The Secret Clan - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Vinepaw padded along dedicatedly beside Dandelionfur. The pregnant queen was exhausted, with good reason. It had been a quarter moon since the Clan started the journey. So far, it had been uneventful. Tuifeather had pointed them all in the right direction with various signs. Tuifeather is the best medicine cat ever, Vinepaw thought happily.

“Do you want to rest, Dandelionfur?” Vinepaw pressed her nose into the queen’s fur. But the white and gold queen flexed her shoulders and gritted her teeth. “Not a chance. I can make it till tonight.” Swiftstream, who was beside his mate, looked worried.

“Dandelionfur,” he whispered. “We both know that you can’t make this whole journey. Who knows how long it’s going to be? We need to find a way for it to be less exhausting for you to walk.” Swiftstream glanced up at Vinepaw. The medicine cat apprentice nodded. Swiftstream was her brother, from a different litter. Therefore, Dandelionfur’s kits would be her kin.

I won’t let anything happen to my kin.

“Tonight,” Swiftstream whispered to Vinepaw. “We’ll think of some ideas.” Vinepaw nodded boldly and kept walking.

Leaving Swiftstream to tend to Dandelionfur, with the request of getting her if something happens, Vinepaw went up to talk to Tuifeather about Dandelionfur.

“She’s so tired…” Vinepaw mewed. Tuifeather glanced across at her small apprentice. “Yes. But if she’s anything, she’s strong. And when her kits come,” Tuifeather nudged Vinepaw with her shoulder. “We’ll be ready.” The black and white she-cat concluded confidently. Vinepaw wished she could share her mentor’s sureness. Dandelionfur’s kits would be the first kits that Vinepaw would help give birth to, and she wanted the conditions to be right. But, with the Clan following a trail set by StarClan with no visible ending point, the medicine cats would have to make the best of the situation.

Suddenly a sharp smell struck Vinepaw’s nostrils. Cautiously, glancing around her, Vinepaw drew in the scent. It smelled of earth, blood and grass. A badger? Vinepaw started to trembled, drawing in hurried breaths. The smell was moving, shifting. Vinepaw swung her head around violently. In her wild daze she stopped walking. Tuifeather, her eyes alight with worry, signalled to the Clan to be silent. All that could be heard was a frightened whimper from one of the apprentices. Vinepaw paused. She knew what the sound was. Eyes glazing over, she mouthed one word to her mentor. Tuifeather’s eyes widened momentarily.

“Come out. We know you’re there.” She called. There was a hesitation and a howl from the wind.

Then, from behind a pile of rotten wood, padded two huge, lanky tom cats. The word Vinepaw had mouthed was ‘rogues’. One was a well muscled tortoiseshell. The other was a dark grey with a black stripe down his spine. They stood perfectly still, showing no signs of hostility apart from their flickering eyes. Vinepaw could see Duskflower advancing silently from the head of her group, bristling. Tuifeather intercepted, not even for a moment taking her eyes off the two foreign cats. Fallenstar held a stone face. “State your business,” he meowed.

The grey tom looked amused for a moment and took a small pace forward. “We should be asking you to state yours, strangecat.” Vinepaw could imagine this rogue being a snake – sly, sleek and sneaky. The tortoiseshell’s gaze flicked to each cat in the Clan individually. He held his gaze on one of the cats; Vinepaw couldn’t see who it was.

“You’re on our territory.” The grey tom said, eyes narrowing. The tortoiseshell rolled his eyes. “That is a lie, Night.”

“Well they didn’t know that, did they Dark?” the grey tom hissed, his cover of secrecy blown.

“Now that your charade has ended,” Duskflower said, in a tone slightly less menacing than usual. “Night and Dark, is it? Don’t try anything. You’re outnumbered,” she glared at the two toms, who were bickering quietly up until she spoke. Night shot his accomplice a look and Dark shrugged.

“We have left our initial territory due to the blackwater. You’ve heard of it, I assume?” Fallenstar nodded, seeing that ‘blackwater’ was their way of talking about the black liquid in the stream. Vinepaw studied the two cats with awe. They were large – larger than most of the Clan cats – and were undeniably handsome cats, despite Vinepaw being able to count each of their ribs. They’re starving, Vinepaw thought with horror. Though starving, they certainly weren’t weak. They had large claws and looked skilled.

