Sunstar entered the clearing at the head of a patrol. “Ah, good to see you back on your paws, Spottedpaw! We’ve missed you!”
Spottedpaw glowed with pleasure. Even the Clan leader wanted her to be training! “I’m feeling much better,” she mewed. “I’ll be able to go back to my duties tomorrow, I think.”
“Not so fast,” Sunstar purred. “Make sure you’re completely healed first.”
The rest of Sunstar’s patrol spilled through the gorse tunnel. Tigerpaw roared in at top speed, then skidded to a halt by the fresh-kill pile. “I’m starving!” he declared. “Chasing off those kittypets was hard work, I can tell you!”
“Really?” mewed Weedwhisker from his basking place outside the elders’ den. “A strong young apprentice like you, against some fat old kittypet?”
Tigerpaw puffed out his chest. “They were totally scared of me! You should have seen how fast they ran!”
A voice purred in Spottedpaw’s ear. “Tigerpaw didn’t look so brave when one of the kittypets stopped on top of the fence to hiss at him!”
Spottedpaw turned to see Thistleclaw standing beside her. His amber eyes were shining. “You must be feeling better,” he commented. “It’s great to see you again!”
“It’s great to see you, too,” Spottedpaw mewed, feeling hot to the tips of her ears. She wondered why Thistleclaw was looking at her so closely. Did she have moss on her muzzle?
“Can I eat now?” Tigerpaw demanded, bouncing on his toes beside the heap of prey. “Weedwhisker has already taken a shrew for himself and Mumblefoot, and Larksong doesn’t want anything. My belly is empty!”
Thistleclaw nodded. “Go on, then. Don’t fill yourself up too much, or you won’t be up to battle training after sunhigh.”
“I won’t,” Tigerpaw promised through a mouthful of squirrel.
Thistleclaw turned back to Spottedpaw. “What about you? Did you come out here to eat?”
Spottedpaw shook her head. “I wanted to test my leg. I think I’m ready to go back to training now.”
Thistleclaw’s eyes widened. “Wow, you really are determined, aren’t you?”
“Of course! I don’t want my littermates to be warriors before me!”
The gray-and-white warrior tilted his head on one side, studying her. “Would you like to go for a walk in the forest? If your leg feels okay, of course.”
“I’d love to,” Spottedpaw mewed. “But don’t you want to have something to eat first?”
Thistleclaw shook his head. “I’m not hungry. Come on, let’s go before Featherwhisker sends you back to your nest!”
With a mischievous purr, he led Spottedpaw through the gorse tunnel. He waited while she visited the dirtplace, then walked slowly beside her up the ravine, letting her rest on his shoulder for the steepest parts. His fur was warmed by the sun and his muscles felt strong and smooth beneath his skin. Spottedpaw could hardly breathe by the time they reached the top—and not just because she hadn’t been out of her nest for so long.
They stopped in the shade of some brambles so that Spottedpaw could catch her breath. Thistleclaw dipped his head toward her, concerned. “Are you sure you’re up to this? Featherwhisker will kill me if you come back in worse shape than before!”
Spottedpaw blinked. “I’m fine, honestly. It hardly hurts at all.” She gave her shoulder a fast lick to ease the tingling. “I don’t want to miss any more training,” she confessed. “I’m worried that Sunstar will give Thrushpelt another apprentice if I stay in the medicine den too long.”
“Sunstar wouldn’t do that,” Thistleclaw meowed. “Being a warrior is really important to you, isn’t it?”
Spottedpaw pushed past the brambles and started walking along the path that led to Snakerocks. She guessed that Featherwhisker would have gone the other way because marigold grew beside the river. She didn’t want the medicine cat to send her back to the camp.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she told Thistleclaw. “I want to be the best warrior ThunderClan has ever seen, then deputy and then Clan leader.”
Thistleclaw purred with amusement, and Spottedpaw winced. Did that make her sound like a silly kit with fluff in her ears?
“There’s nothing wrong with ambition,” Thistleclaw mewed. “We should all want to serve our Clan as best we can.”
They ducked under some bracken, and Spottedpaw noticed Thistleclaw flinch as the brittle fronds brushed his ear. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
Thistleclaw flicked the tip of his tail. “It’s nothing,” he mewed, but Spottedpaw reared up on her hind legs to take a closer look. She was suddenly aware of how close their muzzles were, and how their warm breath was mingling in the still, leaf-scented air. Thistleclaw’s ear had a long scratch running from base to tip, and his fur was sticky with dried blood.
“You’ve been clawed!” Spottedpaw gasped. “Was it one of the kittypets?”
“As if one of those mange-balls would get anywhere near me!” Thistleclaw scoffed. “I’m fine, forget about it.” He stepped away and Spottedpaw almost lost her balance.
“I could put some marigold on it, if you like,” she offered. “I’ve been helping Featherwhisker with his herbs, and I know how to use nearly all of them.”
She thought Thistleclaw would be impressed, but he curled his lip. “Only the weak get injured in battle,” he growled. “If you are strong enough and fast enough, the only blood shed will be the blood of your enemies!”
Spottedpaw blinked. “O-okay,” she stammered.
Thistleclaw turned and took a pace back to her. He rested his chin on top of her head and she heard him sigh. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was just thinking about a fight that I lost—the one that gave me this scratch, actually. I won’t be beaten next time, I promise!”
“I know you won’t,” Spottedpaw purred. She hardly dared to breathe because she didn’t want Thistleclaw to move. Standing here, in the glade beside Snakerocks, with the warrior’s scent wreathing around her and the pain in her shoulder little more than a dull ache, Spottedpaw thought she had never been happier. She could feel her heart pounding, and every blade of grass beneath her paws.
Nothing in the world will stop me from becoming a warrior alongside you, Thistleclaw, she thought.
Chapter Four
Spottedpaw wrapped the last shred of cobweb around the twig and stowed it neatly in the cleft in the rock beside the piles of herbs. “All done!” she declared. “Your store is much tidier now, Featherwhisker. Try not to mess it up again!”
The silver-gray tom flicked her playfully with his tail. “Perhaps you should stay here to keep me in order,” he suggested. “Goosefeather would be glad of the help!” He nodded to the elderly medicine cat, who was dozing in the sun.
Spottedpaw looked at Featherwhisker in alarm. “You don’t mean that, do you? You said my shoulder was healed enough to go back to training.”
Featherwhisker purred. “No, you’re fit to train. But I’ve enjoyed having you here, Spottedpaw. If you ever change your mind about becoming a warrior, I’d be honored to have you as my apprentice.”
“Never!” Spottedpaw meowed. The medicine cat blinked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. But I’m going to be a warrior.”
Featherwhisker nodded. “Well, good luck, and if you see any catmint while you’re on patrol, don’t forget to pick some. Our stores are very low.”
“Will do!” Spottedpaw trotted through the ferns, careful not to disturb Goosefeather, and emerged in the sun-dappled clearing. Thrushpelt was outside the warriors’ den, his back arched in a stretch. Spottedpaw bounded over to him. “Featherwhisker said I can start training again!”