Read Bluestar's Prophecy Online
Authors: Erin Hunter
A croaking mew called from an opening in the ferns.
“Smallear is recovering from an adder bite,” Goosefeather explained as he padded toward the patient hidden inside the soft green walls. “Luckily it was a small adder, but it’ll be another day or two before the poison’s out of his system.” He disappeared through the ferns. “I won’t be long.”
“Come on,” Snowkit whispered, shaking a loose piece of leaf from her paw. “Let’s look inside that rock.”
Bluekit hesitated. Stormtail had just told her not to explore places she didn’t belong.
“It’s okay,” Snowkit encouraged. “Goosefeather
asked
us to come and see his den.”
Bluekit glanced at the quivering stalks where the medicine cat had disappeared. “I
guess
.” She trotted after Snowkit to the dark opening in the rock.
“I’ll go first.” Snowkit’s white pelt was swallowed by shadow as she disappeared into the den. Bluekit followed, blinking against the sudden darkness. Pungent odors instantly filled her nose and mouth.
“Look at all these herbs!” Snowkit squeaked.
Bluekit stretched her eyes wide, adjusting to the dim light filtering from the entrance, until she saw Snowkit sniffing among the piles of leaves and seeds along the wall of the den.
Snowkit pawed out a dark green leaf. “I wonder what this is for?”
Bluekit sniffed at it gingerly, wrinkling her nose at the sour smell.
“Bet you wouldn’t eat it,” Snowkit goaded.
Bluekit stepped back, blinking.
“Scaredy-mouse!”
“I’m not a scaredy-mouse!”
Anything but that
…“Okay, I’ll eat it!” Leaning down, she bit into the leaf. It felt furry on her tongue and tasted so bitter it made her gag. Spitting it out, she licked her paws, trying to rub off the taste. “That’s disgusting!”
Snowkit snorted with laughter.
“Okay, smarty-paws! Your turn.” Crossly, Bluekit brushed her paw across a pile of tiny black seeds, sending them spilling across the den floor. “Try one of those.”
“Okay!” Snowkit ducked her head and lapped up two of the seeds, swallowed them, then licked her lips. “Delicious!” she announced, her eyes shining.
“What are you two doing?” Moonflower’s screech made both kits jump. The queen grabbed Bluekit by the scruff and tossed her into the grassy clearing. She dragged Snowkit out after her.
“Did you eat anything in there?” Moonflower demanded, her eyes wild with panic.
Bluekit stared back at her, words sticking in her throat.
“
Did
you?” Moonflower growled.
“I—I spat mine out,” Bluekit stammered. She glanced
nervously at Snowkit as Moonflower’s gaze swung toward her sister.
“What about you?”
Snowkit stared at her paws. “I swallowed something,” she mumbled.
“Goosefeather!”
The medicine cat poked his head out of Smallear’s nest. “What?”
“The kits were in your den, and Snowkit has swallowed something!”
Goosefeather blinked. He hopped out from the fern nest and hurried across the grass.
“Find out what it was!” Moonflower spat. But Goosefeather was already in his den. He rushed out a moment later.
“It looks like they’ve been at the poppy seeds,” he meowed. Bluekit hung her head. She should never have dared Snowkit.
“How many did you swallow?” Goosefeather urged, his eyes round and dark.
“Two,” Snowkit mewed in a very small voice.
Goosefeather sat down with a sigh. “She’ll be fine,” he breathed. “It’ll just make her sleep.”
“Just make her sleep?” Moonflower’s pelt was bristling. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Goosefeather snapped. “Take her back to the nursery and let her sleep it off.”
“You don’t want to keep her here so you can watch her?” Moonflower prompted, flicking her tail.
“You’ll probably do a better job watching her than me,”
Goosefeather meowed. “I’ve got Smallear to keep an eye on.”
Moonflower snorted. “Come on.” She nudged Snowkit toward the fern tunnel. Bluekit hurried after.
“She’ll be
fine
!” Goosefeather called after her.
“She’d better be”, Moonflower muttered darkly.
As Moonflower marched them across the clearing, Bluekit was horribly aware of the fear and anger crackling in her mother’s pelt.
“Stupid tom!” muttered the queen. “How in StarClan did he become a medicine cat in the first place?”
Guilt twisted in Bluekit’s belly. She had dared Snowkit to eat the poppy seeds.
