MUST REMAIN TO YOUR CLAN.
It’s hard to imagine a time when cats were allowed to have friendships with cats in other Clans. I know better than most cats the agony of loving a cat from a different Clan—and of knowing that I had to return to my own Clanmates because they needed me, and because I wanted to remain loyal to the warrior code. Come with me, and let me show you the sad fate of Ryewhisker and Cloudberry. Though it breaks my heart, you will see why this terrible piece of the code came to be.
As every cat must learn, the strength of the entire Clan depends on the loyalty of each one of its members.
The Beginning of the Warrior Code
“Race you to the hawthorn bush!”
“Not fair, Ryewhisker! You know you’ll win!” protested Cloudberry.
Ryewhisker turned to look back at the dark gray she-cat.
Cloudberry was slender for a RiverClan cat, but her fur was thick and sleek.
“I’ll give you a head start,” he offered. Cloudberry tipped her head on one side, her blue eyes sparkling. “Or… or I’ll close my eyes, or run backward, or carry a stone in my mouth…”
“Bee-brain,” she purred. She padded up to him and rubbed her head against his cheek. “I’ll race you to the hawthorn if you race me across the river.”
Ryewhisker backed away, shaking his head. “No way! You can’t tell me it’s natural to get your fur wet! I tried it once, don’t you remember?”
“You fell off a stepping-stone! Hardly a proper way to start swimming!”
Ryewhisker reached out with his tail to touch Cloudberry’s flank. “Do you think our kits will be able to run fast and swim?” he meowed softly.
Cloudberry stared at him in astonishment. “How did you know? I… I was going to tell you, I promise, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel. I thought you might want WindClan kits…”
Ryewhisker let out a frustrated mrrrow. “They will be WindClan kits! And RiverClan kits! They will be ours, and that’s all that matters! Do your Clanmates know?”
The she-cat began to roll some small stones restlessly beneath her paw. “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first.”
“You’re worried about what your father will say, aren’t you?” Ryewhisker guessed.
Cloudberry looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “Emberstar is a good leader. You can’t blame him for wanting more RiverClan kits. We need more warriors after that bout of greencough in leaf-bare.”
“But they wil be RiverClan kits!” Ryewhisker reminded her.
He flicked his tail impatiently. “I’ll let you teach them to swim as soon as they open their eyes!”
“Then you’ll let me raise them in RiverClan?” Cloudberry queried.
Ryewhisker blinked. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Well, yes,” he meowed. “I’ll come stay with you when they’re born, of course. Your father has never minded me staying in your camp.
And you can bring them to WindClan when they’re old enough to walk that far.”
Cloudberry nodded, but her eyes were still troubled.
Ryewhisker pressed his muzzle against her ear. “It’ll be fine,” he promised. “Every cat knows that Emberstar’s closest friend is Thistletail, in ThunderClan. If any cat understands that friendships don’t stop at the border of a territory, it’s Emberstar.”
“But what about the stolen fish?” Cloudberry asked. Last moon, RiverClan had accused WindClan of stealing fish from the river and had sent a patrol to Duststar, WindClan’s leader, to warn him to keep away. Duststar had insisted his Clan would never eat fish, but Ryewhisker knew the RiverClan cats were still suspicious.
“We didn’t take those fish,” he told Cloudberry. “Maybe these kits will bring our Clans together again.”
Cloudberry relaxed against him and Ryewhisker closed his eyes, imagining tiny lives stirring within her, dark gray like their mother or brown tabby like him, swift-pawed and strong swimmers. These kits would bring peace between the two Clans, he was sure of it.
“WindClan! Retreat!”
Ryewhisker shook his head to clear the blood from his eyes as Stonetail yowled the order. The big gray tom was standing on a tree stump, wild-eyed as he called to his Clanmates to leave the battleground. Ryewhisker leaped back, freeing the RiverClan warrior from beneath his paws. This fight was all RiverClan’s fault! They had accused WindClan twice more of stealing fish and threatened to tell the other Clans that the cats on the moor were thieves and trespassers. As if any WindClan warriors would get their paws wet chasing that slimy prey!
Duststar had decided that the only way to stop the complaints was to teach RiverClan that WindClan cats were strong enough to catch their own prey—and well-enough fed not to need anyone else’s.
“Retreat!” Stonetail yowled again.
“Mouse-hearted cowards!” spat a RiverClan warrior behind them.
“If you’re going to steal our fish, you should make sure you’re strong enough to fight us for it!” hissed another.
Ryewhisker felt the fur stand up along his spine, and his paws tingled with the urge to spin around and claw their ears. When would these dumb cats realize that WindClan was not stealing their precious fish? The reeds closed around them as they headed back toward the Twoleg bridge, and for a moment Ryewhisker could hear nothing except his Clanmates’ panting and the rattling of the brittle stalks.
“Stop right there!” screeched a voice up ahead.
Ryewhisker collided with Hawkfur’s haunches as the black warrior halted in front of him. Peering past his Clanmate, he saw a ginger-and-white RiverClan warrior glaring at Stonetail, blocking his way.
“You didn’t think we’d let you go so easily, did you?” growled the RiverClan cat.
Stonetail didn’t flinch. “We’ll continue to fight if we have to,” he replied. “Is that what you want?”
The RiverClan warrior bared his teeth. “This fight is far from over!” He sprang at Stonetail, who rolled onto his back, scrabbling at his attacker’s belly with his hind paws. The reeds clattered together and more RiverClan warriors rushed forward, leaping onto the WindClan cats. A stocky gray tabby sank its claws into Ryewhisker’s shoulder and dragged him onto the ground. Ryewhisker ripped himself free, blood soaking into his fur, and jumped at the warrior with all four paws stretched out.
The warrior crouched low and sprang up to meet him, knocking him out of the air and grappling with him as they fell side by side, lying half in and half out of the reeds.
Ryewhisker found himself being smothered by thick gray fur.
He wrenched his head up to draw breath—and stared straight into the startled blue eyes of Cloudberry. As he watched, a dark shadow reared up behind her, claws glinting in the sun, and plunged down onto her neck.
“No!” screeched Ryewhisker, leaping up so violently that the attacker, Ryewhisker’s Clanmate Hawkfur, tumbled off into the reeds.
“Ryewhisker, you can’t do this!” called the gray she-cat, who was struggling to her paws. “We have to fight our own battles!”
Ryewhisker glanced at her over his shoulder. “You think I’m going to let our kits be harmed by my own Clanmate?”
Hawkfur stared at him in disbelief. “Kits?” he echoed.
The brown tabby met his gaze. “Cloudberry is expecting my kits. I cannot let you hurt her.”
“Look out!” screeched Cloudberry.
There was a thunder of paws, abruptly cut off as a broad-shouldered RiverClan warrior leaped into the air. Then a soft thud as Ryewhisker’s legs folded under the weight of his attacker and he slumped to the ground, his eyes already closed. Blood pooled out from his shoulder, dark and shiny on the wet ground.