“We tracked that fox to the border, so hopefully it will stay away,” one voice reported.
“I’m on dawn patrol tomorrow, so I’ll look out for any new scents,” came the reply.
“The elders are convinced it will come back once more,” meowed another voice. “They said that foxes will check out a place twice before deciding whether or not to settle. I think we should take their advice and be prepared to chase it out again.”
“I promised I’d take all the apprentices for a fishing lesson tomorrow. Could you do a hunting patrol in my place?”
“Sure. With those kits due any day, we’re going to need a full fresh-kill pile. Have you seen how much the queens eat when they’re nursing?”
There was a mrrow of amusement from the other cats, and Meadowpelt purred, too. Whoever these cats were, they were the kind of warriors RiverClan could be proud of: brave, loyal, hardworking, and aware of how much the whole Clan depended on them, from the frailest elder to the tiniest kit.
Warm dawn light roused Meadowpelt and he sat up, blinking, in the sunlit cavern. Was that it? He’d spent a night in his own
Clan, listening to unidentified cats talk about their lives? How is that supposed to help?
There was the faintest echo inside his head: A night in his own Clan, listening… But how does that provide me with answers for our mouse-brained warriors?
Silence pressed on his ears. What was he going to tell Troutstar?
A night of listening…
To cats who cared about their Clan, who understood their duties and took pride in doing them well.
Is that what the warriors need?
Meadowpelt burst into the dazzling air and started to run down the rock-strewn hill. StarClan had given him the answer!
“One night? To think about being a warrior?” Troutstar sounded unconvinced, and Meadowpelt was starting to wonder if this wasn’t such a great idea after all. Knowing the current RiverClan cats, they’d just come up with a bunch of games to play in the dark.
But Meadowpelt kept his doubts to himself. The full moon was only a day away, and with any luck a sleepless night would at least make the warriors too tired to carry out their mouse-brained scheme of jumping into the gorge.
The young cats looked startled when Troutstar explained what they had to do: spend one night in silent vigil, watching over the camp while their Clanmates slept. “And make sure you listen, as well!” he added sternly.
63
The sun was already sliding behind the outline of the Twoleg barns beyond the willow trees, so the Clan started to prepare for the night. Molewhisker, Lightningpelt, and Nettlepad stayed in the middle of the clearing, looking uncertain about what they were supposed to be doing. Meadowpelt couldn’t blame them; he wasn’t sure anymore that he’d understood StarClan.
Meadowpelt slid into his nest and gave in to a wave of black sleep.
“Fox! Wake up! Fox attack!”
Meadowpelt was on his feet and racing into the clearing before he had fully opened his eyes. The camp was bathed in cold white light and cats were plunging out of the reeds, hissing in alarm. Nettlepad stood in the middle of the clearing with his fur bristling.
“We heard a fox!” he gasped. “Creeping up on the nursery.
Molewhisker and Lightningpelt have chased it away.”
Troutstar nodded to a couple of senior warriors. “Go after them. Make sure they don’t try to confront the fox. We just need it to leave the territory.”
A white she-cat with splashes of ginger on her fur padded up to Nettlepad. A pair of tiny kits bundled along beside her. “You saved our lives!” she exclaimed. “Thank you!”
“I didn’t even hear that mangy ol’ fox creeping up on us!”
squeaked one of the kits.
“Yeah, even though you’ve got really big ears!” taunted his littermate.
“Have not!”
“Have so! You look like a rabbit!”
Meadowpelt padded over to Nettlepad, who was looking rather uncomfortable at being the center of attention. “Sunspots is right; you saved her life and her kits’. You should be very proud.”
Nettlepad shuffled his paws. “It’s because we were being quiet, like you said. We’d never have heard that fox if we’d been in our dens.”
Meadowpelt narrowed his eyes. “Or jumping into the gorge.
Or climbing the Great Oaks at Fourtrees. Or chasing one another through the reeds, scaring off prey.”
Nettlepad hung his head. “Yeah, I guess that was pretty mouse-brained.”
Just then, Lightningpelt and Molewhisker hurtled back into the clearing, followed by the senior warriors. “We chased that fox all the way to the border!” Molewhisker panted, his eyes shining with triumph.
“It won’t come back here in a hurry!” Lightningpelt declared.
“Don’t be so sure,” rasped Fernleaf, one of the elders. “Foxes have a habit of coming back once more before they decide whether or not to settle. You need to be ready to chase it off again.”
Molewhisker straightened up. “No problem,” he promised.
Lightningpelt spotted a row of apprentices peering out of their den. “Hey there! I know some great fishing techniques! Would you like me to show you them today?”
Nettlepad nodded. “She’s really good, honestly. I’ll do your hunting patrol for you, Lightningpelt.”
“Thanks, that would be really helpful.”
Meadowpelt stared. His vision was unfolding around him, faces and scents falling into place like raindrops. A night of listening had turned these cats into warriors that RiverClan could be proud of.
“Thank you, Meadowpelt,” murmured a voice beside him. It was Troutstar.
Meadowpelt shrugged. “Thank StarClan,” he mewed gruffly.
“At the Gathering tomorrow night, I’ll suggest we add a new part to the warrior code: that all new warriors must spend one night in silent vigil so they understand how much their Clan needs them now,” Troutstar went on.
Meadowpelt nodded, and inside a small worm of pride stretched and swelled satisfyingly. Yes, make it part of the warrior code, so that all cats have a night of listening…
Squirrelflight’s Words of Wisdom
One day even you might have to sit vigil. Here are a few tips from Squirrelflight to help you pass the night—if you’re a ThunderClan warrior, that is!
A vigil is the proudest and scariest night of any warrior’s life.
It was for me! Having to spend a whole night awake guarding the Clan, trying not to doze off, jumping at every leaf fall in case it’s an enemy attack, it’s enough to send any cat running back to the nursery. So, I’m going to give you some tips on how to get through a vigil. That way you’ll be prepared when it’s your turn.
First, don’t lie near the warriors’ den; the noise of all that snoring will make you want to nod off. Or deafen you. If you feel sleepy, jump onto the Highledge—quietly, obviously, so you don’t wake Firestar. I know, I know, we’re not supposed to go up there, but it will give you a surge of energy and keep you going. When I kept my warrior’s vigil, back in the old forest, I climbed onto the Highrock in the middle of the night and it was amazing. The camp looked so tiny!