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“I don’t think I’ll get the chance to ask any of these questions,” Thrushpaw stammered. He sat at the back of the apprentice’s den, with Brightpaw, Codpaw, and Bumblepaw gathered around him. Archpelt passed by the den with a puffin feather, giving the camp the sunhigh blessing. Bumblepaw batted a moss ball between his front paws to stay focused on the conversation. Brightpaw quietly chewed on a mouse.
“Better to have them ready,” Brightpaw said, swallowing. “This may be your only chance to see what Moon wants you to do with Flowerpaw, Podpaw, and Bumblepaw.”
“They’ll probably just give me the rest of the prophecy and send me off,” Thrushpaw groaned, leaning back. “Signs and omens are so much easier.”
“Prophecies aren’t impossible!” Bumblepaw chirped. “They just take a bit of time to figure out!”
“What do you think they want you to do?” Codpaw asked, prancing around Brightpaw and Bumblepaw. “Discover who moved the border? Find a rare flower to save the clans from an upcoming plague?”
“You sound like a story-keeper,” Bumblepaw chuckled.
“It must be important to warrant a prophecy,” Brightpaw noted. “Especially one that crosses clan borders.”
“I think the most important thing to do is reach out to Flowerpaw and Podpaw,” Codpaw explained, finally sitting. “They need to know they’re involved.”
“How do I do that without Murkstream and Archpelt finding out?” Thrushpaw asked. “I can’t just ask for someone at the border like they can.”
“This is why we’re planning what to say to StarClan,” Brightpaw pointed out, taking one last bite of her mouse. “They’ll know how to talk to them. Maybe they’ll connect your dreams together! Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
“He’s not Shadowblaze the Dream-Walker,” Codpaw scoffed.
“Okay, we’re asking about meeting the other apprentices, but what sort of mission could StarClan have for us?” Thrushpaw huffed, ears twitching from frustration.
“Haddockpath and Murkstream taught me about the type of prophecies!” Brightpaw chirped, jumping to her paws. “There’s quest prophecies, where a bunch of cats need to leave the clans to do something. There are Chosen One prophecies, where the chosen cats are the only ones who can do something. Omen prophecies are really interesting—”
“Shouldn’t we wait to see what StarClan says?” Bumblepaw asked. “This seems like a waste of time.”
“We can’t waste time figuring it out after the half moon meeting tonight!” Brightpaw huffed. “Thrushpaw may need to act quickly.”
“StarClan chose us for something,” Bumblepaw said, head sinking. “Whatever it is, we’ll do it and succeed. I know we will.”
“Codpaw?” Maplesong stuck his head into the apprentice’s den. Thrushpaw jumped, hitting his head on the roof of the den. Codpaw snorted, smirking.
“Hi, Maplesong,” Brightpaw said with a respectful nod. Cliffstripe stood beside the deputy, back paws shifting.
“I really don’t know if we should trust an apprentice with this,” Cliffstripe murmured.
“Codpaw will do well, I promise,” Maplesong assured him.
“Whatever you need, Cliffstripe, I can provide!” Codpaw declared, racing to the edge of the den, tail high. “I’m here to serve!”
“I’m glad your attitude about helping clanmates has improved,” Maplesong purred.
“What can I say?” Codpaw giggled, glancing back at her siblings. “I’ve had practice.”
“Cliffstripe here needs your help,” Maplesong explained. He put his tail on Cliffstripe’s back. “He has a special surprise planned, but he wants to make sure it’s perfect.”
“A surprise for what?” Brightpaw asked.
“Do I really have to say it in front of all the apprentices?” Cliffstripe sighed.
“The clan will find out soon,” Maplesong laughed. Clifstripe groaned, but sat in a loaf in front of the den.
“Since the birth of your mother, Seabranch,” Cliffstripe muttered, “Tawnytide and I have been seeing each other. We’re in love.”
“No way!” Codpaw squealed. “You and Tawnytide? But you aren’t even mates!”
“We made a promise to keep our relationship private until my father passed on,” Cliffstripe explained. “When Ibisleap gave birth to Seabranch, Whalestar felt a lot of pressure to keep his grandkits safe. He was rather hard on Breezeclaw. I didn’t want Tawnytide to feel that sort of stress. I may be the son of the leader, but I’m a simple counselor like anyone else. But, though this may sound harsh, my father is still alive and kicking, and I don’t think I should wait anymore. Life is short.”