“Don’t ever go into a medicine cat’s den again!” Moonflower scolded. “In fact, stay away from the medicine clearing altogether!”
“But what if—” Bluekit began.
“Don’t argue!” As they reached the nursery, Moonflower picked Snowkit up by the scruff and bundled her through the entrance. Bluekit scrambled after her sister before Moonflower could do the same to her. Why was her mother so angry at Goosefeather? It was Snowkit who ate the poppy seeds!
I dared her
. Bluekit sat at the edge of their nest, her pelt prickling with alarm, as Snowkit curled into the moss. Her littermate’s eyes already had a glazed, sleepy look.
Moonflower lay down and began to lap briskly at Snowkit’s fur.
Swiftbreeze stirred in her nest. “What’s wrong?”
“Goosefeather let Snowkit eat poppy seeds!” Moonflower’s eyes were dark with worry.
Poppydawn sat up. “He did
what?
”
Bluekit felt hot with shame. It wasn’t Goosefeather’s fault. If anybody was to blame, it was her. “Goosefeather didn’t even know we were in his den,” she pointed out.
“He should have known. He should have warned you.” Moonflower sniffed at Snowkit, who was already fast asleep. “Imagine turning your tail on two young kits with all those herbs about.”
“It’s a shame Featherwhisker wasn’t there,” Swiftbreeze put in. “He’d have kept an eye on them.”
Moonflower began washing Snowkit again, this time more gently. Bluekit could smell the fear on her mother’s pelt. Her own fur prickled. “She won’t die, will she?”
Poppydawn padded from her nest and pressed her muzzle against Bluekit’s cheek. “Don’t worry, little one.” The queen glanced at Moonflower. “How many did she eat?” she whispered.
“Two.”
Poppydawn sighed. “She’ll be fine after a good sleep,” she promised.
Please, StarClan, let her be okay
. Bluekit’s tail quivered. Guilt pulsed through her as she crouched stiffly at the edge of the nest.
“Don’t worry, Bluekit.” Moonflower drew her into the moss with her tail. “I’ll watch over her. You go to sleep.”
Bluekit closed her eyes, but she couldn’t imagine sleeping
until she knew Snowkit was okay.
I’ll never let her go into Goosefeather’s den again!
“Let all cats old enough to fetch their own prey gather beneath Highrock!”
Pinestar’s call woke Bluekit. She scrambled to her paws, excited. A Clan meeting! Then she remembered Snowkit and stiffened. Hardly daring to breathe, she sniffed her sister. She
smelled
okay. And she was snoring softly.
Moonflower’s tongue rasped Bluekit’s ear. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “She’s fine.” Moonflower’s eyes were glazed, as though she hadn’t slept at all. “I’ve been checking on her.” The queen gently nudged the little white bundle. “Snowkit.”
Snowkit growled and wrapped her paw tightly over her muzzle. “Don’t wake me
again
! You’ve been poking me all night!”
Bluekit felt a rush of relief. Snowkit was fine. She nuzzled against Moonflower’s cheek and purred.
Poppydawn was stretching her forepaws and yawning. “How’s Snowkit?”
“She’s fine,” Moonflower mewed.
“She won’t do that again.” Poppydawn climbed from her nest. “Are you coming to the meeting?”
Snowkit’s eyes shot open, and she jumped to her paws. “There’s a
meeting
!”
Bluekit heaved a sigh of relief. Her sister looked so wriggly that the poppy seeds must have worn off, like Goosefeather had said. “Can
we
go?” she mewed.
Moonflower nodded wearily. “If you behave yourselves.”
“We will!” Bluekit promised.
Moonflower got slowly to her paws and padded to the den entrance.
“Where’s Swiftbreeze?” Snowkit wondered.
Bluekit saw that Swiftbreeze’s nest was empty. “Leopardkit and Patchkit have gone, too.”
“I expect they’re already in the clearing,” Moonflower called over her shoulder as she squeezed through the gap in the brambles.
Bluekit scrambled out after her mother. The early morning sun filtered softly through the trees encircling the camp. The Clan cats were filling the clearing, murmuring excitedly while Pinestar gazed down at them from Highrock.
Goosefeather sat at the entrance to the fern tunnel while Featherwhisker weaved between Tawnyspots and Sparrowpelt. Fuzzypelt and Robinwing sat in the shadow of Highrock. Bluekit spotted Stormtail chatting with Windflight. She tried to catch her father’s eye, but he was deep in conversation with the gray tabby warrior.
