Chapter 10
As the moon rose in the sky, Lionpaw laid his head down to rest. Leafpool had applied some more marigold to his shoulders, and he had eaten a couple of poppy seeds to help him sleep. His eyelids drooped from fatigue, and he at last closed them, falling to sleep almost right away. It seemed like only a couple of minutes before he heard a cat call his name.
"Lionpaw, where are you?"
Lionpaw sat up in surprise, his shoulders burning. "I'm here! Who's calling me?"
A starry figure emerged from the depths of the medicine cat's den. Her pelt was tortoiseshell and white, and immediately Lionpaw mewed, "Sorreltail, is that you?"
"No, little one," the tortoiseshell purred. Her voice was soft and caring, and Lionpaw felt relaxed around her. "My name is Spottedleaf."
The name seemed familiar to Lionpaw, but he couldn't remember where he had heard it before. "Who are you? Are you from StarClan?"
"Yes, I am," mewed Spottedleaf. "I used to be the ThunderClan medicine cat, even before your grandfather came to the forest."
Of course! Lionpaw thought, nodding. "Leafpool's told Jaypaw a lot about you," he mewed, "like how you guided her and helped her, and how you helped her uncover Hawkfrost's evil plan."
Spottedleaf smiled lightly. "This time, Lionpaw, I have a message for you." She padded forward and mewed, "I know more about you than you may think. For example, I know about you and Heatherpaw."
This did not come as a surprise to Lionpaw. He remembered that Leafpool had told him this when she had first asked him about it. "What do I do?" he asked Spottedleaf.
"The time will come when things get harder for you two," she mewed, "and it will seem impossible. When that time comes, don't give up on each other. Know which cats to turn to, and you will be fine. You can't wait forever, Lionpaw, but I trust your judgment. After all, you are the one who loves her."
"So I'm supposed to do this all on my own?" Lionpaw asked in disbelief.
"I never said that," Spottedleaf told him. "Have faith, Lionpaw. You'll pull through." Her figure fading into starlight, and Lionpaw stepped forward, calling her name.
"Spottedleaf, tell me more!" he begged. "Help me!"
But the old medicine cat was gone. Lionpaw sat down with a long sigh, wondering what the future would bring him. When would things get harder for them? How would things get harder? Lionpaw wanted answers, but he hadn't had the chance to ask the questions.
A small voice whispered suddenly in his ear, "be strong for her, Lionpaw."
Lionpaw nodded his head, his eyes shining determinedly. "I'll be strong," he vowed, "for Heatherpaw!"
***
The harsh call of an eagle pierced through Heatherpaw's sleep, and she sat up quickly. Breezepaw had already left the den; his nest was cold. Heatherpaw stepped into the camp, looking around at the bustling cats surrounding her. She had woken up late, she was sure of it.
"Heatherpaw, would you be interested in a hunting patrol?" a voice asked. Heatherpaw turned to see Harespring talking to her. Crowfeather and Tornear stood close behind him, waiting patiently for the patrol to start.
"Sure," Heatherpaw replied, still sleepy. She lazily followed the group out of camp and out into the open moors.
Crowfeather gazed out to the horizon. "Heatherpaw, can you scent any prey?" he asked his apprentice, his tail swishing back and forth.
The smell of rabbit flooded Heatherpaw's scent glands, and she nodded. "Rabbit, as usual," she reported. She flicked her tail in the direction of the strongest scent. "Over there, towards the border."
Harespring and Tornear stiffened, and Harespring spoke out. "Heatherpaw, that's near ThunderClan territory. We can't risk going over there, not after the battle."
"Harespring, please," Crowfeather interrupted, "I'm the one leading this patrol, and I say that we should go hunt near the border. It's not like we're going to invade their territory again. We'll stay on the moors, and try to avoid the stream. If we avoid an area abundant with prey, then we're only showing ourselves as cowards and fools. Are WindClan cowards and fools?"
Nobody said anything, but finally Heatherpaw piped up. "No!" she said. "Crowfeather's right. We need to prove our strength to ThunderClan."
"Yeah… what Heatherpaw said," murmured Harespring uncertainly. Tornear sighed, but didn't dare to say anything against Crowfeather.
Crowfeather turned and nodded. "Good," he smirked. "Now follow me." He sprinted across the moors, the rest of the patrol racing to keep up with him.
Wind rushed through Heatherpaw's fur, buffeting her tall ears. She loved the feeling of being weightless, her paws seeming to lift off the ground all at once as she ran. She at last skidded to a stop as Crowfeather halted.
The dark gray tom scented the air and his eyes widened. "Great StarClan," he muttered, "there's a fox around here."
"Fox?" demanded Tornear. "Why didn't we scent it before?"
Heatherpaw's fur bristled. She also sniffed the air. "There's more than one," she added, "and their den isn't far off. I smell milk; maybe there are cubs."
Suddenly, a growl sounded from behind Harespring. The unmistakable bark of a fox echoed around the hills, and three dog-foxes and two she-foxes surrounded them. One of the females smelled of warm milk.
She must have cubs to protect, Heatherpaw thought, fear rising in her throat.
The largest dog-fox, perhaps the father, barked once again and lunged for Tornear. The tabby went down with a yowl, slashing his claws wildly. The four WindClan cats plunged into battle.
"They're too much!" Harespring cried, trying to fend off a she-fox. "We have to get out of here!"