“You’re going to—” Codpaw squealed, almost shaking with excitement. Bumblepaw pounced on her, pinning her in Brightpaw’s nest.
“Don’t say it too loud!” Bumblepaw whispered. “If Elmpatch hears, the whole clan will know!” Codpaw shoved Bumblepaw off while Maplesong laughed.
“If we want this proposal to work, we need a bird to share,” Cliffstripe explained quietly. “If I ask her what her favorite bird is, she’ll get suspicious. I want this to be a surprise. I need you to find out for me.”
“A proposal!” Brightpaw laughed. “Mating ceremonies are a full day of celebration. I can’t wait to take part in one!”
“Counselors are here to help their clanmates,” Maplesong chuckled, “so I thought this would do you some good.”
“I already have an idea how to squeeze the information out of her,” Codpaw declared. “Is she in camp?”
“She went hunting,” Maplesong said. Codpaw hurried to Thrushpaw and dragged him by the scruff to the edge of the den.
“Thrushpaw, Bumblepaw, I’m going to need your help,” Codpaw explained. “Thrushpaw, you need to go out of camp and watch for Tawnytide. When you see her coming back, you have to signal Bumblepaw. I’m going to talk to Deerwhisker and the elders to make sure they don’t eat any birds, in case her favorite is already here. That way, Cliffstripe can do his proposal today!”
“What am I supposed to do?” Bumblepaw gulped. Codpaw whispered in his ear, grinning. Bumblepaw seemed highly uncomfortable. “I’ll do my best, but I’m not a good liar.”
“Hey, you can probably borrow a few feathers later,” Codpaw chuckled. “That way, it’s not a lie.”
“What exactly are you planning?” Cliffstripe asked with lowered brows.
“A pity party,” Codpaw declared with a cunning grin. She looped behind Thrushpaw and shoved him into camp. “Go on, be on the lookout!” Thrushpaw tripped over his own paws and scrambled out of the camp.
The day was warmer than it had been since the Gathering, so Thrushpaw could comfortably settle in the grass, ears pricked for pawsteps. He watched over the camp, just like Murkstream taught him. There was plenty to see when he took the time to be still and watch. Like how Maplesong settled beside Elmpatch, talking about his successful hunt that morning. Thrushpaw smiled. Maybe Tawnytide’s sister would be a moon or two behind her with her own mating ceremony. Then again, the way she laughed and smirked at everything Maplesong said was how she acted with everyone, PuffinClan or not.
Twigbrook shared tongues with his sons, Flounderfire and Hollyshine. Flounderfire waved his tail at Thrushpaw as he groomed his father’s pelt. Twigbrook’s eyes passed over him without a hint of familial ties. Thrushpaw sighed internally. He’d grown used to his grandfather’s traditional attitudes towards his son’s kits; seeing them less like family and more like any other clanmate. At least Breezeclaw filled that gap, although the warrior wasn’t in camp at that moment. Maybe they could share tongues together later.
Pawsteps approached the camp from behind. Thrushpaw rolled over, expecting to see Tawnytide and her patrol. Instead, Haddockpath and Nettlestone slunk towards camp. Haddockpath had left earlier that morning to see the conclusion of Mistpaw’s trial in CliffClan. She must have decided to go back with the counselors after their sunhigh meeting.
“What did Lemmingstar decide?” Thrushpaw gulped, getting to his paws.
“I want to give my report to Whalestar before anyone else,” Haddockpath explained as she approached Thrushpaw. “The clan should be satisfied with the conclusion.” She headed for Brightpaw, who was repairing a moss ball for Troutkit and Dustkit. Archpelt quickly took over entertaining his kits, prancing about with surprising youth. Part of Thrushpaw wished Archpelt was his mentor. Half the time, he acted like it. Then again, what lessons of StarClan did Archpelt ever teach? He was always more interested in connecting his clan to the stars than figuring out what the stars had to say.
Three figures emerged from behind a hill across from Thrushpaw. Tawnytide and Breezeclaw each carried a rabbit, while Tallfur trailed behind with a frog and a bird. Thrushpaw jumped into camp. Bumblepaw was waiting by the fresh-kill pile, staring into nothing.
