inside while Moonlight fetched more for the wall. Squirrelflight noticed how peacefully the cats worked, quietly helping one another until Sunrise and Furze padded into camp carrying prey.

  As the sun set, the Sisters finished their work and then settled around the clearing to eat. Moonlight pushed a young rabbit toward Squirrelflight and glanced at the purple sky, where stars were beginning to show. “Look.”

  Squirrelflight followed her gaze toward a patch of stars that seemed to stretch in a line toward the horizon.