“I’m from ThunderClan,” he replied, choking back his uneasiness. “I’ve been sent to find the cats of SkyClan.”
“Why?” Darktail asked.
Alderpaw wasn’t sure how to answer that. I thought we’d find out more when we arrived.
“Every Clan’s survival depends on us all working together,” he mewed uncertainly, and was relieved to see Cherryfall and Molewhisker dipping their heads in assent.
Darktail narrowed his eyes. “Are you asking me and my cats to go with you to this… ThunderClan?”
Feeling like a kit before its eyes opened, groping around in the dark, Alderpaw nodded.
But he still didn’t know whether SkyClan was really was what StarClan meant for them to “embrace.” If I convince them to journey back with us to the lake, what will Bramblestar think? How would we cope with all these extra cats?
“Do you need our help?” Darktail pressed him.
“No!” Alderpaw blurted. “We’re not asking for help with a fight or anything. The Clans are all settled in their own territories, and there aren’t many disagreements, because there’s plenty of prey for every cat.” Do you need our help? he added silently to himself. Or have I completely misunderstood my vision? Oh, Sandstorm, I wish you were here to help me figure this out!
Darktail seemed to think for a moment, then inclined his head politely to Alderpaw.
“I’m impressed,” he purred. “I appreciate that you have made a long journey to find SkyClan.
But I hope you understand, we can’t just abandon our territory at the urging of strangers.”
Alderpaw felt some of his tension ease. At least Darktail sounds reasonable. But he hadn’t expected the meeting with SkyClan to go this way at all, and part of him would have liked to leave and pretend that none of this had ever happened. These cats didn’t seem to be in any need of help.
Then he remembered his vision, especially his dream of the cats shrieking in anguish on the bleak moor. I can’t just turn around and go home, he thought, wishing once again that Sandstorm were with him.
“Why don’t we stick around for a bit?” It was Needlepaw who spoke, her head and tail raised fearlessly as she addressed Darktail. “We could join in with some hunts and patrols. It wouldn’t take long for you SkyClan cats to see that we can be trusted.”
Alderpaw wasn’t sure whether he liked that suggestion or not. But he couldn’t think of a better idea, so he supposed he would have to go along with it.
Darktail remained quiet for a moment, his blue gaze resting on each cat for a heartbeat before returning to Alderpaw. “Very well,” he meowed at last. “Rain, show our guests where they can sleep. And yes,” he added to Alderpaw, “there’s probably quite a bit that we can learn from one another.”
Alderpaw nodded in reluctant agreement, though his pelt still prickled and a shiver ran through him from ears to tail-tip. Why does this feel so wrong?
The sun was warm on Alderpaw’s pelt as he bent his head to lap from the stream. Gazing down into the water, he wished he could wash his paws, but he knew that would only make it easier for dust and grit to stick to them.
How can the SkyClan cats bear to live in such a filthy place? he asked himself. Maybe if they do return with us to the forest, the ways of the other Clans will rub off on them.
The evening before, when Rain had taken him and his friends to a den—a bare cave in the side of the gorge with nothing on the floor but sand—Alderpaw had settled to sleep in the hope that StarClan would send another vision to guide him. But now he couldn’t even remember whether he had dreamed at all.
A pang of homesickness pierced him, sharp as a thorn, and he longed to feel cool grass beneath his pads, and to hear the gentle rustling of leaves as branches swayed above his head. I hope SkyClan will decide to come with us, just so we can head home soon. My Clan doesn’t even know that Sandstorm is dead.
Grief tugged at Alderpaw’s belly as he remembered the wise old she-cat. She would have known what to do, and helped him figure out why none of the cats here looked like the cats from his vision. She would have worked out why they didn’t seem to be looking for help.
Is my timing wrong? Was I dreaming of past SkyClan cats?
A yowl from a little way downstream distracted Alderpaw from his thoughts. Turning, he spotted Needlepaw, who was perched on a boulder a few tail-lengths away.
“The hunters are back!” she announced.
“And they’re bringing prey.”
Alderpaw left the waterside and bounded back to the center of the camp to meet the hunting patrols. His belly rumbled when he saw the quantities of prey that lay around Darktail as if presented for his approval. The hunters stood around the prey in a wide half circle, with Rain closest to their leader.
The rest of the questing cats clustered around Alderpaw and watched as Darktail chose a plump pigeon and tore mouthfuls of flesh from it. Then the SkyClan leader nodded to Rain, who stepped forward and chose a squirrel for himself.
“This is weird,” Sparkpaw muttered into
Alderpaw’s ear. “Where’s their fresh-kill pile?
Who takes food to the elders and the nursing queens?”
Before Alderpaw could even try to answer her question, Rain stepped back with the squirrel in his jaws. As if at a signal, the hunters closed in, butting heads and hissing as they tried to grab the juiciest pieces of fresh-kill.
At the edges of the circle Alderpaw spotted two or three skinny elders, who tried to join in the fight for food, only to be shoved back by the stronger cats, who crouched over their prey, glaring around as they ripped flesh from the bones. A she-cat, with three tiny kits mewling around her, darted in and grabbed a vole, but a huge tabby tom tore it out of her jaws and thrust her away with a powerful stroke of his hind legs.
The questing cats shared glances of horror and confusion. “What do they think they’re doing?” Cherryfall breathed out.
Beside Alderpaw, Needlepaw shrugged.
“Maybe they’ve never been taught the warrior code.”
“I’m surprised you’ve even heard of it,” Sparkpaw muttered.
Needlepaw gave her a sly, sideways glance.
“Just because I don’t always follow stupid rules doesn’t mean I don’t know they exist,” she retorted.
Then without hesitation she dived into the midst of the chaos of butting heads and swiping claws, easily batting two or three of the younger cats aside. Heartbeats later she emerged from the skirmish with a mouse, and crouched down in the shade of a rock to gulp it down.
Alderpaw spotted Darktail strolling back to the pile of rocks, with a casual glance over his shoulder at the fighting cats. He curled up beneath an overhang and watched the scene with slitted eyes.
Alderpaw’s belly was growling, but he couldn’t bring himself to join in the melee. I’m not going to battle elders or kits for food!
Beside him he heard Sparkpaw stifling a growl. “This isn’t fair,” she murmured. “Some of these SkyClan cats must go hungry day after day. That’s why so many of them look thin and ragged.”
As she finished speaking, she bounded forward, skirting the scrimmage, and marched boldly up to Darktail.
“Sparkpaw, no!” Alderpaw exclaimed, hurrying after her. To his relief he realized that Molewhisker and Cherryfall were following too.
“Why do you eat like this?” Sparkpaw piped up in a challenging tone as she planted herself in front of Darktail.
Alderpaw wasn’t sure whether to be impressed by her courage or embarrassed by her manners. We are SkyClan’s guests, after all.