“Whatever Codpaw wants you to do, do it now,” Thrushpaw whispered.
“Huh?” Bumblepaw asked.
“Tawnytide’s coming back!” Thrushpaw huffed. The memory snapped into place in Bumblepaw’s head. He spun to face the fresh-kill pile and started looting through it. Thrushpaw scampered to Codpaw, who casually waited by the elder’s den. She smiled wide as Tawnytide’s hunting patrol entered camp.
“Do you think Bumblepaw will remember what to ask?” Codpaw whispered.
“I don’t know what you wanted him to ask,” Thrushpaw hummed, “so we’ll see how he does.” Bumblepaw stepped back as the hunters deposited their prey on the fresh-kill pile. Tallfur gave him an odd look, but trotted over to the warrior’s den. Tawnytide headed towards Elmpatch and Maplesong.
“Hey, Tawnytide?” Bumblepaw called. The story-keeper glanced over her shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”
“What do you need?” Tawnytide asked, sitting next to Bumblepaw. “I saw you tossing the fresh-kill pile. Looking for a special meal?”
“Sort of,” Bumblepaw chuckled, rubbing his paw in the dirt. “I wanted more feathers for Ospreystep’s nest.”
“If she gets anymore feathers, she’ll be sleeping in a bird’s nest,” Tawnytide giggled.
“She feels lonely without the rest of the clan,” Bumblepaw explained, ears lowering. “Gingertail and Houndcall are wonderful, but I don’t want her to think she’s forgotten. I want her to be loved.”
“Our bumbling daydreamer is an expert liar,” Codpaw cheered in a whisper. “I can’t believe he remembered everything!”
“You’re such a sweet son, you know?” Tawnytide purred. “Ospreystep’s lucky to have you.”
“I want to pick the perfect bird for her,” Bumblepaw huffed, “but I don't know which one is right. I want it to be a bird that… that uh… one that reminds her that the cat giving it to her loves her. What’s your favorite type of bird?”
“He nearly forgot, but he picked it back up,” Codpaw muttered. Thrushpaw shushed her.
“You’d do better asking Ospreystep that,” Tawnytide chuckled.
“What sort of bird would you like someone to give you?” Bumblepaw asked.
“Personally?” Tawnytide admitted, staring at the sky. “It’s a little silly. I had a friend in ElkClan. I always thought he and his mate had the perfect relationship. The mate’s name was Brantwing. Now, whenever I see a brant at the pond, I remember her and think of how much they loved each other. It’s a sad story.”
“I’m sorry,” Bumblepaw sighed. “I don’t think that’s a silly answer.”
“Well, you’ve always been a kind heart,” Tawnytide purred, resting her head on Bumblepaw’s head. “See if Seabranch will take you to the pond today. You might be able to catch a brant there. Really though, I think Ospreystep has enough feathers.”
“Thank you!” Bumblepaw cheered, quickly trotting towards the apprentice’s den. Tawnytide cocked her head, but eventually smiled and headed towards Elmpatch and Maplesong once more.
“How was that?” Bumblepaw asked.
“A brant, that’s great!” Codpaw cheered, touching her nose to Bumblepaw’s. “I gotta tell Cliffstripe. Maplesong’s gonna be so proud!” Codpaw scurried away, racing to the warrior’s den.
“We did the hard work,” Bumblepaw muttered.
“Whatever work Codpaw can avoid is an honest day’s work for her,” Thrushpaw scoffed, heading to the holy den. “Unless she’s going to a counselor meeting, then she’s over the moon.”
The moon looked like a sleepy cat’s eye that night. It was almost flipped on its side as Thrushpaw, Murkstream, and Archpelt left camp. The warmth of the day had drained away, leaving Thrushpaw to rub against Archpelt for warmth. Murkstream seemed unbothered with her fluffy fur.
“Is there anyone you want to talk to tonight, Archpelt?” Thrushpaw asked, clenching his jaw to avoid shivering.
“I suppose I’d like to see my parents,” Archpelt hummed, tail lazily waving behind him. “It’s nice to know they’re together in StarClan. I often see Sunseed during our visits.”
