“Thank you for finding SkyClan. It’s the sort of thing your mother would have done. She was brave and adventurous too.”
Violetpaw swallowed back jealousy. Aren’t I brave and adventurous?
Hawkwing touched his nose to Violetpaw’s ear. “You’re more like me,” he purred. “Your mother would have loved you both very much, just as I do.”
Violetpaw held his gaze, saying nothing. The grief in her heart seemed to melt into warmth. Purring, she rubbed her muzzle along Hawkwing’s jaw, and then Twigpaw’s. She suddenly was happier than she could have ever imagined possible.
For the first time in her life, Violetpaw felt like she belonged.
CHAPTER 4
Twigpaw glanced nervously at the towering pines. A fierce wind was hollering through the branches, rocking the trees. She missed ThunderClan territory, where the trees seemed sturdier, their ancient roots thick and twisted deep into the earth. Here in the pine forest, she felt as if a tree could topple anytime.
“Twigpaw! Stop staring at the trees and help,” Finpaw called. The brown-and-ginger apprentice blinked at her.
Leafstar had sent Twigpaw with Finpaw and Dewpaw to find twigs to build the camp, while Reedpaw had stayed behind to pick burrs from the moss they’d gathered yesterday. Finpaw had already collected a pile of sticks. His brother was a little farther off, reaching beneath a bramble bush.
Twigpaw padded toward them, still craning her neck to watch the swirling treetops. “Aren’t you scared a tree might fall down?”
Dewpaw wriggled out from the bramble, his brown tabby fur ruffled. “Why should they? They’ve been here as long as StarClan.”
“But it’s so windy.” Twigpaw had to raise her voice against the swish of the branches. She squeaked with alarm as a small twig tumbled down and landed on her back.
Finpaw’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “I thought you were used to living in a forest.”
“ThunderClan’s forest is different.” Twigpaw fluffed out her fur, pretending not to be embarrassed. “When the wind blows there, you can hardly tell. The trees protect us from the wind; they don’t whirl about like reeds.”
“ShadowClan seems happy in the pine forest,” Finpaw reminded her.
“At least the wind means there are plenty of twigs to gather,” Dewpaw added.
Twigpaw scanned the forest. Falling twigs caught her eye everywhere, and the forest floor was sprinkled with thin stems that would be perfect for weaving into den walls. She pawed one toward her, then turned to pick up the one that had bounced off her back. She tried not to notice the irritation that wormed in her belly. Why had she been sent out on an apprentice errand? She’d passed her assessment. If she’d stayed in ThunderClan, she’d have her warrior name by now. She’d be building dens, not gathering supplies.
She pushed the thought away. You chose to join SkyClan, she reminded herself. You wanted to be with Violetpaw and Hawkwing. And yet she was finding it strange to have new Clanmates. The SkyClan cats were kind, but she was used to the order and routine of the ThunderClan camp. Leafstar seemed more like an ordinary warrior than a leader. She worked and hunted and patrolled alongside her Clanmates as though she were no different. Hawkwing, even though he was deputy, let the cats organize their own hunting patrols. Occasionally he would suggest that it was time to patrol the border, but he let cats volunteer rather than ordering them to go.
It’s just because they are finding their paws in a new home, she decided.
But that didn’t explain SkyClan’s fondness for kittypets. Twigpaw had been shocked to learn that SkyClan used to have kittypets as part of their Clan, and that they used to come and go, living with the Clan and their Twolegs. SkyClan had called these cats “daylight warriors.” Twigpaw couldn’t understand how you could be a warrior only part of the time. You were either a warrior or you weren’t. At least Macgyver had made the decision to stay with the Clan for good. So he was almost a real warrior. But like Millie back in ThunderClan, he’d kept his kittypet name.
And there are so few SkyClan cats. Twigpaw frowned. There were almost as many apprentices as there were warriors. And it was strange to have no elders at all. Twigpaw remembered, with a pang, Graystripe and Millie. They had seemed like the steadying roots of ThunderClan, always ready with a reassuring word or teasing complaint that made everything feel okay.
She had thought being with Violetpaw and Hawkwing would cure her homesickness, but the longer she spent with them, the more she realized how alike the two of them were. They practically shared thoughts. Sometimes, talking to them felt like talking to one cat. It made her feel like an outsider. I’m supposed to be the one with the special bond with Hawkwing. I rescued SkyClan. She was ashamed of the thought, but she couldn’t help thinking it. You do have a bond with Hawkwing, she told herself. It’s just not the same as Violetpaw’s.
She realized that Finpaw was staring at her. “Are all ThunderClan cats such dreamers?” he mewed.
She blinked at him, sensing that she’d been lost in her thoughts. “Sorry.” She reached for another twig and dragged it onto her tiny pile. Pine needles caught under her claws. “I’m still getting used to being in a new home. Don’t you find it strange?”
“Everything has felt strange for so long, it feels almost normal now,” Finpaw told her.
“Do you miss the gorge?” she asked.
Finpaw shrugged. “I never lived there.”
Dewpaw padded over, a bundle of twigs bunched between his jaws. He dropped them beside Finpaw’s. “We were born beside another lake after they’d left the gorge,” he explained. “SkyClan lived there for a season.”
Twigpaw pricked her ears. “So you’ve never seen the gorge?”
“Never,” Finpaw told her. There was a wistful look in his yellow eyes.
“But you wish you had?” she wondered.
Finpaw looked away. “The other cats talk about it so much,” he mewed. “I kind of wish I knew what they were talking about.”
Twigpaw’s heart pricked with sympathy. “Me too.” She’d thought she was the only one who felt left out when the SkyClan warriors started reminiscing about their old life.
Finpaw blinked at her warmly. “Next time they start talking about their old life, we can remember the exciting day we spent collecting twigs.” He winked at her. Then he nodded at her meager pile. “We should collect a few more and head back to camp.”
Dewpaw scanned the forest floor, whisking his tail as his gaze reached a patch of scattered sticks. “I’ll fetch those.”
“We’ll look under this bush.” Finpaw headed toward a spreading juniper. “There might be some snagged in the branches.”
Twigpaw hurried past him. She wanted to make up for gathering so few. She dived under the bush and wriggled on her belly. A few sticks were caught around the central stem. She dug her claws into them and dragged them out. As she emerged, something slithered beside her. “Snake!” With a squeal, she leaped backward, her fur on end.
Finpaw purred loudly. “That’s not a snake.” He lifted a twisted root with his paw and blinked at Twigpaw. “You’re so jumpy!”
Twigpaw shook out her fur, trying not to let him see her paws shaking. “All this wind is making me nervous,” she mewed hotly.
It was still tearing at the trees, roaring louder now. The forest floor echoed with the creaking of trunks.