“We are travelling to find a new home,” Dark said. “A home that is comfortable and prey-rich. We have found no such place to stay.” Tuifeather cocked her head to the side. “There are only two of you. Can’t you just keep travelling; you don’t have many mouths to feed.” She inquired quizzically.

Night and Dark exchanged a knowing look. Vinepaw nodded to herself. Before the first two cats came out, she knew there were more. From over the top, underneath and to either side of the pile of sticks, eight more cats flooded out and came to stand beside Night and Dark.

“Not as many mouths as you, perhaps,” Dark chuckled light-heartedly. “But there are a half a score of us. We have lost some cats on the way –” A blue-tabby she-cat hid her head. “But we are strong.”

Fallenstar bowed his head, eyes glittering with possibility. “My name is Fallenstar, leader of this Clan. We too are travelling because of the ‘blackwater’ poisoning the stream we relied on for water.”

“Greetings, Fallenstar.” The two toms murmured in unison. “Although we do not wish to harm any of your cats, we will not hesitate to attack if we feel threatened.” The rogue cats yowled triumphant agreement. Vinepaw was haunted by their fierce cries. Tuifeather laid a reassuring tail tip on her shoulder.

“Nor do we mean any harm,” Tuifeather meowed loudly. “Would you care to travel with us for a while? I’m sure our Clan would find it interesting to learn of your ways.”

Dark flexed his claws and raised his head. “How can we trust you?” he hissed.

Tuifeather surveyed her awe-struck Clan.

“I swear on my own life that our cats will not harm yours. If they do, feel free to attack. The same goes for us,” she swept her tail towards the Clan. “If you attack, we retaliate.”

Dark and Night held a hushed conference before turning and nodding. “Very well,” Night mewed. “We will go our separate ways at dawn.”

Dewfrost watched the foreign cats with amazement. They moved, looked and stood differently. As the two leaders of the rogues, Black and Night, conversed with Fallenstar, Duskflower and the medicine cats, the rest of the rogues reluctantly mingled among the warriors. Not many words were said; the rogues looked decidedly uncomfortable. She locked eyes briefly with a hefty brown tom. He narrowed his eyes, not sure whether to be friendly or hostile, then turned his gaze back to walking. Dewfrost twitched her lip. Suit yourself, and ran up to walk beside Lightfoot.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Dewfrost gasped to her sister. Lightfoot just batted an ear. “More weird than amazing, I think. For all we know it, these cats know no morals and hold nothing precious. We wouldn’t know if they suddenly ambushed us from the inside. Personally, I’m glad they’re leaving at dawn.” She huffed. Dewfrost let her tail drag. She, if not anyone else, was excited about these new cats – the Clan could learn so much! Leaving her sister to mope, Dewfrost boldly padded over to a thin grey she-cat.

“Greetings,” she began formally. “My name is Dewfrost and I am a warrior of this Cla–” The she-cat she was talking to stared at her with a look of amusement. “Don’t talk to me like you would talk to a dog. My group know of the warrior way. We are cats like you just with different beliefs, don’t tie your tongue just to introduce yourself!” she drawled. Dewfrost gaped. Don’t be stupid, Dewfrost. Talk normally.

“Hi,” she began, not knowing what to say. The grey she-cat touched Dewfrost’s shoulder with her tail. “I’m known to these cats as Sea. Nice to meet you, Dewfrost.” She blinked. Dewfrost felt a small bud of happiness inside her.

“So what’s it like in your group… your band?” Dewfrost asked. Sea nodded, thinking of what to say. She turned to the Clan cat. “In our group; we hunt. We hunt by ourselves and give the prey to another cat. It’s like unspoken generosity, to prove we’re loyal to each other. If there are newborns or ragtails, then the best hunters bring back more than one piece of prey.” Sea explained. Dewfrost thought for a moment before realising that newborn meant a kit, and ragtail meant elder.

“That’s a lovely way of life, Sea.” Dewfrost purred.

“We rarely have to fight,” she continued. “So naturally, only a few of us are good fighters. I myself am not very competent with fighting…” Sea mewed, slightly embarrassed to admit her weaknesses. “But Dark and Night are. The whole band looks up to them. I guess that’s why they lead our group.”

Dewfrost looked up, alarmed. “You have two leaders?”

“Yes,” Sea said curtly. “Separate leaders don’t carry the same weaknesses as when they lead together.”

She looks younger than me and is already more wise and insightful. Dewfrost was thoroughly intrigued by the band of rogues. The group and the Clan shared some likeliness, but the differences they had made it all the more interesting to talk about. Dewfrost peered around the group. “Who’s your medicine cat?” she asked. Sea jerked her fuzzy grey head back in surprise. “Medicine what?” she mewed.