“Are you going to ask about the border?” Thrushpaw asked softly.
“StarClan may have the answers our story-keepers can’t find,” Archpelt explained. “I’m sure Rollerfall and Lynxshine will ask as well.” Thrushpaw glanced back, where he knew CliffClan lurked beyond his sight.
“Is it still okay to be Lynxshine’s friend?” Thrushpaw gulped as the Hollow came into view in the distance. “Even though our clans are fighting?”
“It will pass,” Archpelt assured him. “Friendship lasts beyond momentary conflict.”
“I’m freezing,” Thrushpaw groaned. He charged ahead of Archpelt and Murkstream.
“If you run all the way, you’ll dream with StarClan as soon as you step inside!” Murkstream called. Thrushpaw knew he wouldn’t. He had too much energy. The night couldn’t have come soon enough!
Thrushpaw could see Spiderstorm waiting inside the Hollow, the first to arrive as always. He watched the entrance with wide eyes. Thrushpaw crawled into the dead tree.
“You’re excited,” Spiderstorm noted, squinting. “Too excited.”
“I have a good feeling about tonight,” Thrushpaw said, flicking his tail like Codpaw always did when she got excited. The worries of the morning had drifted away with the promise of further instruction and a clear future.
“Good for you,” Spiderstorm grumbled. Murkstream and Archpelt eventually entered the Hollow.
“Spiderstorm my son!” Archpelt chirped. “Everything alright in ElkClan?”
“Don’t call me son,” Spiderstorm sighed. “We had to bury Stiltpelt yesterday. She finally gave in.”
“Yes, I heard she was sick at the Gathering,” Murkstream hummed, settling into her usual spot. “It was for the best, considering her age.”
“Suppose you’ll try to see her?” Archpelt asked.
“You and I both know I don’t have much of a choice,” Spiderstorm muttered. While his voice sounded cruel, his eyes shone with the soft friendliness that Thrushpaw sometimes noticed lurking under his black pelt. “I guess I have a bit of good news. Do you know Stormkit?”
“Cranefeather’s older tom, yes?” Archpelt clarified, stretching across the floor as he sat.
“He told me this morning that he wants to be a seer,” Spiderstorm said.
“How wonderful!” Murkstream purred.
“The names match,” Thrushpaw noted.
“I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt that Troutkit or Dustkit could join me in the holy den,” Archpelt chuckled, claws moving in and out as his legs reached up. “They’ve yet to decide their futures, however.”
“In my opinion,” Murkstream muttered, “the last thing we need is another member of Archpelt’s lineage in the holy den.” Archpelt laughed, legs kicking.
“That’s a little harsh,” Spiderstorm groaned. Rollerfall stepped into the Hollow, with Lynxshine right on her tail. Murkstream pointedly looked over their heads.
“This has been the most stressful quarter moon of my life,” Lynxshine groaned, plopping beside Thrushpaw.
“At least the trials are over, right?” Thrushpaw said, moving in front of Lynxshine to meet the older tom’s eyes.
Rollerfall shook her head. She drew one claw across the ground and lifted her paws up and down like a stick balanced on a rock. One more trial.
“For who?” Spiderstorm asked.
“The border shifter,” Rollerfall explained.
“With any hope, StarClan will give us the clues we need to solve that mystery,” Archpelt declared. “I should note, I hold no grudge against CliffClan.”
“It’s not mutual,” Murkstream huffed, glaring at Rollerfall. “What sort of tactics do your warrior apprentices learn to maul someone leaving a battle?” Rollerfall hissed, turning her back to Murkstream.
“Okay, let’s leave that outside the Hollow,” Archpelt warned, tail on Murkstream’s back. Murkstream scooted away from him.
“We can’t start until Mountainleap arrives,” Lynxshine sighed. “Where is he? He’s rarely the last one here.”
“Someone’s asked him to bless the nursery or something,” Spiderstorm grumbled, muzzle buried in his lanky forelegs.
“Lynxshine,” Thrushpaw sighed quietly as the other seers continued their conversation, “how do you go about deciphering prophecies?”
“Rollerfall’s been the one to get prophecies,” Lynxshine whispered. “I’ve only ever gotten visions, at most. I’ve got Sun’s favor, it seems. You know, when all this clears up, we should spend time together. Walk along the border, catch each other up on our lives. Just wait until I tell you about Brownleap’s kits. I was going to mention them, but I think now isn’t the best time, if you know what I mean.”
