“Are you sure you don’t want to put this off to another day?” he asked.
“Oh, no, I’ll be fine!” Daisy assured him. “I don’t want to wait before I see Smoky and Floss again.”
On the lakeshore, Bramblestar spotted Ivypool, Spiderleg, and Whitewing practicing battle moves with their apprentices. As he and Daisy drew closer, the three young cats dived into the undergrowth that edged the stones.
What are they up to? Bramblestar wondered.
Suddenly Amberpaw and Dewpaw exploded out of the ferns and hurled themselves on top of Daisy. She let out a startled yowl as her paws skidded out from under her, and lay shaking on the ground.
“Get off her, you stupid furballs!” Bramblestar growled, grabbing Amberpaw by the scruff and hauling her off. He gave Dewpaw a hard shove with his hind paws. “What do you think you’re playing at?”
The three mentors came bounding up, while Snowpaw emerged from the bushes looking relieved that for once he wasn’t the cat in trouble.
“We were practicing our stalking!” Amberpaw mewed.
“You didn’t hear us coming, did you?” Dewpaw added.
“Are you mouse-brained?” Whitewing hissed. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, attacking an unprepared cat—and a cat who wasn’t threatening you.”
“Right,” Spiderleg agreed, giving Amberpaw a hard cuff around the ear. “Learn to recognize a real enemy!”
“I’m so sorry,” Whitewing mewed to Daisy, who was sitting up, looking flustered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Daisy replied, shaking her pelt to remove the dirt, then giving herself a quick groom to settle her ruffled fur.
Ivypool gave both apprentices a sharp prod. “Apologize… now!”
Both apprentices were looking dismayed. Daisy helped raise them when they were in the nursery, Bramblestar recalled. She’s the last cat they’d want to hurt.
“We’re very sorry,” Dewpaw mewed, nuzzling Daisy’s shoulder. “We’ll make it up to you.”
“I’ll catch a vole and bring it to the nursery later,” Amberpaw promised. “I know that’s your favorite!”
“And I’ll collect some thrush feathers and make your nest really soft,” Dewpaw added.
Daisy gave both the young cats an affectionate lick around the ears. “It’s okay,” she mewed. “I know you were just practicing. I’ll look forward to the vole and the feathers, though!”
“They didn’t mean to give you a scare,” Bramblestar meowed as he and Daisy continued toward the stream that marked the edge of their territory.
“Oh, I know,” Daisy replied with a flip of her tail. “All apprentices get it wrong sometimes. And it was a pretty good attack move!”
Bramblestar purred in agreement, admiring Daisy for her quick recovery and her clear sympathy for the apprentices. It’s too easy to forget what she does for our kits in the nursery, he thought. He remembered Ferncloud’s words when she gave him one of his nine lives. She had warned him never to underestimate the cats who provided the Clan with its new members, and helped to raise them. And she was right. Daisy deserves as much honor and respect as any warrior.
With a surge of optimism, he sprang over the border stream and picked up the pace until he was running along the shore below the open stretch of moorland. Daisy followed him, though she soon dropped behind. Bramblestar halted and waited for her to catch up.
“Sorry!” she panted. “I’m not used to this. Maybe I should run a bit more often.”
Bramblestar let her set the pace until they reached the marsh; then they followed the WindClan border up the slope until they reached the fence around the horseplace. Daisy flattened herself to the ground and slid underneath. As Bramblestar followed he felt the ground begin to shake, and looked up to see three enormous horses galloping across the field toward them. He crouched down with his tail curled around him, waiting for one of the huge feet to land on him and crush his bones as it stamped him into the ground.
“It’s okay,” Daisy meowed. “Even I can run faster than them. Come this way.”
Bramblestar rose to his paws and gave his pelt a shake, feeling hot with embarrassment. He followed Daisy as she slipped along the fence toward a line of bushes. They looked too thick to find a way through, and Bramblestar was conscious of the horses drawing closer like rolls of thunder. But Daisy dived into a narrow gap between two gnarled stems and vanished out of sight. Bramblestar forced his way in after her, feeling thorns tug at his pelt as he scrambled through. A moment later he popped into the open on the other side; behind him the rumbling hoofbeats stopped and he heard the horses snorting in frustration.
He realized that his fur was bristling with terror and forced it to lie flat again. Daisy was watching him with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “There are different sorts of danger here,” she commented. “Not so many Dark Forest cats, but a lot more living horses!”
“True,” Bramblestar grunted. “Lead the way, Daisy.”
As they headed toward the small wooden barn, Bramblestar spotted Smoky watching them from his perch on a fencepost. His eyes glowed with pleasure as he leaped down to touch noses with Daisy.
“It’s great to see you!” he purred. He sounded more wary as he turned to Bramblestar. “I’ve met you before, haven’t I?” he meowed. “Back when you were a young cat, I think.”
“He’s Clan leader now!” Daisy told the gray-and-white tom.
“Really?” Smoky didn’t sound impressed.
“Where’s Floss?” Daisy asked, looking around. “I can’t wait to see her again.”
Smoky bowed his head, and his voice was somber as he replied, “Floss is dead.”
“No!” Daisy exclaimed. “How did it happen?”
“She caught greencough,” Smoky explained. “The Twolegs tried to treat her, but it was no use.”
For a few heartbeats Daisy was too upset to speak. She flexed her front claws, ripping up the turf. Smoky pressed himself to her side. “If you like, I’ll show you where she’s buried,” he mewed.
Daisy nodded mutely. Bramblestar followed a pace or two behind as Smoky led Daisy around the back of the barn to a small mound of fresh earth.
“Pip’s buried here, too,” Smoky told her. “You remember the dog? He was an annoying little flea-pelt, but now that he’s gone, I kinda miss him.”
Daisy turned a shocked look on the horseplace cat. “So much has happened!” she gasped. “And I’m only a moment’s travel away. How could I not have known?”
Smoky shrugged. “I know I’m not welcome in the woods or on the moor. Besides, Daisy, you made the choice to leave us. We have to respect that.”
For a heartbeat, Bramblestar thought Daisy looked as though she was regretting her decision. Movement at the corner of his eye distracted him. He turned to see a young she-cat appear around the side of the barn, her tortoiseshell-and-white pelt shining in the sunlight.
“You’re new here,” Daisy commented as the newcomer bounded up. There was an edge to her tone, and her fur began to fluff up. “Who are you?”
“This is Coriander,” Smoky mewed, brushing his pelt against the tortoiseshell cat. “She replaced Floss. She’s a great mouser!”
“Replaced Floss?” Daisy sounded even more upset. “How can any cat replace Floss?”
Bramblestar rested his tail-tip on her shoulder, trying to warn her silently that there was no point in getting agitated. Daisy seemed to understand, and took a deep breath. “Greetings,” she meowed, dipping her head to Coriander.
The young she-cat didn’t return the gesture. “You must be some of those weird cats from the woods,” she mewed. “What are you doing here?”