Shivering Rose gave a sharp yowl of disbelief, and Thunderstar settled down on his haunches and tried to listen patiently. But as Thistle and Clover each started to argue that their mistake had been the other’s fault, Thunderstar’s mind wandered.
He was glad to see peace between the five Clans at last. There were no more pitched battles in the forest, no more bristling and insults at the borders. No vicious rogues had bothered them for moons, and the Clans were respected by nearby loners. Prey was running well, and no fires, floods, or harsh storms had broken the forest’s peace for a long time.
It was everything Thunderstar had ever wanted for his Clan. They were safe; they were thriving.
And yet…
He could remember the thrill of crouching by Gray Wing’s side, making a battle plan. Of charging into a fight side by side with Lightning Tail. Of all the times when a hunt or a journey had desperately mattered, because it meant life or death.
He didn’t miss it, of course he didn’t, Thunderstar thought, ruffling his fur. It was just that, in his memory at least, there hadn’t been this constant low-key squabbling all the time. The things they had cared about then—scarce prey and battles and making a home for themselves—had been the big things. The important things.
“At least I’m faster than a tortoise!” Clover snarled indignantly at her brother, and Thunderstar guiltily snapped back to attention.
Thistle sniffed. “But your nose might as well be on your haunches for all the good it did while we were looking for Cloud Spots’s beech leaves.”
Shivering Rose draped her tail across her eyes, groaning dramatically. “Dock leaves! Cloud Spots told you to get dock leaves! You mouse-brain!”
Clover bristled, angrily digging her claws into the earth beneath her paws. “Don’t talk to my brother like that!”
Thunderstar stood up, and Shivering Rose bit back her reply and looked up at him expectantly.
“Stop, all of you,” he said. “Clover and Thistle, apologize to Cloud Spots and Shivering Rose for bringing back the wrong leaves.” He turned to the medicine cat apprentice. “Shivering Rose, go into the forest tomorrow with Clover and Thistle and teach them what dock leaves look like, and what they smell like, so next time they’ll get it right.”
All three cats opened their mouths to reply, but Thunderstar silenced them with a weary look. “And stop fighting. You’re Clanmates, not a litter of kits. Respect each other.” The young cats hesitated, then nodded, murmuring agreement.
Thunderstar headed for his den again, only to be brought up short by more angry yowls.
“Prey should go on the prey pile!” Pink Eyes was lashing his tail, glaring at Leaf. “You can’t just hunt for your mate, even if she has new kits! Part of being a Clan cat is taking care of every cat, not only your kin.”
“I wasn’t on a hunting patrol! I just knew Milkweed needed something extra to keep her strength up,” Leaf hissed back, his amber eyes angry.
“Milkweed and the new kits are all you think of these days. You have a responsibility to feed the whole Clan!” Pink Eyes spat.
“You’re one to talk about feeding the Clan,” Leaf mewed sarcastically. “Even if you could see the prey, you’d be out of breath in half a rabbit chase.”
Pink Eyes jerked back, looking hurt, and Thunderstar stepped between the two angry toms. “Leaf, that’s not fair. Pink Eyes might not be able to hunt anymore, but you know he’ll be looking after your kits as soon as they’re big enough to come out of the nursery. And Pink Eyes, leave Leaf alone. If he’s not hunting enough for the Clan, Lightning Tail and I will send him out on more patrols.” Both cats looked rebellious, and Thunderstar twitched his tail with irritation. “You’re both too old to squabble like this. No wonder the younger cats are acting the same way! Set a better example. If you keep fighting, I’ll ask Cloud Spots to have you both pick ticks off Gooseberry—she got some on her pelt when she went out to the moor.”
Leaf and Pink Eyes dipped their heads submissively as Thunderstar walked away. It had been a long day, and he just wanted to curl up around his mate. Did his Clanmates have to bother him with every little dispute? Thunderstar sighed and stretched. I guess that’s what being a leader means, he supposed.
Finally, he reached his den in the Highrock, pushing through the lichen that hung over the entrance. But the cave was dark and deserted, and Thunderstar felt a pang of disappointment. He came back to the entrance and looked around the clearing, searching for Violet Dawn.
Morning Fire and Hazel Burrow were play-fighting in the center of the clearing. Gooseberry and Yew Tail were sharing a vole near the warriors’ den, and Owl Eyes had joined Lightning Tail in the ash tree. Shivering Rose and Blue Whisker were sharing tongues, while Pink Eyes had settled down to nap in the sunshine. Through the walls of the nursery thornbush, Thunderstar saw black-and-white fur: Leaf had gone to visit Milkweed and their new kits.
He finally glimpsed a familiar dark gray pelt in the fern tunnel that led to the recently built medicine cat’s den. Thunderstar twitched his ears thoughtfully. Why was Violet Dawn visiting Cloud Spots’s den? Is she sick? She seemed fine this morning.
He crossed the clearing again and ducked to fit himself through the tunnel of fragrant ferns. He found Violet Dawn and Cloud Spots in the den at the end of the tunnel, and both turned to look at him, startled.
“Hi,” Thunderstar said, suddenly feeling awkward. He shifted from one paw to another. “Everything okay?”
Cloud Spots glanced at Violet Dawn questioningly, and Thunderstar’s heart sped up. What did that look mean? Cloud Spots didn’t look upset, exactly… more like he knew something he didn’t want to say.
“I’ll leave you two alone for a moment,” the long-furred tom murmured. He slipped past Thunderstar, but Thunderstar didn’t watch him go. His attention was fixed on Violet Dawn.
“What is it?” Thunderstar asked, pressing himself against his mate’s side and inhaling her sweet scent. She was reassuringly sturdy against him, and she rubbed her cheek affectionately against his.
“It’s nothing bad,” she said softly, her amber eyes warm. “Quite the opposite, really.”
Thunderstar stared at her. Violet Dawn looked away shyly, but her tail stroked against his side. “Do you mean…”
Violet Dawn pressed closer to him. “I’m going to have kits.”
Thunderstar froze, his mind whirling. A warm glow sparked in his chest, spreading through his whole body.
He was going to be a father.
That night, Thunderstar couldn’t sleep.
Violet Dawn was curled against him, breathing slowly and steadily. Her tail twitched slightly as she dreamed. Thunderstar buried his nose in her fur and shut his eyes, then opened them again and flexed his claws irritably. Rolling onto his back, he stared at the rock ceiling above him. Finally, he got to his paws and padded out into the clearing. Maybe if he went for a walk, it would be easier to sleep when he returned.
The camp was quiet. He could hear Pink Eyes’s snoring, but no other cat was stirring. Thunderstar slipped across the clearing, his pelt prickling in the cool new-leaf breeze. Lightning Tail was standing guard by the gorse tunnel, heavy-eyed and sleepy-looking, and he flicked his tail in greeting as Thunderstar approached.
“You’re up late,” he meowed. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t sleep.”
Lightning Tail cocked his head curiously. Thunderstar sighed. “Violet Dawn is going to have kits.”
Lightning Tail’s eyes lit up. “That’s amazing! Congratulations!” Then he looked at Thunderstar more closely. “You’re not excited?”