“I forgot she was a queen,” Thrushpaw said. “I’d have to sneak away from Murkstream for that walk, but I think I need it.” Mountainleap quietly entered the Hollow, fur sagging and his belly damp. To Thrushpaw’s surprise, he wasn’t alone.
“Emberpool?” Archpelt gasped. Emberpool followed Mountainleap inside, far wetter than he was.
“This is the seer meeting, not the healer meeting,” Murksteam sighed.
“Mountainleap, are you sick?” Spiderstorm asked, sitting up. Thrushpaw scooted over so Mountainleap could sit beside Spiderstorm, with Emberpool next to him.
“Mountainleap has not been feeling well these past few days,” Emberpool explained, tail rubbing Mountainleap’s back. “I refused to let him travel here unless I came along.”
“If you’re sick, maybe you should have stayed in SealClan,” Lynxshine muttered, honest concern cracking his voice.
“A SealClan seer missing the meeting?” Murkstream scoffed. “That’s nearby grounds for exile there.”
“I’ve just been…” Mountainleap sighed, “stressed lately. Sprucefoot fell to his death a few days ago. I’ve had a lot of work to do.”
“That sounds horrible,” Thrushpaw groaned, shivering. “I hope you see him tonight!”
“We’ll see,” Mountainleap said. “Anything important I should know before we dream?”
“I understand the need to bring a healer, but couldn’t Emberpool wait outside?” Murkstream asked. “This is a sacred time.”
“I promise, I will sit still as stone,” Emberpool promised, a paw to her chest. “StarClan honors all actions I take to aid my clanmates.”
Rollerfall nodded. She touched a paw to her nose and lifted it to the sky. Her special sign for talking to StarClan.
“I agree,” Lynxshine yawned. “Let’s dream.” The seers settled around the Hollow walls. Emberpool devoted her full attention to the mystical practice. Thrushpaw tried to ignore the stranger’s presence as he closed his eyes.
“Healers are just as welcome in the Hollow as seers, Thrushpaw,” someone giggled.
Thrushpaw opened his eyes to a field of brown and yellow flowers. That was fast. It was the same place he met Halfstar, with the smell of the ocean in the air. Yet Halfstar wasn’t around. Thrushpaw worried for a moment. If Halfstar didn’t give him the rest of the prophecy, what would he do? He spun around, looking for the tortoiseshell. Instead, his gaze rested on a different molly.
She jumped and twirled in a whirlpool of bright yellow leaves. She balanced on her back legs, snatching the leaves like a kit. She looked like Brightpaw, if her gray coat was splattered with shiny ginger instead of white. Her claws cut through a large leaf as she fell giggling into the flowers. The leaves drifted to rest around her.
“Hello?” Thrushpaw asked. The mystery molly jumped out of the flowers and shook petals off her fur.
“I wanted to finish before we began,” she laughed, trotting up to Thrushpaw. “I’ve loved chasing leaves since I was a kit.”
“Where’s Halfstar?” Thrushpaw gulped, keeping his eyes on the molly’s paws. There were tiny bite marks covering her legs with scars of tightly packed stars. They looked like the rat bite Seabranch got a moon ago. Brightpaw would know who the molly was, but Thrushpaw had no idea.
“No need to worry, Thrushpaw,” the molly purred. She tucked her paw under his chin so he could meet her dark glimmering eyes. Her paw was warm and smelled like a pile of freshly fallen leaves. “She’ll still guide you. I’m simply here to assist in the next steps. My name is Leafdapple.”
“Whalestar’s mate,” Thrushpaw realized. No wonder she looked like Brightpaw, Thrushpaw and his littermates were directly descended from her!
“Walk with me,” Leafdapple said, walking past Thrushpaw. Thrushpaw spun around and hurried to her side. They left the field of flowers and continued over rolling hills that reminded Thrushpaw of home.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” Thrushpaw said, lowering his head in deep respect.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” Leafdapple insisted. “All I ask is that you listen to what I have to say.”
“Of course!” Thrushpaw chirped. “You’re StarClan!”
