“A good name for a strong warrior,” Larksong commented. She sniffed at the mouse and sat up, stretching. “You’ll miss him.”
“What?” Bluefur was unnerved by the solemn look in the old she-cat’s eyes.
“Whitestorm.”
“He’s not going anywhere. In fact he’ll be closer now that we’ll be sharing the same den.”
“But he won’t need you as much.”
Bluefur felt a pang. It was true. “I still have Frostpaw to train,” she pointed out.
“Training an apprentice is not the same as raising a kit.”
Bluefur blinked as Larksong went on. “You gave up everything for Snowfur’s kit. Look around you: Your Clanmates have mates, kits—lives of their own, beyond being a mentor.”
“There’s nothing more important than training warriors!” Bluefur protested.
Larksong gazed at her. “Really?”
Bluefur shifted her paws.
“You’ve fulfilled your promise to Snowfur,” Larksong mewed softly. “You need to live your own life now, Bluefur, before you wake up and realize that you’re as empty as a beech husk.”
Is that how the old she-cat really saw life? Surely there were things to offer the Clan other than kits! Bluefur was proud of what she’d done for Whitestorm, what she was doing with Frostpaw. Her apprentice was going to make a fine warrior. My life isn’t empty! She started to back out of the den. Was this really how her Clanmates saw her?
Larksong prodded the mouse and, without looking up, rasped, “Maybe Thrushpelt has waited long enough.”
Bluefur scooted from the den without replying. Was Larksong telling her to take Thrushpelt as a mate? She shook her head, baffled.
“Bluefur!” Tawnyspots was calling her from beneath Highrock. “You can join Lionheart’s hunting patrol!”
Lionheart and Goldenflower were pacing the clearing, while Thrushpelt sat nearby, plucking absently at the ground. Bluefur nodded to Tawnyspots. The ThunderClan deputy was growing thin again, his eyes tired. The sickness that had dogged him last leaf-bare seemed to be returning. The Clan cats might need a new deputy sooner than they thought.
And if that happens, I need to be ready. Having a mate would only distract me, take away my focus. It’s for the sake of my Clan!
“Ready?” Lionheart was staring at her, his yellow eyes bright.
Bluefur nodded and followed the golden warrior as he led Goldenflower and Thrushpelt out of the camp. They headed for the river, the ground turning wet underpaw as they neared the shore. Wet ferns draped themselves over Bluefur’s pelt. The rain made prey-scent harder to detect.
“We should split up.” Lionheart halted and looked over his patrol. “We’ll have more chance of picking up scents if we cover a wider area.”
Bluefur nodded. As her Clanmates headed in different directions, she chose a path through the undergrowth onto wetter ground. Mud squelched between her claws as she picked up the scent of squirrel. With her heart quickening, she followed the trail, pulling up when Thrushpelt’s scent tainted the bushes. She didn’t want to steal his prey, so she doubled back, heading closer to the river.
Something hopped between the clumps of marsh grass. Pricking her ears, Bluefur dropped into a crouch. A small moorhen was flitting low along the ground, stopping to peck at roots and snuffle for food in the mud. Water seeped up and soaked her belly as Bluefur crept forward. The bird hadn’t seen her. It was too busy rooting around in the marsh grass.
Bluefur sprang and grasped it with unsheathed claws. It fluttered for a moment in her paws, then fell still as she nipped its neck. It would make a tasty treat for White-eye.
“Good catch!”
A deep mew made her jump. Someone had called from the other side of the river. She spun around, the moorhen dangling from her jaws.
Oakheart!
The RiverClan tom was watching her from the far shore.
Bluefur dropped her catch and glared at him. “Are you spying on me?”
“No.” Oakheart looked mildly amused. “I’m allowed to patrol my own territory, you know.”
Lionheart’s call sounded from farther up the bank. “Bluefur!”
“I have to go,” she told Oakheart.
He stared at her, his amber gaze unwavering. “Okay.”
She headed away with her prey, reluctant to leave. Walking away from the RiverClan tom left a hard, hollow feeling in her belly.
He’s RiverClan, she reminded herself sharply.
Her Clanmates were waiting, each with prey.
“Were you talking to someone?” Lionheart asked her.
Bluefur dropped her catch. “Just to myself,” she meowed quickly.
Thrushpelt glanced admiringly at the moorhen. “Nice catch,” he purred.
“Thanks.” Bluefur didn’t meet his gaze. Somehow the ThunderClan warrior’s praise didn’t spark the same thrill in her as Oakheart’s had done.
Chapter 34
“We need to take back Sunningrocks!”
Sunstar’s announcement from Highrock was greeted with cheers from his Clanmates below the Highrock.
“About time, too!” Adderfang called.
“They’ve ruled those rocks for too long,” Stormtail agreed.
Tigerclaw gouged deep scars in the ground with his long claws, his eyes fired with excitement.
He’s more interested in the battle than in winning Sunningrocks, Bluefur guessed.
A light drizzle had fallen steadily since she’d returned with her moorhen, and the Clan’s pelts clung, dripping, to their flanks as they listened to Sunstar.
“Leaf-bare is coming, and we have more warriors to feed. With kits on the way, too, we’ll need as much territory as possible to hunt.”
White-eye was watching from outside the nursery. Her mate, Sparrowpelt, lifted his muzzle. “When will we fight?”
Sunstar shook his head. “I want to take Sunningrocks without a battle,” he meowed.
Thistleclaw stared at the Clan leader as if he’d grown an extra head. “What?”
“We can beat them easily,” Tigerclaw growled.
Sparrowpelt put his head on one side. “How do we take Sunningrocks without a battle?”
Robinwing lashed her tail. “RiverClan won’t just give it up because we ask.”
“They might,” Sunstar suggested.
Thistleclaw bristled. “You’re going to ask for Sunningrocks back?”
Tigerclaw curled his lip. “Or are you going to beg?”
Sunstar glared at the dark warrior. “ThunderClan never begs!” He unsheathed his claws.
Tigerclaw lowered his gaze.
“Why risk a battle we don’t need to fight?” Sunstar yowled. “ThunderClan is strong. We have some of the most skilled warriors in the forest.” He gazed around the Clan, his gaze lingering on Tigerclaw and then Whitestorm. “The other Clans know that. Do you think RiverClan will really want to fight over territory they don’t need? They use the rocks for basking in the sun, not for hunting prey. We will show them our warriors and persuade them that giving up Sunningrocks would be a wise decision for both Clans.”
Stormtail’s eyes lit with interest. “You mean take a patrol to their camp?” he guessed.
Sunstar nodded. “We’ll tell them that we own Sunningrocks, and that we’ll shred any RiverClan cat who dares set paw on it again.”
Dappletail blinked. “March into their camp and tell them that? It’ll be suicide.”
Tigerclaw growled, “Not if we send a strong enough patrol.” His amber eyes narrowed. “We go in peace but threaten war if they don’t cooperate.” He clearly approved of the plan. Bluefur pictured the broad-shouldered warrior standing in RiverClan’s camp; suddenly the nursery and the elders’ den would seem vulnerable. RiverClan would be likely to agree to anything.