She was heartened that he hadn’t done more than send the Sisters back to their camp. He clearly wasn’t prepared to push them farther away. Not yet, at least. Squirrelflight fluffed out her fur. He’d behaved with similar restraint in their relationship. Bramblestar kept his distance, eating and hunting with others, only speaking to her about Clan business, but he hadn’t asked her to leave his den. They both slept there each night, in separate nests, sharing the silence.
Watching Sparkpelt’s belly swell and her pelt grow glossier had sharpened Squirrelflight’s grief at not having her own kits. The hope that she might have another litter with Bramblestar seemed to grow more remote with each passing day.
Sunlight bathed her face, jerking her from her gloomy thoughts. She and Ivypool had reached the edge of the forest. Twigbranch and Finleap were already crossing the stream.
Ivypool opened her mouth to let air bathe her tongue. The silver tabby’s eyes brightened. “I smell rabbit.” She hurried after Twigbranch and Finleap.
Squirrelflight followed, jumping from stone to stone across the stream and landing lightly on the far bank. WindClan scents rolled from the high moor as a warm wind ruffled her pelt. Ahead, Finleap dropped into a hunting crouch. Twigbranch and Ivypool froze. Heart quickening, Squirrelflight followed her Clanmates’ gaze. Brown fur flashed between the heather bushes. The rabbit!
She held her breath as Finleap’s stumpy tail swished eagerly over the earth. The heather quivered. Finleap shot forward. As he plunged through the bushes, Twigbranch and Ivypool dived after him. Squirrelflight darted through a gap in the heather. Branches scraped her pelt. Bushes crowded on either side, blocking her view, but she could hear paws thrumming and smell the rabbit’s acrid fear-scent. Zigzagging between the stems, she tracked the patrol, breathing fast as she glimpsed Ivypool’s silver tail-tip flashing. She chased after it, excitement sparking through her pelt.
A moment later, she slammed into Ivypool’s hindquarters. The silver tabby had stopped without warning. Surprised, Squirrelflight fought to keep her balance as she stumbled to a halt. “What’s wrong?”
Ivypool was staring through the heather, her pelt bristling. “Look.”
Twigbranch and Finleap were backing toward her. Her pelt bristled with alarm as she smelled WindClan scent. Breezepelt. The black warrior was advancing on the ThunderClan patrol. His eyes were narrowed to hostile slits as he pushed through the heather.
Squirrelflight straightened and met his gaze as Ivypool, Twigbranch, and Finleap pressed around her. “What are you doing here?”
Breezepelt glared at her without answering.
Doubt tugged at Squirrelflight’s belly. This was still ThunderClan land, wasn’t it? For a moment, Squirrelflight wondered if they’d crossed the border by accident. She glanced around, her view blocked by the heather, then pushed her way out and padded onto the grass. The line of gorse that marked the border was a tree-length away. They were still inside ThunderClan territory.
Ivypool, Twigbranch, and Finleap followed her out, looking confused.
Ivypool eyed Breezepelt angrily as he slid from the heather. “What in StarClan do you think you’re doing?” she snarled at him.
Finleap’s hackles lifted. “You scared off our prey!”
“Your prey?” Breezepelt growled scornfully.
“Yes!” Finleap took a step closer to the WindClan warrior, unsheathing his claws.
Squirrelflight glimpsed pelts moving through the stretch of heather. Hootwhisker, Nightcloud, and Sedgewhisker were heading toward them. “Wait, Finleap,” she warned.
Finleap lashed his tail. “But he scared off our prey.”
“I don’t want to start a fight.” Squirrelflight shifted her paws uneasily as the other WindClan warriors neared. “I want to know what WindClan’s warriors are doing here.” As Finleap backed toward her, she caught Breezepelt’s eye. “This isn’t your territory,” she told the black tom. “Why have you disturbed our hunt?”
Breezepelt met her gaze, his eyes flashing dangerously. “This land is wasted on ThunderClan,” he growled. “You said so yourself at the Gathering.”
Squirrelflight bristled. “That was an informal gathering between leaders and deputies. We never formally agreed to change the borders.”
“And yet you said it,” Breezepelt pressed.
“Harestar said the land was wasted on ThunderClan,” she corrected him.
“But you agreed.” Breezepelt stood motionless as his Clanmates reached him and fanned out on either side, their hostile gazes fixed on the ThunderClan warriors.
Squirrelflight’s ears twitched nervously. He was using her words against her. Harestar must have put him up to it. The black warrior hadn’t been at that gathering. None of the warriors had. Only leaders and deputies. “I said we hadn’t been using the moorland as much as we could,” she growled. “But we’re using it now.”
Hootwhisker nodded toward the forest. “Why not hunt in the woods? It’s what you’re used to, and there’s enough prey for you there.”
Nightcloud’s gaze flicked over the ThunderClan patrol. “You certainly don’t look hungry.”
“Hunger has nothing to do with it!” Finleap flattened his ears. “This is our territory, and we can hunt here whenever we want.”
“You’re trespassing,” Ivypool snarled.
Squirrelflight kept her gaze on Breezepelt. “The leaders have agreed that the new borders will remain until SkyClan has made a decision. So I suggest you leave our land until our leaders agree to restore the old borders.” Her pelt pricked nervously. Were the WindClan warriors looking for a fight?
Breezepelt’s tail twitched. He leaned toward Nightcloud and whispered in her ear. The black she-cat looked at him, then jerked her muzzle toward Squirrelflight. “I suggest you discuss this with Bramblestar. He may have a clearer view on what is best for the Clans.”
The insult jabbed Squirrelflight’s belly like claws. “I will discuss this with Bramblestar,” she growled. “But he won’t allow borders to be ignored any more than I will. Without borders, there can be no unity among the Clans.” She stared deep into Breezepelt’s gaze, hoping he understood the implication. In crossing the ThunderClan border so blatantly, WindClan was disregarding StarClan’s command for peace.
Breezepelt held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. He signaled to his patrol with a flick of his tail. “Let’s head back to the high moor.”
Without a word, his Clanmates turned and headed into the heather, climbing the slope toward the border. A low growl rumbled in Ivypool’s throat. Twigbranch flexed her claws angrily. As the WindClan patrol crossed the line of gorse, Squirrelflight turned back toward camp. “We should go tell Bramblestar.”
Squirrelflight made the journey back in silence, unease rippling through her pelt. Behind her, Ivypool, Finleap, and Twigbranch muttered angrily to one another. As they reached camp, Squirrelflight ducked first through the thorn tunnel. Bramblestar was sitting on the Highledge. She beckoned him with a flick of her tail.
His eyes widened and he leaped down the rock tumble and stopped as Ivypool, Finleap, and Twigbranch gathered around her. He searched Squirrelflight’s gaze, his ears pricking anxiously. “What’s happened?”
“WindClan,” Finleap answered first, his tail flicking angrily behind him. “They say our moorland belongs to them.”
Twigbranch growled.
Squirrelflight watched Bramblestar, looking for outrage to flare in his amber eyes. But he only blinked. “I will speak with Harestar. Today.” He nodded to Squirrelflight. “Will you come with me?”
Squirrelflight’s eyes widened as surprise sparked inside her. Was this how he was going to defend the borders he’d agreed to? “What are you going to say to him?”
Bramblestar lifted his chin. “I’m going to try to come to an agreement. If Harestar believes land is being wasted strongly enough to fight for it, then we need to listen to him.”