The tangle of branches around the fallen tree quivered as Mumblefoot, Weedwhisker, and Larksong filed out.
“Hurry,” Moonflower whispered. She nudged Bluekit and Snowkit past Dapplepaw and Whitepaw, who were jostling for best position on the tree stump.
“Here.” Moonflower sat down behind Speckletail and Stonepelt. “Now sit still and hold your tongues.”
Stonepelt looked over his shoulder at them. “Come to see your first Clan meeting, eh?”
Bluekit nodded, relieved to see warmth in the warrior’s
gaze, then glanced at her mother. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to be here?” she whispered. “We’re not old enough to catch our own prey.”
Moonflower nodded. “As long as you’re quiet.” She turned to Stonepelt. “Do you know what the meeting’s about?”
Speckletail turned around, answering before Stonepelt could speak. “I think Pinestar has something planned for two of our kits.”
Cold dread suddenly weighted the pit of Bluekit’s stomach. Perhaps Pinestar was going to scold her and Snowkit for sticking their noses where they didn’t belong! She glanced at her sister, fear bristling her pelt, then looked up at Pinestar. But the ThunderClan leader’s gaze was fixed on two
other
kits.
Leopardkit and Patchkit were sitting beneath Highrock. The Clan had drawn back, leaving an empty space around them. Were
they
in trouble? Swiftbreeze sat beside Adderfang at the edge of the clearing. They couldn’t be in trouble. Swiftbreeze’s eyes glowed with pride and Adderfang’s chest was thrust forward, his chin high as Pinestar addressed the Clan.
“Newleaf brings with it new hope and warmth. More important, it brings new kits.” The red-brown tom stretched slightly, peering over the Clan toward Snowkit and Bluekit. “I would like to welcome Moonflower and Stormtail’s kits to ThunderClan. They are a little young for a Clan meeting…”
Bluekit tensed.
“…but I’m glad they’re here to see a ceremony that they will one day experience.”
Bluekit’s heart quickened with excitement as the Clan
glanced back toward her and Snowkit.
“Leopardkit and Patchkit.” Pinestar drew their attention once more, and all eyes fixed on the two young cats beneath Highrock. “You have been with us for six moons and have learned what it is to be a ThunderClan cat. Today is the day you will begin to learn what it is to be a ThunderClan warrior.”
Mews of approval rippled through the crowd as Pinestar went on.
“Leopardkit!”
When her name was called, Leopardkit stepped forward, her eyes raised to where Pinestar stood on the edge of Highrock.
“From this day forward, you shall be known as Leopardpaw.” Pinestar turned his gaze to Robinwing. “You will train her, Robinwing. Mumblefoot was your mentor, and I hope that you will pass on the fine hunting skills he taught you.” Robinwing dipped her head and stepped forward to stand beside her new apprentice.
“Patchkit,” Pinestar went on, “I already see your father’s courage shining in your eyes. From now on you’ll be called Patchpaw, and I give you Fuzzypelt as your mentor. Listen to him carefully because, though he is young, he is clever enough to teach you how to use your courage wisely.”
Pleased murmurs spread through the Clan. “Patchpaw!” Swiftbreeze’s proud mew echoed off Highrock. “Leopardpaw!”
Dapplepaw jumped off the tree stump and weaved her way
through the crowd, Whitepaw following.
“We’ve already made nests for you,” Dapplepaw mewed to the new apprentices.
“Using some of
my
moss,” Whitepaw pointed out.
Bluekit felt a pang. She was losing her denmates. “Won’t Swiftbreeze miss them?” she asked Moonflower.
“Yes.” Her mother’s eyes were glazed, but not with tiredness this time. “Come on,” she meowed huskily. She swept her tail around her two kits and began to usher them back toward the nursery.
“Can’t we congratulate Patchpaw and Leopardpaw?” Bluekit asked, digging her claws into the soft earth.
Moonflower nudged her forward with her muzzle. “They’re busy with their new denmates.”
“
We’ll
be their denmates soon,” Snowkit mewed excitedly.
Moonflower’s ears twitched. “Not for six moons, you won’t! And only if you’ve learned not to eat poppy seeds by then!”
