Rootpaw nodded gratefully. “I will,” he promised. “And thank you—both of you!”
“Off you go, then,” Leafstar meowed.
Rootpaw didn’t need telling twice. The words were hardly out of the Clan leader’s mouth before he raced across the camp, looking for Dewspring to ask permission.
Sunhigh was long past by the time Rootpaw headed toward the ThunderClan border. A small vole was dangling from his mouth. Its enticing scent and taste flooded his jaws, and with every paw step it became harder to resist. It was all Rootpaw could do not to stop and devour the vole himself.
I’m sure Bristlepaw will be pleased that I’m being so thoughtful, he told himself.
Dewspring and Sunnypelt padded along beside Rootpaw. Though his mentor had given him permission, he had insisted on coming with him, and had asked the young ginger she-cat to come too. Rootpaw had protested, but Dewspring had refused to listen.
“You must be totally mouse-brained if you think I’m going to let an apprentice visit a rival Clan’s territory on his own,” he had meowed.
Now Rootpaw just hoped that he’d still get to have a private chat with Bristlepaw. There were things he wanted to say to her, but not in front of his mentor.
“I think this is weird,” Sunnypelt remarked as they drew closer to the ThunderClan border. “Prey is so scarce right now, and here we are giving it away to another Clan.”
Dewspring shrugged. “Leafstar approved it, and it’s good to see an apprentice thinking about something other than his own belly.”
But I am thinking about my own belly, Rootpaw thought ruefully. And if we don’t get to ThunderClan soon, I won’t be able to stop myself devouring this prey!
The pungent scent of the ThunderClan border markers cut through the scent of vole in Rootpaw’s jaws, warning him that they were approaching the boundary between the two Clans.
“We’ll stop here,” Dewspring meowed. “A ThunderClan patrol should come along soon.”
Rootpaw dropped his prey and sat down beside it in the shelter of a clump of bracken. Looking out into ThunderClan territory, he could see how heavily the snow had fallen outside the protection of the valley, covering the ground and weighing down the branches of the trees. He hadn’t been sitting for long before his paws and his hindquarters were freezing cold; he rose again and began to pace up and down in a futile effort to get warm.
To his relief, it wasn’t long before he heard rustling on the ThunderClan side of the border, and three ThunderClan warriors appeared from a copse of elder bushes. Rootpaw didn’t recognize any of them from his first Gathering a few nights before.
The cat in the lead, a cream-colored tom with a stumpy tail, stalked up to the border and stood nose to nose with Dewspring. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Greetings to you, too, Berrynose,” Dewspring responded. “We’ve come to—”
He broke off as a tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat bounded up to Berrynose’s side and thrust out her muzzle toward Rootpaw’s vole. “Look!” she exclaimed, her whiskers quivering with outrage. “Prey! Have you been hunting on ThunderClan territory?”
Dewspring rolled his eyes. “Poppyfrost, have you got bees in your brain?” he asked. “Or do you think we’re mouse-brained? Given everything that’s happened lately, with so many cats hungry and desperate, do you really believe any warrior would be bold enough to start a quarrel over prey?”
“We have every right to be suspicious,” Poppyfrost began hotly. “Especially when—”
“No, it’s okay, honestly,” Rootpaw interrupted eagerly. “I caught the vole on SkyClan’s side of the border. I’m bringing it to Bristlepaw to say thank you for saving me when I fell in the lake.”
Berrynose and Poppyfrost exchanged a disapproving glance.
“Bristlepaw can catch her own prey, thank you very much,” Poppyfrost mewed, her voice as cold as the ice that covered the lake.
Berrynose shook out his long, creamy pelt, clearly insulted. “I don’t think this is a thank-you at all,” he snorted. “SkyClan is just rubbing our noses in it, that they have so much prey that they’re giving it away.”
The third member of the patrol, an older tabby tom, took a pace forward. “Let them come over,” he meowed, amusement glimmering in his amber eyes. “We shouldn’t discourage an apprentice from doing something generous.”
“Oh, Birchfall, you always think you know best,” Berrynose responded with a disdainful sniff. He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over the SkyClan cats. “Fine, you can come,” he snapped. “Follow us, and don’t put so much as a whisker out of line, or we’ll have some SkyClan fur to line our nests.”
Dewspring led the way across the border; Rootpaw and Sunnypelt joined him in a tight little group as they headed into ThunderClan territory. Berrynose took the lead with Birchfall bringing up the rear and Poppyfrost ranging to and fro on either side.
As soon as the SkyClan patrol emerged from the thorn tunnel into the ThunderClan camp, Rootpaw gazed around eagerly for Bristlepaw, but there was no sign of her. Dismay jolted through him from ears to tail-tip. I hope she’s not out on patrol.
His pelt tingled with nervousness when he saw that other ThunderClan cats had spotted them and were beginning to drift over in their direction, exchanging curious glances. Rootpaw realized for the first time that they might not be as friendly as they had been when he was sick and needed help. He was glad now that Dewspring had insisted on coming with him and bringing Sunnypelt.
“Poppyfrost, go find Bristlepaw,” Berrynose directed. “I’m going to report to Bramblestar.”
He bounded across the camp and began scrambling up a pile of tumbled rocks by the camp wall, leading to a ledge where Rootpaw knew the Clan leader had his den. Meanwhile Poppyfrost padded over to the apprentices’ den and stuck her head through the ferns. A moment later Bristlepaw emerged; Poppyfrost led her back to where the SkyClan cats were waiting.
Excitement rose inside Rootpaw as he saw the pale gray she-cat approaching. He remembered once again how angry she had been at the Gathering because she thought he was implying she couldn’t manage to feed herself. I need to be careful what I say.
Bristlepaw halted in front of Rootpaw. “Well?” she asked.
Rootpaw dropped the vole at her paws. “Bristlepaw,” he began, “I’ve brought you this vole to say thank you for saving me when I was drowning. You were so brave and helpful—and so was ThunderClan while I recovered here in your camp. I wanted to repay that debt by bringing you this prey.”
As he finished speaking, Rootpaw realized that he had sounded far too formal, as if he had been making an announcement at a Gathering. I meant to sound friendly, and I completely messed up!
Even worse, he saw that Bristlepaw looked embarrassed. She would not meet his gaze as she licked furiously at her chest fur. “There’s no need,” she mewed. “It’s nice of you, but I can’t—”
She broke off at a tiny sound from the ThunderClan cats who surrounded the group. She glanced around at her Clanmates. They were all eyeing the vole hungrily, as if every cat wanted to snatch it up and devour it.
“Thank you, Rootpaw,” she began again. “I can catch my own prey, but the ThunderClan elders will be grateful to share this vole. It’s a really good one.”
Rootpaw struggled again with feelings of dismay. He had wanted Bristlepaw herself to eat his vole. But he could see that her pride wouldn’t let her do that. He dipped his head. “Thank you, Bristlepaw,” he meowed. “I’ll never forget what you did for me.”
He never knew if Bristlepaw would have replied, because at that moment Bramblestar came shouldering through the crowd, followed by Berrynose. “Greetings,” he meowed to the SkyClan cats. “Welcome to our camp. Rootpaw, that was a kind thought, to bring prey for Bristlepaw.”