But the foxes seemed to have no intention of that happening. They would fight to the death- either the cats', or theirs. Heatherpaw was tussling with the younger she-fox, slashing the vixen's ear to ribbons. The she-fox howled and retaliated, bringing a paw down on Heatherpaw's shoulder and knocking her down.
Battle cries sounded from all around, and more cats plunged into the clearing. At first, Heatherpaw thought that WindClan had come to save them. Instead, there were five ThunderClan cats, claws unsheathed and jaws open wide in shouts of protest. Lionpaw's golden pelt stood out to Heatherpaw, and she nearly cried out in joy.
Heatherpaw sprang up and pushed the she-fox away from her, readying herself for another leap. She and the vixen both leaped for each other at the same time, but the vixen was stronger. She pinned Heatherpaw to the grass, an evil smirk on her face.
"No!" a voice yelled, and a flash of golden fur pushed the fox off of Heatherpaw. The brown tabby apprentice got up and lunged for the fox again, fighting side-by-side with Lionpaw. She scratched the vixen's shoulder and Lionpaw, whose own shoulder wounds had healed, clawed at her flanks.
At last, the vixen jumped up with a yelp and dashed away from the clearing, bleeding heavily. One of the younger dog-foxes lay dead, blood trickling from his throat. The Clan cats were winning, pushing the foxes farther towards defeat.
Crowfeather kneeled at the edge of the battle, his nearly black fur stained red. He was breathing heavily, and Heatherpaw dashed over to make sure that he was all right. "Crowfeather, are you all right?" she asked him.
"I'm fine," Crowfeather snarled. "We need to get these foxes out of here!"
The remaining she-fox bolted from the clearing, and was tagged by the youngest dog-fox. Tornear dragged the young fox back towards him and the dog-fox yelped. The vixen, not noticing her son's demise, kept on running.
At last, the oldest dog-fox was taken care of, having suffered much blood loss. All nine cats stood with their fur fluffed out and blood along their pelts. Heatherpaw noticed Harespring standing back-to-back with Ashfur, and Tornear standing over a dead fox with Sandstorm by his side.
The cats split back into their Clan groups and stood opposite each other in a line. Heatherpaw and Lionpaw were on opposite sides of the lines; they made strong eye contact until Crowfeather spoke.
"Why did you help us?" he asked, standing opposite Brambleclaw. Heatherpaw looked down the line and noticed Lionpaw, Brambleclaw, Brackenfur, Sandstorm, and Ashfur standing there.
Brambleclaw flicked his tail. "You would have been killed if we hadn't stepped in."
"That's not true!" Harespring protested. "We didn't need ThunderClan's help!"
Crowfeather glared at Harespring and opened his mouth to comment, but Ashfur broke in angrily, "Brambleclaw's right! Those foxes would have ripped you to shreds! You were outnumbered."
Brackenfur licked his paw and swiped it over his ear, cleaning some blood off of it. "You could at least say thank you," he mewed, a tense tone to his voice.
"I won't say thank you to ThunderClan for anything," snarled Tornear. "You're just intruders to us. We could have handled those foxes."
Sandstorm nudged Brambleclaw. "They're right about the intruder part, Brambleclaw," she pointed out, "this is their territory, after all. We should go."
"Go back to camp," Brambleclaw instructed his patrol. "I'll be right there." The other four cats went back over the hills, and Heatherpaw stared after Lionpaw until he disappeared. Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes in a glare of contempt. "Don't think that this means we're friends again," he snarled. "We've chosen to show you respect by not letting you get killed, and we expect to see some respect from you. Don't expect ThunderClan to send out a border patrol every time a fox attacks you."
Crowfeather nodded. "We won't expect it, Brambleclaw."
Without another word, Brambleclaw turned and ran after his patrol. The WindClan cats sat in silence, contemplating what had just happened.
"That was stupid," Tornear spat as soon as Brambleclaw was out of earshot. "We didn't need their help!"
"All they did was prove how weak we were!" Harespring agreed. "I'm sure Brambleclaw will be telling the whole Clan about how they saved WindClan." His voice took on a mocking tone.
Crowfeather glared at him even more. "Who was it that fought side-by-side with Ashfur?" he demanded. He turned to Tornear. "And who was it that killed one of the foxes with Sandstorm's help? Huh? You accepted plenty of help then."
Harespring turned his head away. Crowfeather kept on ranting. "You would rather die than get caught thanking ThunderClan cats for saving your life? Is that it?" he snapped, his fur bristling.
Heatherpaw cowered down, shivering. This side of Crowfeather scared her. Her mentor flicked his ears. "Get back to camp, you ungrateful badgers," he snarled. "Get out of my sight."
Harespring leaped up in fear and sped back to camp, Tornear following behind him slowly. Crowfeather turned to look at Heatherpaw and he instantly calmed down. "I'm sorry, Heatherpaw," he murmured. "I just got so angry at them for what they had said to ThunderClan."
"So you don't want ThunderClan to be at war with us, either," Heatherpaw mewed slowly, regaining her composure.
"No," replied Crowfeather. "I don't." His fur was still fluffed out from anger.
Heatherpaw looked around at the dead foxes. One had received the killing bite, one had gotten his throat torn open very messily, and the other had slits all down his belly. The young apprentice turned away with a shiver and bowed her head in pain.
Crowfeather licked behind her ear comfortingly. "Just be calm," he purred, "and everything will be all right." He sat beside his apprentice as the sun rose to its highest peak in the sky. But no light could ever brighten the darkness that surrounded them, not even if it came from StarClan themselves.