Deep in a dream, Bluekit pounced
at a butterfly, swiping it from the air. As she pinned it to the ground, its wings tickled her nose. Curious to see it fly away, she let it flutter into the air. It jerked away skyward, beyond her reach, but something was still tickling her nose.
She sneezed and woke up.
A short fluffy tail had strayed from Poppydawn’s overfilled nest and was twitching against Bluekit’s muzzle. She pawed it away grumpily. Snowkit’s weight was pressed against her spine, making her feel hot and squashed. Bluekit and Snowkit weren’t the smallest cats in the nursery anymore. Four moons ago, Poppydawn had had her kits: two she-cats and a tom, called Sweetkit, Rosekit, and Thistlekit. Bluekit had suggested Thistlekit’s name because he had spiky gray-and-white fur that stuck up all over the place. Luckily it was much softer than a real thistle. Snowkit had named Rosekit after the pinky-orange color of her tail. And Sweetkit, who was white with tortoiseshell patches, was named after Pinestar’s mother, Sweetbriar.
At first it had been fun having more kits to play with, but
now Bluekit felt as if she hardly had room to stretch. Even with Moonflower sleeping in the warriors’ den most nights, the nursery felt very crowded. Thistlekit, Sweetkit, and Rosekit were growing fast and forever spilling out of Poppydawn’s nest. To add to the clutter, Speckletail had kitted two moons ago, and Lionkit and Goldenkit hardly ever stopped wriggling and mewling.
They were quiet now but, as Bluekit closed her eyes again, Poppydawn grunted in her sleep and, disentangling herself from Rosekit and Sweetkit, rolled over with a sigh. Thistlekit rolled after her, rested his chin on his mother’s flank, and began to snore loudly.
What’s the point of trying to sleep anymore
?
Bluekit got to her paws and stretched, a shiver running through her long, sleek tail. With leaf-fall had come chilly mornings, and though the nursery was snug, thin streams of cold air trickled through the bramble walls. She glanced at Speckletail’s nest, envying Lionkit’s thick fur; it ruffled around his neck like a mane. Goldenkit, whose sleek, pale ginger fur made her look much smaller than her brother, stirred beside him and pressed closer to her mother.
Trying not to wake anyone, Bluekit squeezed out of the nursery. She secretly enjoyed having the early morning to herself, when the camp was quiet. The predawn sky stretched overhead, soft and gray as a dove’s wing. She recognized the scents of Sparrowpelt, Windflight, and Adderfang, still fresh in the air. They must have just left on dawn patrol. Crisp brown leaves circled down from the trees and landed gently in
the cold clearing. She pressed her paws to the ground, squashing the urge to leap up and snatch one as it fell. That was what
kits
did; she was nearly an apprentice.
Bluekit breathed deeply, opening her mouth to let the scent of the woods wash against the roof of her mouth. The forest smelled musty, rich with decay, giving up its fragrance like fresh-killed prey. Her mouth watered. She longed to be among the trees beyond the gorse barrier. Padding toward it, she sniffed at the tantalizing smells that drifted through the entrance. She stretched her muzzle forward, trying to peer through the tunnel and wondering what lay in the shadows beyond.
“Do you want to go out?”
Sunfall’s voice made her jump, and she spun around guiltily.
“I was just looking,” she mewed.
“I’ll take you, if you’d like,” the ThunderClan deputy offered.
Bluekit blinked. “What about Pinestar? Won’t he be angry?”
“Not if you’re with me.”
“Should I get Snowkit?” Bluekit meowed. “I bet she’d want to come, too.”
“Let Snowkit sleep,” Sunfall told her gently as he padded away through the tunnel.
Breathless with excitement, Bluekit followed, feeling her tail brush the gorse and the ground beneath her paws, smooth from so many paw steps.
As she emerged on the other side of the barrier, the scents of the forest flooded her nose and mouth. Leaves, earth, moss, prey—flavors so rich she could taste them on her tongue. A wind stirred her whiskers; untainted by the familiar scents of camp, it smelled strange and wild. All around Bluekit, rich leaf-fall hues dappled the forest like a tortoiseshell pelt. Bushes crowded the forest floor, shadowlike in the early light.
Sunfall led her along a well-trodden path toward the foot of a slope so steep that Bluekit had to crane her neck to see the top. “We are in the very heart of ThunderClan territory.” He glanced upward. “But up there, at the top of the ravine, the forest stretches to our borders on every side.”