“You must tell Cliffstripe how proud I am of him,” Leafdapple purred. “About time he proposed to Tawnytide, in my opinion. I’ve never been more happy to win a bet with Orcathroat.”
“You bet on our lives?” Thrushpaw asked.
“ I bet on the lives of my children ,” Leafdapple clarified. “No interference, just watching and hoping I win a good grooming. I’ll likely make those same bets with them once they join me. Now if you look to your left, you’ll see we have arrived at our destination.” Thrushpaw obeyed. Standing inside a ring of water were the Stacked Stones. Thrushpaw knew they couldn’t be the real Stacked Stones, but they looked exactly alike. As Thrushpaw and Leafdapple approached, the apprentice could hear giggling. He jumped onto the stones for a better look.
Two starry kits rolled and tumbled around the Stacked Stones. One was a light ginger, their pelt plucked from Leafdapple’s beautiful spots. The other was a warm gray, but incredibly small. They pounced on one another and flew across the grass
“Goldenkit, Tinykit!” someone called. A black and white tom charged out from behind Thrushpaw. He padded around the kits, who still had their fangs nibbling the other’s ear.
“We’re playing, Orcathroat!” the ginger kit, whom Thrushpaw assumed was Goldenkit, whined.
“Mommy’s got business here,” Orcathroat explained. “I heard Thunderkit and Twilightkit are starting a moss ball game! Why don’t you play there?”
“Twilightkit’s too rough,” the other kit, Tinykit, groaned.
“We can’t let ElkClan cats beat us at moss ball!” Goldenkit huffed, pulling his sister up. “Let’s go!” Goldenkit scurried over the stones and charged across the fields. Tinykit laughed and hurried after him. Orcathroat and Leafdapple met eyes. Orcathroat nodded and bounded after the kits. Leafdapple stepped into the ring of stones.
“Who were they?” Thrushpaw asked, following.
“Orcathroat, Goldenkit, and Tinykit,” Leafdapple purred. “My first litter. I can’t wait for my sons and daughter to meet them here.” Leafdapple jumped. She flew higher than any cat should be able to jump, spinning and landing on the arch where leaders usually resided. Her tail dangled in the air. Thrushpaw sat like he was watching a Gathering, gaze turned to Leafdapple.
“I’m ready to hear the rest of the prophecy,” Thrushpaw declared. “I found the hopeful bee, the quick-footed petal, and the mother’s seed. What are we expected to do?”
“We’re still waiting on someone,” Leafdapple said, staring left. Part of the water that ran around this alternate version of the Stacked Stones snaked that direction, towards the sun. Thrushpaw knew this was the time to ask questions, but everything he planned with Brightpaw drifted from his mind like sand.
The water rippled. A gray molly, stars dusting her muzzle, slipped out of the river and hopped onto the stones. The water dissolved from her pelt as she climbed the arch to join Leafdapple. Someone else burst from the river, shaking the water out of their long fur.
“Mountainleap!” Thrushpaw called, perking up. Mountainleap groaned and jumped into the clearing inside the stones.
“If we’re sharing dreams, this must be important,” Mountainleap growled.
“I’ve had so much to tell you,” Thrushpaw stammered. “I got this prophecy—”
“Prophecies, visions, always something new!” Mountainleap snapped, glaring up at the two StarClan mollies. “Yet you never answer the questions I actually have.”
“Listen to Ivyheart and I,” Leafdapple sighed, “and you will be rewarded for your moons of struggle, Mountainleap.” Mountainleap sighed, softly shaking his head and staring at the ground.
“This is Thrushpaw’s prophecy,” the gray molly, Ivyheart, explained. “You simply need to help him along.” Embarrassment filled Thrushpaw’s face. Why was he being trusted with a prophecy over a seasoned seer like Mountainleap? He couldn’t ask, however, as stars consumed Leafdapple and Ivyheart’s eyes.
“ Even the starwatchers, when they grow tired and frustrated, must go to sleep, ” Ivyheart declared. “ Two will travel through the day to take up their posts. ”
“ The guard, to roam the fields, ” Leafdapple continued, “ and the beauty, to watch over the sea.”
