“Well, what do you think?” Sweetbriar demanded. Before Pinepaw could reply, she turned to Mistpelt. “Was he good? Did he listen to you?”
Pinepaw wriggled free. “Of course I did!” he mewed. His mother was so embarrassing.
Mistpelt nodded. “He was a perfect apprentice.”
“Of course he was,” rumbled Oakstar, coming to join them. His dark brown fur gleamed in the sun, and his eyes were warm as he gazed at Pinepaw. “My son is going to be the finest warrior this Clan has ever known!”
Pinepaw straightened up. “I’ll try!” he promised.
“You must listen to everything Mistpelt tells you about training for battle. I want you to be ready to fight those mangy RiverClan cats!” Oakstar meowed. “They will not take another son from me!”
Pinepaw watched his father’s eyes cloud with sorrow. He had never known his half brother Birchface; he just knew that Birchface had died in a battle with RiverClan.
A cream-and-white she-cat joined them. “He might fight ShadowClan warriors before then,” she warned. “Those Twolegs will finish the tunnel soon, and ShadowClan will have direct access to our territory.”
Oakstar nodded. “You’re right, Doefeather, but I think they’ll turn back if we renew the scent markers there every day. Can you make sure the dawn patrols do that, please?”
Doefeather nodded. “Of course.”
There was a crackle of gorse and Flashpaw, Daisypaw, and Littlepaw burst into the camp, closely followed by their mentors.
“We just had a great battle practice!” Daisypaw mewed. Her gray-and-white fur was sticking up along her spine and there was a piece of bracken hanging from one ear.
Doefeather studied her. “You look as if you lost,” she pointed out.
“She did,” Daisypaw’s sister, Flashpaw, declared. “Littlepaw and me nearly squashed her!”
“Not necessarily a move to take into battle,” commented Littlepaw’s mentor, Squirrelwhisker. She nodded to Doefeather. “Your apprentice fought well, though. Very brave, even when the other two joined against her.”
Doefeather purred. “I’m glad to hear it. Thanks for taking her.”
Flashpaw’s mentor, Nettlebreeze, was drinking water from some soaked moss at the side of the clearing. Swallowing, he turned to Pinepaw. “How was your first walk around the territory?”
“Amazing!” Pinepaw mewed. “I saw a kittypet and some Twolegs!”
“Ooh, scary,” teased Daisypaw.
“He did very well,” Mistpelt meowed. “In fact, I think he can join your practice tomorrow to help Daisypaw out. What do you think, Squirrelwhisker?”
The brown tabby warrior dipped her head. “We’d be honored to have you with us, Pinepaw and Mistpelt.”
Pinepaw bounced on his toes. Being an apprentice was the best thing ever!
Crack! A twig snapped beneath Pinepaw’s foot and he stopped dead, holding his breath. Ahead of him, the blackbird was still pecking in the leaf mulch. He let out a sigh of relief. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Flashpaw mouth, Lucky! at him, and Pinepaw nodded. Just a few more steps and he’d be within pouncing range.
He had been an apprentice for almost one moon, and this was his fourth hunting patrol. He had caught something on every single patrol so far, and he wasn’t going to let that change now! He eased his weight onto his front paws and gathered his haunches beneath him in the hunter’s crouch.
“Sssshhhh!”
Pinepaw looked around. Who said that? Flashpaw had vanished and he seemed to be alone among the ferns.
“Get off my tail!” hissed a different voice. “Do you want to let the whole of ThunderClan know we’re here?”
Pinepaw froze. That wasn’t one of his Clanmates. Were they being invaded? He sniffed the air. This close to the Thunderpath, the scent of leaves and prey was mostly smothered by the stench of monsters, but today there was something else, the faintest hint of a cat scent that he hadn’t smelled before…
His pelt bristling along his spine, he prowled toward the bush where he had heard the voices. He had forgotten about the blackbird. It flew up with a squawk, and there was a flurry of movement among the brambles. Pinepaw glimpsed flashes of brown, gray, and orange fur, and the glint of unsheathed claws. He had lost his chance to creep up on them now.
“Intruders!” he yowled, spinning around and racing toward where he had left the rest of his patrol. “Come quick!”
Doefeather leaped out in front of him, her fur standing on end. A splash of blood on her muzzle showed she had just made a successful catch. “Where?” she demanded.
Pinepaw nodded over his shoulder. “In those brambles,” he panted.
“Wait here,” the deputy told him. She bounded toward the bush, letting out a screech. “ThunderClan warriors, to me!”
The undergrowth around Pinepaw came alive as Mistpelt, Squirrelwhisker, Daisypaw, and Littlepaw burst out. Mistpelt paused beside Pinepaw. “What’s going on?”
“We’re being invaded!” Pinepaw told her.
Squirrelwhisker sniffed the air and bared her teeth. “A ShadowClan patrol has come through that wretched tunnel! Come on, let’s chase them back where they came from!”
As she raced away with Littlepaw at her heels, Mistpelt mewed, “Pinepaw, go to the camp for more warriors!” Then she disappeared after her Clanmates.
Pinepaw was about to plunge into the bracken toward the camp when something struck him. He was sure he had only seen three or four cats among the brambles. That meant they were already outnumbered by the ThunderClan patrol. Rather than waste time by fetching more cats, why didn’t he join the others and give chase now, before the intruders got too far into the forest?
Whirling around, he set off after his mentor. A volley of yowls and hisses told him that the invaders had been confronted. Pinepaw launched himself through a dense thicket of elder and scrambled out on the other side. In a small clearing, the rest of his patrol faced four ShadowClan warriors. Their heads were lowered and their tails lashed from side to side. Pinepaw gaped at the moment, struck by how lean and strong the ShadowClan cats looked, how calm and ready for battle.
Then he looked at his own Clanmates, standing their ground with their fur bristling. He knew which side he wanted to fight on! He bounded over to stand beside Mistpelt, who hissed, “I told you to fetch help!”
“That would take too long. I can be of more use here!” Pinepaw whispered back. He sank his claws into the damp earth and ran through every battle move in his head.
Littlepaw touched him with the tip of his tail. “Fight alongside me,” he murmured. “We’ll cause more trouble if we stick together!”
Pinepaw nodded and shifted closer to the black-and-white tom.
“You want us to leave?” sneered one of the ShadowClan warriors, an orange-and-gray she-cat with mean amber eyes. “You’ll have to make us!”
“We will!” Doefeather retorted. She sprang at the intruder, clearing the gap with a single stride. At once the other ShadowClan cats rushed forward and the ThunderClan cats leaped to meet them.
Pinepaw and Littlepaw threw themselves at a light brown tom with a distinctive snaggletooth. Pinepaw clung onto the warrior’s neck while Littlepaw nipped his ears. The cat flung himself to the ground, dislodging Littlepaw, but Pinepaw held on, sinking his claws into the warrior’s fur. When the cat tried to roll over and crush him, Pinepaw sprang sideways, then jumped back onto the warrior’s shoulders as he scrambled to his paws.
“Nice move!” Littlepaw panted, ducking around to bite the ShadowClan cat’s tail. The warrior let out a yowl and staggered. Pinepaw took the opportunity to cuff his broad head, and the cat sank to his knees.