Bluekit blinked. “You climb up there?” She searched the slope, trying to work out which route her Clanmates used to find their way among the rocks and bushes that jutted out above them.
“This is the easiest path.” Sunfall padded to a gap between two massive boulders where stone and earth had crumbled into a slope. He bounded nimbly up it and leaped onto one of the boulders. Looking down at Bluekit, he meowed, “You try.”
Bluekit padded tentatively to the bottom of the rock fall. It was easy to scrabble up the first few tail-lengths, but the slope suddenly steepened and her paws started to slip on the loose stones. Heart racing, she made a desperate leap toward the boulder where Sunfall waited, only just managing to claw her way up beside him.
Feeling less than dignified, she shook out her fur.
“It gets easier with practice.” Sunfall turned and led her along a muddy gully that weaved along the slope. It stopped at the bottom of another huge boulder.
Bluekit stared in horror.
Does he expect me to climb that?
Sunfall was gazing up at the smooth rock surface, his eyes narrowed. “Can you see the dents and holds where you might get a grip?”
As Bluekit scanned the rock, she started to notice chips and cracks in the stone: a dip in one side that would give her something to push against, a chink just above it where she might get a clawhold, a useful chip in the rock beyond that. Would these small cracks be enough to let her scramble to the top?
She waited for Sunfall to lead the way, but he motioned her upward with his muzzle. “You go first,” he meowed. “I’ll be right behind in case you slip.”
Bluekit unsheathed her claws.
I won’t slip
.
Crouching back on her haunches, she tensed to jump, her eyes fixed on the first tiny ledge where she might get a grip. Trembling with effort, she leaped and hooked a claw onto the chink, propelling herself upward and pushing against the dip in the rock with her hind paws. She was amazed to find herself already at the next crack, grabbing hold, pushing upward again until, by some miracle, she found herself panting at the top.
Peering down the sheer rock, she saw Sunfall; he seemed small on the forest floor below. Had she really jumped so far with just a couple of paw holds? She was level with the treetops surrounding the camp. She could see right into the high
branches where squirrels had scampered and teased her all throughout greenleaf.
“Great climb!” Sunfall landed silently on the rock beside her. “Which way now, do you think?”
Bluekit glanced behind her. Bushes and stunted trees jutted out, their roots twining through the rocky soil to hold them fast to the sheer slope. She spotted a steep but well-worn path, which weaved around the trunk of a twisted hazel.
“That way!” she mewed. Without waiting for a reply, she hurried along the track, following it as it steepened, turned back on itself, and began to snake between the boulders studding the crest of the ravine. She was nearly at the top! The forest was only a few tail-lengths away.
Suddenly her paws slipped.
Panic shot through her like lightning as the earth beneath her claws crumbled and she fell backward, sliding and skidding on her belly down the path. Scrabbling for a grip, she let out a wail.
Something soft broke her fall.
“I’ve got you!” Sunfall wriggled from underneath her and grasped her scruff to steady her. Bluekit’s heart thumped as she swung over the steep drop below. She felt for the ground, her legs shaking, and Sunfall let go as she regained her balance.
“Sorry,” she mewed. “I shouldn’t have gone so fast.”
Sunfall flicked her ear gently with his tail. “When you’re bigger, and there’s more strength in your hind legs, you can go this way. For now, let’s use that path instead.”
Bluekit followed his gaze to a stony trail twining upward through a cluster of smaller rocks. She followed him along it, letting her paw steps fall in behind his. A tail-length from the top, the path ended in a sheer wall of rock that leaned out above them. Bluekit could smell the heavy scent of forest and see branch tips poking out high above the lip of the ravine.
With one leap, Sunfall bounded up and over the edge. Bluekit took a deep breath and jumped up, reaching with her forepaws to grasp the grassy cliff top, and began to haul herself over the edge. She caught sight of Sunfall leaning forward, his teeth heading for her scruff.
“I can do it!” she puffed before he could grasp her. Her muscles burned with the effort as she dragged herself over the edge and flopped on the soft grass, panting.
“Well done,” Sunfall congratulated her.
Catching her breath, Bluekit glanced down the ravine. The camp was hardly visible beneath the treetops, and the clearing appeared as a pale splash beyond the auburn leaves. She twisted her head to look into the forest. Bushes crowded the edges, and trees stretched away into shadows. Branches creaked and shuddered in the wind. An excited shiver ran down her pelt.