Dewfrost stopped. “You do have a medicine cat, right? You know, to communicate with StarClan?” Sea looked at her as if she sprouted ears.

“Dewfrost, our groups have very different beliefs. We do not have a ‘medicine cat’ and I don’t know what StarClan is.” Dewfrost felt her heart plummet, like she was falling and couldn’t stop. Not believe in StarClan? She thought all cats knew what StarClan was! What happened to the cats that passed on in this group? How did they heal the sick and wounded?

“What happens to the cats that become sick or injured?” Dewfrost asked monotonously.

“If they do not get better, then they leave the group to die.” Sea replied, as if her response was normal. Dewfrost was shaking.

What kind of a group is this that neglects poorly cats and doesn’t believe in StarClan?

The Secret Clan - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Tuifeather walked in dedicated pace with Fallenstar, who padded determinedly. Most of the cats were silent, only broken by a seldom whisper or growl. For the umpteenth time that day, Tuifeather thought of the mysterious prophecy: Follow the river and you will meet fire, but beware of darkness. There were many holes and double meanings in the omen, and for once in her career as a medicine cat, Tuifeather wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing. What if I lead my Clan away unnecessarily? Are we right to leave? Tuifeather knew that if she was wrong about the prophecy, her Clanmates wouldn’t trust her any longer. Leaving their home was a big thing, even though it was provoked by such a big thing as contaminated water. Tuifeather glanced back anxiously at the Clan she was leading away. Lightfoot’s patrol looked jolly – Keapaw and Hollypaw were throwing the odd paw at each other playfully. Dewfrost and Lightfoot were talking in hushed voices with nostalgia on their faces. Tuifeather guessed they were talking about the old camp. The old camp, Tuifeather mused, taking in the name of what still seemed like their old home. Where would they live now? What would be at the end of this sickly river? Tuifeather shook her head and looked to Volewhisker’s patrol. Tulipaw was throwing herself around Beestripe, who had his chest puffed out and took long strides. Tulipaw cast quick glances over at Keapaw, seeing if he was looking. Tuifeather remembered being an apprentice with a crush on Riverfur. Then her mentor, Mintfur, had told her that medicine cats can’t take mates. She was so heart-broken… for a moon. Then she became enthralled in the world of medicine and forgot all about her little crush. Cuckoonose was talking – without taking breaths – to Cricketsong, who was looking entirely bored. Tuifeather, being an admitted gossip, knew all about the relationships in the Clan. Cricketsong and Yarrowleaf, for one. Yarrowleaf was entirely charming, a dedicated warrior and a popular young she-cat. Cricketsong, however, was crass, boring and uninterested. He didn’t deserve such a nice cat like Yarrowleaf. Tuifeather, being a medicine cat, knew about Yarrowleaf being unable to have kits. It’s a shame, Tuifeather thought absently. She’d be a good mother. Duskflower’s patrol, Tuifeather saw as she glanced over, was stiff and rigid with fear. Duskflower lead with a slightly menacing swagger and seemed completely confident. Her group of cats looked unsure and afraid. Tuifeather remembered when all the cats used to look the same – happy and carefree. This journey has, and will, change cats, Tuifeather thought knowingly.

“Fallenstar,” Tuifeather began. “How sure are you that we’re doing the right thing?” she mewed. The young black and white medicine cat, though senior enough to have an apprentice, was still unsure of where she put her paws. Her pale, tortoiseshell leader shot her a brief, unreadable look.

“How sure are you that we’re doing the right thing?” he countered.

“Very.” Tuifeather said immediately. She couldn’t let her own leader know how disconcerted she was.

“Then I’m very sure we’re doing the right thing,” Fallenstar mewed, with a deep resonance. “I believe in you, Tuifeather. I trust you. You’re the one cat I can turn to and trust to make decisions with. Know that.” Tuifeather’s belly knotted. He wouldn’t trust me if I lead his Clan to certain death!

The Clan came to an intersection of paths – one spiralling off left, the other going uphill. Tuifeather halted the Clan with her tail. No matter what, her Clan trusted and relied on her. She couldn’t fail. The Clan was hushed and peered around quietly, not knowing what to do. Tuifeather studied her surroundings, searching for signs of which way to go. Straight ahead, the path got dusty and baron. To the left, crickets chirped noisily and there were many puddles. Tuifeather flicked an ear and inspected one of the puddles. She stared in awe as she recognised the shape of the assorted puddles. They were in the shape of a giant pawprint!

