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.
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