“Is that where the patrols hunt every day?” she whispered.
Sunfall nodded. “You’ll be going with them soon.”
I want to go with them now!
Sunfall tensed suddenly. He was staring into the trees, eyes round. A moment later, they heard the echo of paw steps pounding eerily from deep within the forest. They drew
closer, setting the undergrowth rustling, until Bluekit could make out the shadowy shapes of cats hurtling toward them.
She edged nearer Sunfall. “Who is it?”
“Dawn patrol.” Sunfall’s mew was taut. “There’s something wrong.”
Sparrowpelt exploded from a wall of ferns, his yellow eyes burning through the predawn light. He skidded to a halt at the edge of the ravine. Adderfang, Windflight, and Thrushpelt stopped hard on his heels.
“What’s wrong?” Sunfall demanded.
“WindClan has been stealing our prey!” Sparrowpelt hissed. “We must tell Pinestar.” He plunged over the edge of the ravine with the rest of his patrol close behind.
“Let’s get back to camp.” Sunfall turned and disappeared over the edge after his Clanmates.
Bluekit was trembling. Did this mean battle?
As she slid her front paws over the rim of the cliff, she paused. The sun was cracking the distant horizon, spilling over the forest and turning the treetops pink. Pride and excitement welled unexpectedly in her belly. This was
her
territory, and her Clan was in trouble. She knew with a certainty as hard as rock that she would risk anything to help her Clanmates. She half slid, half fell down the steep tumble of rocks, scrabbled down the face of the giant boulder, and raced along the path to the rocky slope at the bottom. She was determined not to be left behind.
The other warriors had disappeared into the camp by the time she reached the bottom, and she pelted through the gorse
tunnel, praying she hadn’t missed anything.
In the clearing, Sparrowpelt was already sharing his story with Pinestar. The rest of the Clan cats, pelts bristling, were gathering around them. Stonepelt and Stormtail padded, gray as shadows, from beside the nettle patch. Branches trembled around the fallen tree as Weedwhisker pushed his way out from the elders’ den with Larksong and Mumblefoot. Robinwing paced in front of the nursery, her ears pricked up straight.
Dappletail—a warrior for only one moon, but already acting like she was deputy—pushed past Patchpaw, who was padding blearily from the apprentices’ den.
“Get out of the way! This is important!” she snapped. “Come
on
, White-eye!”
Whitepaw had been given her warrior name at the same time as Dapplepaw. Bluekit thought it was cruel of Pinestar to name her after the blind, cloudy eye that marred her pretty face, but White-eye had never seemed bothered by it, and she followed her denmate now with her usual unruffled air, shrugging apologetically as she passed Patchpaw.
“Bluekit!” Moonflower called from the fern tunnel. She emerged from the shadows, her eyes round with worry. “I’ve been looking for you! Have you been outside?” Her mew was sharp. “You know you’re not supposed to leave the camp!”
Bluekit wanted to explain that Sunfall had taken her, but Goosefeather and Featherwhisker weaved past the silver-gray queen, blocking her view as they hurried from the medicine clearing.
Tail twitching, Swiftbreeze swept in front of Bluekit. “Are you coming?”
Bluekit nodded and followed. She’d talk to Moonflower later.
Pinestar’s eyes narrowed as he spoke with the warriors from the patrol. “You say there was
blood
inside our border?”
Sparrowpelt nodded. “Squirrel blood. And it was fresh.”
Bluekit sat down beside Swiftbreeze. “Will there be a battle?” she whispered.
Swiftbreeze twitched the tip of her tail. “I hope not.”
Snowkit skidded to a halt beside them, her fur fluffed with excitement. “Imagine if there was!”
Adderfang was pacing in front of the ThunderClan leader. “WindClan cats must have killed it this morning and carried it back through Fourtrees to their own territory,” he growled.
“Are you sure it was killed by WindClan?” Swiftbreeze called.
“WindClan scent was everywhere!” Thrushpelt reported. The young warrior looked terrified, his fur sticking on end. “We were choking on it.”
Windflight tipped his head to one side. “There was no scent on the bushes,” he meowed slowly. “It may have just drifted down from the moorland.”
“
Drifted
?” Sparrowpelt scoffed.
“Too much of a coincidence!” Adderfang snapped. “Squirrel blood and Clan-scent together? They crossed our border and killed ThunderClan prey!”