Tuifeather jumped with excitement. Surely, this must be a sign from StarClan that the Clan are doing the right thing?

“This way!” she meowed to the Clan. It felt strange not calling them MeadowClan, but with no meadow to call their own, were they just a homeless Clan? Fallenstar ran up to walk by Tuifeather again. The groups, led by Lightfoot, Volewhisker and Duskflower made haste to catch up. Without turning around, Tuifeather could hear the exerted panting of Dandelionfur. The pregnant queen would not find this journey easy, but now Tuifeather was sure that she was leading the Clan the right way.

Thank you for having faith in me, StarClan.

Keapaw felt bouncy.

It had been one day since leaving the camp. Although some of the more elderly warriors were dragging their paws a bit, there was a type of electricity running through everyone. It was energy. The Clan was relishing in adventure, in not knowing; whereas in MeadowClan everything was set in stone.

It was a golden afternoon, much like the one when Fallenstar had announced they would leave. The place they were staying for the night was covered in gorse bushes and abandoned rabbit warrens. Surprisingly, it was busy with prey. Keapaw had caught a plump mouse, Yarrowleaf and Cricketsong had worked together to catch a pigeon that fed the two elders, and Starlingflight had caught the biggest weka many of the Clan had ever seen. Keapaw was listening half-heartedly to the black-and-white warrior boasting about her catch.

“It barely knew I was there!” Starlingflight mewed. “Mistpaw really helped me with this one,” she flicked her tail at her apprentice who had her chest fluffed out. “Mistpaw distracted the old bird by rustling around. When it was least expecting it…” Starlingflight’s voice dropped to a theatrical whisper. Beetlepaw and Tweetpaw leaned forward, eyes wide.

“Snatch!” Starlingflight’s paw shot forward in a mime of catching the weka. Her audience flinched. “It was a matter of seconds. Just speed and skill,” Starlingflight licked her paw modestly. Keapaw knew that wekas were extremely hard to catch, and most warriors couldn’t catch a full grown one. They were fierce and strong, wekas, and Starlingflight had caught a young adult. She’d be mouse-brained to go for a fully grown weka – that fight she wouldn’t win. Keapaw shuddered and took another bite of his mouse, feeble compared to the weka. Duskflower ignored the boastful warrior and congratulated Starlingflight’s apprentice.

“Very good job, Mistpaw.” Duskflower nodded. The fluffy grey apprentice purred loudly and blinked thankfully. Keapaw scuffed the grass with his paws. Duskflower never complimented him like that! Like a ghost, suddenly Lightfoot was at his shoulder. Her eyes were tired but excited. She crouched beside him.

“Starlingflight’s a very good hunter.” Keapaw commented.

“Yes,” Lightfoot agreed, tipping her head to the side. “But she’s very proud.” Keapaw nodded, not really understanding. Pride is a good thing, isn’t it? Keapaw thought.

“My hunting’s going well,” the tortoiseshell apprentice purposefully changed the topic, seeing an unreadable expression cross Lightfoot’s face. Then her face seemed to pop back into normality; back into cheerful old Lightfoot.

“It is, is it?” she purred.

“Yes! When I was hunting with Cuckoonose, I caught a thrush all by myself. I gave it to Fallenstar and he said –” Lightfoot tensed and she stared at Keapaw.

“When did you go hunting with Cuckoonose?” she mewed.

“A few days before we left, when you went on the sunhigh patrol.” Keapaw spluttered. What’s wrong with hunting with another warrior when your mentor’s away? Lightfoot’s neck fur bristled. “I suppose she said I had sent her?”

Keapaw nodded. Lightfoot exploded, tearing up the grass.

“When a lazy warrior has an apprentice, it turns out a lazy apprentice!” she hissed furiously. “Cricketsong. Cricketsong was Cuckoonose’s first apprentice. The whole Clan can see that he is not bothered with anything, just like his old mentor! I do not want her training you again, okay Keapaw? She’s a liar and a cheat!” Keapaw felt his mouth begin to slide open and shut it quickly. What had occurred between Lightfoot and Cuckoonose? Before he could ask – which was decidedly unwise – Dewfrost raced up to her sister. “Lightfoot, come eat with us! Your pelt is horribly dirty!” Dewfrost purred. Lightfoot was transformed again, and the two sisters padded away, tails in the air. Keapaw felt like he was surrounded by secrets. The animosity between Cuckoonose and Lightfoot, the distance between Cricketsong and Yarrowleaf, where Duskflower’s mate was. All the secrets were suddenly swirling around him with foreign tongues, whispering to him. You need not know! and If you want to know then chase us!

