She nodded. “So you didn’t want to stop me from finding my father?”
Ivypool blinked at her slowly. “Of course not. And I’m sorry you thought I did, and that my actions put you in danger.”
“And you’re not mad that I snuck off by myself?” Twigpaw pressed.
“I would have done the same.” Ivypool’s gaze was warm. “I’m glad you came back safely. ThunderClan is lucky to have you.”
A purr swelled in Twigpaw’s throat. She felt happy they’d cleared the air. Suddenly, Cherryfall’s complaints didn’t seem important. Once more she felt sure she’d done the right thing by bringing SkyClan home. “Thanks, Ivypool.”
Ivypool nodded toward the medicine den. “I think Violetpaw wants you.”
Twigpaw followed her gaze. Violetpaw was staring at her anxiously from beside the entrance. Was something wrong with Hawkwing? Twigpaw hurried toward her, heart beating in her throat. “What’s happened?”
Jayfeather looked up as she passed him. “Nothing.” He lifted one of Briarlight’s crippled hind legs with his paws and began to ease it up and down slowly. “Alderheart’s just decided that SkyClan needs twice as much attention as any other cats in this camp. Perhaps he’s hoping Leafstar will make him their medicine cat.”
“That’s not fair!” Twigpaw stopped and stared at Jayfeather. “He’s just being a good medicine cat. Like you taught him to be.”
Jayfeather’s blind blue gaze fixed on her, but he didn’t say anything. Indeed, his eyes widened slightly, as though he was impressed that she’d stood up to him.
“Come inside,” Violetpaw urged. Her gaze flitted around the busy camp. Twigpaw knew her sister wasn’t comfortable in ThunderClan. But she hadn’t been comfortable in ShadowClan, either. Or with the rogues. She only seemed happy with Hawkwing by her side.
Twigpaw followed her into the medicine den. Inside, late sunshine glittered at the top of the small hollow, sparkling on the damp cliff face where water trickled down to a small pool. Beside it, Alderheart was checking Hawkwing’s pelt. “The scratches have healed and you’re looking better,” the medicine cat told him.
“So I can hunt now?” Hawkwing looked eager.
“You should still rest for a few more days.” Alderheart pawed a small pile of herbs toward the SkyClan deputy.
“Are you sure?” Hawkwing meowed impatiently. “I don’t like being a burden on ThunderClan. I want to contribute to the fresh-kill pile.”
“I’m sure.” Alderheart sat back on his haunches. “And I’m sure a few mice and voles will be happy to live another day.”
Hawkwing caught sight of Twigpaw. He purred. “How was the hunt?”
“Great.” She crossed the medicine den and rubbed her cheek against his. “I caught a mouse and a shrew.”
“I can’t wait until I can be out there with you.” His gaze flicked to Violetpaw. “I always dreamed I’d hunt beside my kits one day.”
Violetpaw sat down and wrapped her paws over her tail, returning her father’s gaze happily.
Twigpaw felt a twinge of guilt. Hawkwing had already said that he would be happy for her to join SkyClan. Was she supposed to? Were kin more important than the Clan that had raised her?
“You’ve both grown into such fine cats.” Hawkwing turned to Alderheart. “I can’t thank you enough for finding them and looking after them.”
Alderheart glanced away self-consciously. “It was my privilege,” he murmured. “And I’m glad SkyClan is back where it belongs. I’ve been searching for you ever since my first vision.”
“It’s good to be among the other Clans,” Hawkwing meowed. “All we need now is our own territory so we don’t have to rely on the kindness of others.”
There’s not enough room around the lake for an extra Clan. Cherryfall’s words rang in Twigpaw’s head. But there was plenty of room. It took a whole day to mark the borders of ThunderClan territory. She guessed the same was true of the other Clans’ land. Surely they didn’t need that much space? Cherryfall’s just being difficult. She dismissed her Clanmate’s words. “There’s prey outside,” she mewed. “Let’s go and find something to eat.”
“Eat your herbs first,” Alderheart told Hawkwing.
Twigpaw headed for the entrance while Hawkwing lapped up the shredded leaves. As she ducked outside, an angry yowl pierced the air.
“What is Mosspelt supposed to eat?” Owlnose, a brown tabby RiverClan tom, was staring angrily at Cloudtail. The fresh-kill pile had dwindled, but there were still plenty of mice and voles there, along with Cherryfall’s rabbit.
“There’s more than enough left for Mosspelt,” Cloudtail answered sharply. “I don’t know why you’re making a fuss.”
Owlnose glared at him. “Have you forgotten the warrior code? The weakest cats eat first.” He glanced at the ThunderClan warriors eating prey around the edge of the clearing and then at Graystripe and Millie, who were tucking into a thrush. His angry glare seemed to silence the Clans. A hush descended over the hollow. “Why do your elders eat while ours goes hungry?”
Mosspelt was sitting outside the elders’ den, eyes bleary.
Graystripe looked up from his meal, his ears pricking. “Has some cat gone hungry?”
“Mosspelt,” Owlnose meowed indignantly.
“She was asleep,” Graystripe told him. “Even RiverClan cats can’t eat in their sleep, and I didn’t want to wake her. There’s nothing worse than being woken from a nap.”
Owlnose scowled at him. “Going hungry is worse.”
Millie sat up. “Mosspelt can share with us.” With a flick of her tail, she beckoned the RiverClan elder toward the thrush.
Mosspelt headed toward it, her pelt prickling self-consciously.
Owlnose’s fur bristled. “So all we get is ThunderClan leftovers now?”
“Perhaps if you spent more time hunting and less time complaining, there’d be enough for everyone.” Molewhisker lifted his chin defiantly.
But there is enough for everyone. Twigpaw looked at the prey left on the fresh-kill pile. Why were the toms making such a fuss?
Hawkwing and Violetpaw padded from the medicine den.
“What are they arguing about?” Violetpaw whispered as Lakeheart and Brackenpelt joined Owlnose and glared at Molewhisker.
Twigpaw shifted her paws uneasily. “I think there are too many warriors in one camp.”
The thorn barrier trembled and Mistystar padded in, Minnowtail, Breezepaw, Mallownose, and Podlight following at her heels. They stopped and stared in surprise. The camp was suddenly silent. “What’s happening here?” the RiverClan leader demanded.
Bramblestar leaped from Highledge. “Just a disagreement,” he explained. “It’s nothing to worry about. Every cat will feel better once they’ve eaten.”
Mistystar looked at Owlnose, Lakeheart, and Brackenpelt. “I hope you are showing respect. ThunderClan has been kind to us.”
The warriors didn’t meet her gaze.
Mistystar flicked her tail sharply. She turned to Bramblestar and dipped her head. “Thank you for your generosity. But I think it’s time RiverClan returned to our camp.”
Bramblestar flicked his muzzle toward Reedwhisker and Mintfur, the most injured of the RiverClan warriors. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
Mistystar glanced at them. “Don’t worry. Our injured cats will be cared for. Our medicine cats are as skilled as yours. And we’ve made good progress rebuilding the camp. We need to be home now to finish the work.”
Bramblestar nodded. “Very well. Would you like me to send a ThunderClan patrol with you? They could stay and help.”