But Spottedleaf did not answer. The wind dropped and she faded into shadow.
“You’re cheerful today,” Cinderpelt mewed. She looked up at Leafpaw, who was sitting beside her, washing in the early morning light that shone through the waterfall.
Leafpaw stopped washing. “I had a dream,” she confessed.
Cinderpelt sat up. “Did StarClan speak to you?”
Leafpaw blinked. Would Cinderpelt be offended that Star Clan had chosen an apprentice for their message, and not ThunderClan’s medicine cat? “I’m sorry,” she began.
“Perhaps they came when I was sleeping and you were awake, and that’s why they chose me—”
Cinderpelt cut her off with the gentlest touch of her tail on Leafpaw’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Leafpaw,” she mewed. “I’ve always known that you have a bond with StarClan that is stronger than anything I’ve seen before. It’s a great responsibility, and I’m very proud of how you cope with it.”
Leafpaw gazed at her, searching for words to express her relief and gratitude.
“What was the dream?” Cinderpelt prompted.
“It was very faint,” Leafpaw warned her. “But I know for certain that StarClan is still watching us, and I believe they will be with us wherever we are going.”
Firestar padded over, his fiery coat glowing almost white in the watery light.
“Are we leaving?” Cinderpelt asked.
Firestar shook his head. “It snowed all night, and Stoneteller says there’s more on the way. The Tribe is organizing a hunt so we’ll have enough fresh-kill to last out the bad weather.”
“Does that mean we’re stuck here?” Leafpaw mewed in alarm.
“For now.” Firestar watched Blackstar pacing back and forth in front of the cave entrance. “We’ll leave as soon as we can.”
“Leafpaw!” Sorreltail bounded over. “Do you want to come hunting with some of the Tribe?” She glanced at Firestar. “If that’s okay?”
Firestar turned to Cinderpelt. “Can you spare her?”
“Yes, of course,” Cinderpelt answered.
“Thanks,” Leafpaw mewed. After living in the forest it felt strange to be cooped up in the gloomy cave, and despite the cold she welcomed the feeling of fresh air in her fur.
She followed Sorreltail over to Talon and Crag. Brook was with them, with Stormfur at her side. Leafpaw was startled to see how different Stormfur looked. His fur was streaked with mud, just like the Tribe cats’, and there was a toughness in his muscles that made him look more like a member of the Tribe than the skinny Clan cats.
“I hope they’re not going to slow us down,” Crag muttered to Brook and Talon. “We’ve got too many mouths to feed.”
“Of course they won’t slow us down,” Brook mewed.
“Stormfur was becoming a good prey-hunter by the time he left.”
“I suppose he wasn’t bad,” Crag conceded. He glanced at Leafpaw. “You’re an apprentice, right? What are you hoping to be? A prey-hunter or a cave-guard?”
Leafpaw stared at him, not understanding.
“The Tribe divides its duties,” Stormfur explained. “The cave-guards protect the Tribe; the prey-hunters feed them.
Brook is a prey-hunter and Crag is a cave-guard.”
“Then why are you coming hunting?” Leafpaw asked Crag hesitantly.
Crag let out an unexpected purr of amusement. “Who’s going to watch the skies while you’ve got your eye on the prey?” he asked, and Leafpaw remembered with a shudder the eagle that had attacked the Clan. She felt a prickle of resentment at Crag’s superior attitude, but resisted the urge to tell him she was an apprentice medicine cat; to a Tribe cat, that might sound as if she were claiming to be a leader.
“In the forest we could scent for danger and hunt at the same time,” Sorreltail mewed.
“Really? Well, how do you scent an eagle flying a mountain’s height above your head?” Crag retorted.
“Come on,” Brook meowed impatiently. “We’re wasting time.”
She led the way out from behind the waterfall and along a ledge that led them up among the peaks. The blizzard had died away, but the thick snow soon froze Leafpaw’s feet. The air was so cold, it almost hurt to breathe, and her eyes started to stream as soon as they left the warmth of the cave. But there was no way she was going to complain; she wanted to prove to Crag that forest cats could handle anything the mountain cats could. She stifled a shiver and glanced up.
Heavy yellow clouds nested on the mountaintops, promising more snow.
As they neared a stunted thornbush, its branches weighed down with fresh snow, Brook stopped and crouched low. Crag and Stormfur flanked her, ducking down as well. Leafpaw copied them, pressing her belly flat against the snow beside Sorreltail. Brook stared at the bush, her nose twitching as though she scented prey.
Leafpaw sniffed. The smell of rabbit wafted past her on the breeze. Instinctively she started to creep forward.
“Stop!” Stormfur warned her with a hiss. “Wait and watch how Brook does it.”
Brook was as still as ice, only the faintest lift of her mud-streaked flank showing that she wasn’t a rock embedded in the snow. Just when Leafpaw began to think she would turn into an icicle if she stayed still any longer, a young rabbit hopped from under the bush, testing the air with its quivering nose.
It hopped closer, not seeing the cats flat against the snow.
Leafpaw opened her mouth. The prey-scent was still strong near the bush, which was odd if the rabbit had come out into the open. Perhaps the rabbit had been sheltering there for a long time. Suddenly Brook shot forward and lunged at the rabbit. She caught it in her jaws and killed it with merciful speed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Leafpaw noticed the bush tremble. She darted forward just as a second rabbit fled across the snow. It raced toward a rocky outcrop, but Leafpaw was fast—and hungry—and caught it before it could escape.
“Well spotted!” Brook congratulated her with a warm purr.
“I could smell two scents,” Leafpaw panted.
Crag stared at her in surprise. “You smelled both rabbits at the same time?”
“We’re used to the forest with all its plants and prey,” she mewed, trying to explain. “The air up here is clearer; the scents are not so cluttered. It’s easy to spot different smells.”
Sorreltail blinked proudly at her, and Stormfur gave a small nod. Crag dipped his head in respect and, picking up one of the rabbits, led the way back to the waterfall.
Leafpaw sat near the entrance of the cave, warmed by the soft breathing of the cats around her. Dustpelt lay beside Onewhisker and Tallstar. Spiderpaw stretched out beside Crowpaw. Tallpoppy and Ferncloud shared tongues while their kits played together. Even Hawkfrost looked relaxed as he watched Mothwing grooming Morningflower’s pelt for fleas. In spite of the peaceful scene, Leafpaw felt a tremor of concern. She had never seen the Clans so comfortable around each other before, not even at Gatherings. StarClan may be waiting for them, but would there still be four Clans by the time they reached their new home?
She stared through the sheet of thundering water and saw the full moon trembling above the peaks. None of the Clan cats had mentioned that it was a full moon, and time for a Gathering. There was no need. Suddenly she heard rasping breath by her ear, and she turned to see Stoneteller looking down at her.
“You are watching the moon for signs?” he meowed.
“I was thinking of the Gatherings,” Leafpaw mewed.
“Gatherings?” Stoneteller looked puzzled.
“In the time before we left, the four Clans would meet in peace only at full moon.”
“Clans did not live in harmony?”
“Not always,” Leafpaw admitted. “Unlike you, we had clear boundaries between our hunting territories.”
Stoneteller glanced around. “Trouble has brought you together,” he observed.