“Got ants in your pelt?”

That wasn’t a voice inside his head. Keapaw spun around, ears burning with embarrassment to see Hollypaw. Her pelt looked freshly groomed. Her eyes were as warm and mellow as the morning light. Keapaw was frozen.

“Keapaw?” she cocked her head to the side and nudged him with a tentative paw.

“Hi, Hollypaw.” Keapaw managed to meow. Hollypaw took the liberty of curling up next to the tortoiseshell apprentice. She yawned and wriggled around. “I should feel tired,” she murmured, eyes transfixed on the horizon. “But, I don’t. I feel great.” She cast her gaze over at Keapaw.

“I barely miss the old camp.” He agreed. Hollypaw nodded slowly and flexed her paws. “I’m just looking forward to a new tomorrow. I barely had enough time to get attached to MeadowClan. Now I can be anything. We can be anything.” Keapaw stared at Hollypaw. Did she mean ‘we’ as the Clan, or him and her?

“I better get some rest now,” Hollypaw sighed. Keapaw stretched his legs and stood up. “I might go share tongues with the rest of the Clan. See you later –” Just as Keapaw started to walk away, he felt a tugging at his paws. Some part of him wanted to stay by Hollypaw. Suddenly he was crouching next to her, eyelids drooping. Keapaw barely had time to think about why he had returned before sleep enveloped him like a starry cloak.

Keapaw awoke, cold. The light of day had not yet reached the small clearing where they slept, blocked by a hill. Hollypaw was gone. Seeing Keapaw had risen, Tweetpaw came bundling over, green eyes shining amongst a thick cover of sleek, black fur. “Keapaw! We’re going to do battle training today.” He mewed excitedly. Keapaw blinked in surprise. “Battle training? I thought we’d be travelling.”

“Well, Tuifeather reasons that she needs time to interpret the signs around us. Decide where we’re going, you know.” Tweetpaw seemed jumpy and hasty. Keapaw groaned and nodded. He followed the young apprentice out of the temporary camp. Tweetpaw kept checking back over his shoulder and getting bursts of random speed. Keapaw kept at a steady speed and gradually caught up to Tweetpaw, who stopped at a shallow, grassy dip sheltered by a large lemonwood tree. Cricketsong and Lightfoot were sitting at the base of the tree, their pale pelts dappled as the sunlight groped through the gaps in the trees.

“Tweetpaw, this is your first session of battle practice.” Cricketsong meowed monotonously. His black apprentice was quivering with excitement. Tweetpaw’s tail had a mind of its own.

“Keapaw, as one of the older apprentices I want you to be patient. Claws sheathed, but do not go easy on Tweetpaw.” Cricketsong continued. Lightfoot halted the young warrior’s lecture with her tail. “Tweetpaw,” Lightfoot began brightly. “Can you stand by that blackberry bush? Thank you.” Keapaw watched Lightfoot closely. She was a ghost of the angry side he had seen last night. I guess Cuckoonose and Lightfoot are standing on an argument they had, Keapaw concluded.

“Keapaw?” Lightfoot’s mew startled him. “Over by the fallen log, please?” Keapaw nodded and padded over.

“Now!” Cricketsong started in a booming voice. “Keapaw is going to advance on you slowly,” he said to Tweetpaw. “You, will dive, twist, and swipe.” Cricketsong demonstrated as he spoke; he darted forward on his belly, rolled over and lashed out a paw at an imaginary enemy’s belly.

“That’s not a beginner’s move, Cricketsong,” Lightfoot mewed sternly. “Are you sure he can handle it?” she spoke both to mentor and apprentice. Tweetpaw nodded vigorously but Cricketsong ignored him.

“Of course he’s ready.” He scoffed, flicking his tail condescendingly at the older warrior. Keapaw felt a fizzle of annoyance run down his spine. How dare that lazy tom talk to Lightfoot that way?

Cricketsong took Tweetpaw through the procedure once more then gave the go ahead. Keapaw flexed his shoulders and then, at a slow run, approached Tweetpaw. The spry black tom wiggled his haunches before shooting between Keapaw’s front paws and twisting. As Tweetpaw flipped onto his back, his hind paw knocked Keapaw’s leg, and it buckled. Before Tweetpaw could swipe, Keapaw lay sprawled on top of him. The black tom immediately scrambled out from under him. Keapaw leapt back up and stared at Tweetpaw with guilt.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to fall.” Keapaw mewed. Tweetpaw purred, amused. “That’s fine. It was my fault, anyway.” Cricketsong approached from the lemonwood tree, irritation pricking from his pelt. “Yes, it was your fault. Your twist was awkward and wide – if you tried that on a warrior, he would’ve flattened you and taken advantage of the position. You have to be lithe!” Cricketsong ranted. Lightfoot ran in, for the second time. She thrust her head forward. “Cricketsong!” Lightfoot’s voice was full of displeasure and horror. “Tweetpaw is an apprentice, furthermore, your apprentice, and for his first try it was brilliant. He hasn’t had any other training, you said so yourself.” She hissed quietly. Cricketsong had a dull expression, giving away nothing. Lightfoot turned away with exasperation.

He doesn’t deserve an apprentice.

“Try again,” she encouraged. “Focus on keeping your back paws together and we’ll take it slowly.” Cricketsong watched from the sides, not contributing any feedback as he watched his apprentice improve his battle technique. Eventually, Cricketsong weaved his way back to the temporary camp. As Lightfoot gave a pep-talk to the apprentices, Tweetpaw watched his mentor leave with a look of longing. Keapaw felt inner frustration.

He doesn’t deserve an apprentice, or deserve to be a warrior!

The Secret Clan - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“We are here today to honour the life of Barkfur; beloved father and Clanmate,” Fallenstar meowed with emotion rising in his voice. The entire Clan was gathered around the fallen elder, whose pelt had been rubbed and smeared with rosemary and pineapple sage. It didn’t hide the smell of death from reverberating around the camp. Volewhisker and Treeleaf sat with their nose pressed against their father’s pelt, wishing him well on his journey to StarClan.

“Let him find solace in StarClan, and loved ones left behind.” Fallenstar concluded. Lightfoot knew that the tortoiseshell leader was talking about Mossface, Barkfur’s deceased mate and Volewhisker and Treeleaf’s deceased mother. A kindly cat, she had been a victim of Crowstar’s murderous reign. Tuifeather padded up to stand by Fallenstar. Lightfoot admired her sleek pelt and lithe, graceful bodice. “I take Barkfur’s tragic death as an omen,” she mewed, her voice booming through the sound of wind over grass. “This has confirmed our worst fears. Barkfur died from drinking the water coming from our stream. The water in the stream is poisoned,” This sent a shocked ripple through the Clan. “We know this for sure now. I have discussed this with Fallenstar, and we have decided that the Clan must leave the Meadow.” This left a stunned silence.

“Leave? We can’t leave!” Sunlight broke the silence with his objection. “The Meadow has been our home for generations.” Assent was murmured quietly.

“We will not stand by while our Clanmates become dehydrated or poisoned, Sunlight, understand that.” Tuifeather growled sternly.

“The fish are poisoned, too!” piped Hollypaw. Lightfoot saw Dewfrost stiffen with foreboding and surprise. Lightfoot decided she’d ask her sister about it later.

“The two-leg rubbish left in our stream has poisoned everything!” Vinepaw cried. “The water, the fish, some furred prey, some herbs and even Barkfur! I, for one, will not stand by while our environment crumbles around us!” Vinepaw’s green eyes blazed. Swiftstream nudged Lightfoot.

“Strong spirit, huh?” his eyes twinkled with pride and amusement at his sister’s passion. Lightfoot blinked and looked back to the front of the crowd.

“Have you even stopped to think this through?” The cats turned their heads to the back to see Dandelionfur shouldering her way through the crowd. “I am within one moon of having kits! While I admit that my kits will need good food and water, which we can’t get here, how will I be able to give birth to them StarClan knows where?” With a start, Lightfoot noticed Dandelionfur’s bulging belly. It was true – it would be nigh impossible for Dandelionfur to give birth to kits while travelling. Tuifeather and Vinepaw might not have the right resources to get them through the birth.

“Where are we going anyway?” Dandelionfur wailed. Lightfoot felt a rush of air as Swiftstream sprang to his distraught mate’s side. He murmured words of comfort and rested his fluffy tail tip on Dandelionfur’s shoulder. Fallenstar stepped up brusquely and addressed the Clan once more.

“StarClan has sent a prophecy to guide Tuifeather, and if you have as much faith as I have in our medicine cat, you will follow her!” Dandelionfur buried her head in Swiftstream’s long, silky fur. The Clan was grimly silent. Fallenstar bowed his head.

“We leave at dawn.”

Barkfur was buried by his kin – Treeleaf, Volewhisker, Possumflight and Beestripe. Duskflower had sent the best hunters in the Clan out for a final patrol, which were Sunlight, Raintail, Riverfur and Yarrowleaf. She wanted all cats full and fed before they left. For water they lapped at dew caught on the grass. The grey deputy then summoned the rest of the Clan.

“When we travel, we will travel in three groups. One warrior will be in charge of each group. I have selected Lightfoot, Volewhisker and myself to lead these groups. If any cat in your group falters, the group leaders will be responsible for them. If it is serious, then it is up to Tuifeather.” Duskflower eyed Lightfoot and Volewhisker coldly. Lightfoot felt like a beam of sunlight was warming her heart. Perhaps she had finally earned the trust of the harsh-hearted deputy? Tuifeather stepped forward, her beautiful features illuminated in the evening light.

“I feel it is time to tell you of my prophecy. Follow the river and you will meet fire, but beware of darkness. That was the prophecy I was given from StarClan,” Tuifeather’s mew was shrill. “I interpret it as meaning we must follow the stream to wherever we must go.”

“Which way?” Mistpaw called.

“It says we must beware of darkness. The dark liquid tainting the water came from the north – we must travel south, away from it.”

“But the river flows south, so won’t the black liquid just be carried down the stream?” an anonymous voice called.

“The water branches out many ways. As we keep travelling downstream, the poison will slowly but surely be whittled away until the water is pure. When we find the water is pure, it will be where we stay.” Tuifeather said conclusively.

The Clan murmured assent. “Get some sleep when the hunting patrol comes back. You’ll need all your strength, young and old.” Lightfoot watched as the Clan dispersed into dens and sunning places. She overheard Lilystem encouraging Ashpelt.

“We’ll make it together, old friend.” She licked his ear as they padded away into their den with the empty nest. Tansypetal, Swiftstream and Dandelionfur sat in a cluster, sharing tongues and reminiscing quietly about their memories in the camp. Cricketsong skulked away into the recessive shadowed corners of the camp, his expression unreadable. Lightfoot felt her heart sink as she watched Treeleaf place a wild rose on Barkfur’s grave. Lightfoot, too, would miss the loving elder.

The white warrior found herself suddenly pressing pelts with Hailcloud and Dewfrost.

“I’ll miss this place,” Dewfrost sighed. Lightfoot nodded and sat down in the grass outside the nursery. Hailcloud curled up around her. “I’ll miss the squirrels,” the fluffy she-cat admitted.

Dewfrost and Lightfoot shot her an odd look.

“They always tasted slightly juicier here than any other hunting grounds.” She grizzled. Lightfoot purred and the sisters crouched together on the grass, watching the first stars appear.

“Dewfrost,” Lightfoot suddenly remembered her sister acting warily when Hollypaw was talking about prey. “What was with you at the Clan meeting?”

“Pardon?” Dewfrost raised her head, ears pricked.

“You looked spooked,” Lightfoot began carefully. “When Hollypaw was talking about fish.” The white warrior voiced her thoughts. Dewfrost mirrored the look she had before; tail stiff, eyes wide and paws trembling. “Nothing. It was… nothing.” Lightfoot could smell Dewfrost’s lie from twenty fox-lengths away. She sensed that her sister was covering up for something. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” Lightfoot said simply, and began to tug a burr from her tail.

“Tell you what?” Dewfrost snorted indignantly, glancing from side to side. “I’m not hiding anything,” she insisted fretfully. Hailcloud purred amusedly. “You’re a horrible liar, Dewfrost.” Dewfrost rolled her eyes and wriggled around in the grass. She’ll tell us; sooner or later we’ll get it out of her. A series of running paw steps roused Lightfoot. In burst the hunting patrol, carrying a considerable feast for leafbare. Sunlight was carrying a blackbird and a mouse, Raintail dragged a large rabbit, Riverfur had caught two shrews and a vole, while Yarrowleaf was holding a large pink fish. The tabby cat spat out the fish.

“Fresh-kill! And for good measure, this fish is healthy. We caught it in a pond just outside the meadow.” As Beetlepaw scuttled forward to grab the blackbird, Sunlight stopped him. “You share or you get nothing.”

Beetlepaw dropped the juicy bird and instead, picked up the vole. He carried it over to his amused mother, Tansypetal. The two tucked in. The rest of the Clan shared the food between them eagerly. Lightfoot was lucky enough to have a feed of the rabbit, which she shared with her sisters and Treeleaf. No food was wasted, and Tuifeather only had to treat one bellyache from a particularly eager Tweetpaw. The Clan fell asleep on full stomachs, beneath the twinkling sky of Silverpelt.

“Hollypaw, Keapaw, Possumflight, Sunlight, Riverfur, Dewfrost, Yarrowleaf and Lilystem. You will be led by Lightfoot. Tulipaw, Beetlepaw, Raintail, Cuckoonose, Cricketsong, Treeleaf and Beestripe. You will be led by Volewhisker.” The chosen cats crouched behind their leader at Duskflower’s command.

“The rest of you, Tweetpaw, Mistpaw, Tansypetal, Dandelionfur, Swiftstream, Starlingflight, Hailcloud and Ashpelt. You will be led by me.” Lightfoot checked that her group were all there. She was relieved to see that her sister Dewfrost was in her group. Lightfoot felt a need to protect Dewfrost, although she was a kind and skilled warrior. She would not let anyone harm her kin. Unfortunately, Hailcloud was in Duskflower’s patrol. Lightfoot decided to keep watch over her fluffy sister, in case the sharp deputy decided that Hailcloud needed to be taught a lesson.

It’s not Hailcloud’s fault Duskflower hates her – and us – so much…

Many moons ago, when Dewfrost, Lightfoot and Hailcloud had all been apprentices, Duskflower had a mate. At that time, her mate, Blacktail, had been deputy. He had also been Hailcloud’s mentor. One day, Hailcloud and her mentor, Blacktail, Duskflower’s mate, went out hunting. It was newleaf, and the grounds were slick with mud. Absently chasing a mouse, Hailcloud slipped on one of the banks and fell into the flooded river. Blacktail, loyal and compassionate, had dived in to save the apprentice. And save her he did, managing to push her to safety on the pebbly shore. Although Blacktail had sacrificed himself in turn. He was swept away down the river and never seen again. The following evening they held a funeral for the much-loved deputy of MeadowClan. Duskflower, driven near insane by the loss of her mate, blamed Hailcloud for her mate’s death. Ever since, Duskflower had hated Hailcloud and her sisters, Dewfrost and Lightfoot.

Lightfoot’s travelling patrol sat quietly and watched as Vinepaw and Tuifeather crept out from her den with twin bundles of herbs in their jaws and tucked under their chins.

“These are the travelling herbs for you. Line up, and each of you will be given a portion.” Tuifeather mewed. Her request was command to the Clan, who immediately followed instructions. Tuifeather was a level-headed, kind thinker who the Clan respected. When it was Lightfoot’s turn to go up, she swallowed with a grimace. The herbs tasted so bitter! But they’ll help your endurance on the journey, Lightfoot reminded herself. As Tuifeather’s sister, Starlingflight, padded up to receive her herbs, the medicine cat secretly pawed a small piece of honeycomb into the bundle of herbs. Starlingflight rubbed cheeks with her sister before good-naturedly swallowing the herbs and sitting down in her group. Lightfoot sat over next to the nursery, where the night before she had sat with her sisters. Lazily, she watched a bee go gliding by. A cat’s shadow came into Lightfoot’s vision. Duskflower was looking sternly at her.

“Organise your patrol, and make it fast,” the deputy sneered.

Lightfoot cringed for a moment before leaping up and gathering her patrol with a yowl. Fallenstar and Tuifeather were standing at the camp entrance, while Vinepaw was flitting around Dandelionfur, asking her questions about stomach pains and kicking. For the last time, Lightfoot turned to say goodbye to her home. To the nursery she had been suckled in, the apprentice’s den she had trained in, the medicine den where she had healed and the warriors den where she had lived. Her patrol did so also, with Treeleaf casting sorrowful glances at his father, Barkfur’s grave with the wild rose still on top. Lightfoot looked to Volewhisker, with his patrol, and he looked to Duskflower. The grey deputy gave a nod. And so with light paws and a heavy heart, the Clan set off, leaving behind them the MeadowClan camp, and the very title of MeadowClan.