“ Four wanderers, two of each land, shall call these new starwatchers to their post, ” Ivyheart and Leafdapple said in unison, “ and lead them on their pilgrimage. ” The glow in their eyes faded. Thrushpaw’s head spun, caught on a certain word. Mountainleap seemed more shocked than confused.
“Starwatchers?” Thrushpaw muttered. “Wait, do you mean seers?” Ivyheart smiled.
“No former loner has ever been a seer,” Mountainleap stammered. “SealClan would never allow it.”
“PuffinClan’s nice and all, but we don’t really trust loners,” Thrushpaw added. “And wait, are they supposed to replace the current seers?”
“Replace…” Mountainleap whispered.
“Fate will fall where it deems fit,” Leafdapple purred. She and Ivyheart leapt off the arch at the same time, approaching the seers of their respective former clans.
“I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through, Mountainleap,” Ivyheart sighed. Mountainleap was shaking, but he didn’t smell fearful.
“Replace the seer,” Mountainleap gasped, revealing a shaky smile.
“How are we expected to convince loners to become our connection to you?” Thrushpaw asked, all the questions from before pouring in.
“Here’s one last piece of advice,” Leafdapple chuckled. The two StarClan mollies touched their noses to the living seers in unison, Leafdapple bending to touch Thrushpaw’s nose. “Friends are always welcome.”
Thrushpaw was suddenly back in the Hollow, legs tucked underneath him. He jolted up, surprised by the sudden awakening. Mountainleap scrambled to his paws as well. Emberpool had looked half asleep, but rapidly blinked as the seers woke up.
“What’s wrong?” Emberpool asked. Thrushpaw looked around. None of the other seers were waking up yet. This would be the only time he’d get to ask Mountainleap for help. He had to be quick about it.
“Mountainleap, I got another prophecy last moon,” Thrushpaw stammered, whispering. “I think the four wanderers are Flowerpaw, Podpaw, Bumblepaw, and myself. I need to meet with Flowerpaw and Podpaw, but Murkstream and Archpelt can’t know. I don’t know who in PuffinClan would be replaced, but neither of them would want to leave their positions.”
“Replace, Thrushpaw, what?” Emberpool gasped. Mountainleap was still shaking, but his smile was genuine and joyful.
“Thank you,” Mountainleap cried, collapsing into grateful sobs. “Thank you, Mom.” He bent over, sobbing into the floor. Emberpool rubbed against Mountainleap, staring at Thrushpaw with wild confusion. Thrushpaw held his tongue. He had no idea what Mountainleap was going through, but this wasn’t the time to praise StarClan.
“Can you bring Flowerpaw and Podpaw to the Stacked Stones tomorrow night?” Thrushpaw asked.
“Yes, yes!” Mountainleap cheered, looking up. “I’ll make this happen. Emberpool, I don’t have to worry anymore. I only have to last, what, a moon or two?”
“Talk to me,” Emberpool demanded.
“Back in our territory,” Mountainleap promised, stumbling to the exit. “Thrushpaw, I wish you luck.” Mountainleap charged out of the Hollow.
“Is this a good thing?” Emberpool asked, starting to follow.
“He seems to be taking it well!” Thrushpaw stammered as the healer left. Suddenly, Thrushpaw was alone in the Hollow full of sleeping seers. He watched Lynxshine breathing gently beside him. He wouldn’t be so lost in his own worries and neuroses to ignore Thrushpaw. He could help. But this prophecy didn’t involve CliffClan. What good would it do?
“Who should we fear?” Rollerfall yelped, startling Thrushpaw. Rollerfall was suddenly awake, coughing violently. Spiderstorm, Murkstream, Archpelt, and Lynxshine slowly opened their eyes, but snapped to attention as Rollerfall’s coughing continued.
“Breathing exercises, Rollerfall!” Lynxhine stammered, turning to his mentor’s side. Spiderstorm looked around for someone, but growled when he couln’t find them.
“Where’re the SealClan cats?” Spiderstorm snapped. “Emberpool could help.”
“They had to leave,” Thrushpaw explained.
“Rollerfall, did StarClan give you a hint to the identity of the border shifter?” Archpelt asked, scooting closer to Rollerfall. Rollerfall breathed deep, slowly easing her coughing.
Rollerfall drew a large circle in the air and rubbed her throat. A lot to say. The seers waited as Rollerfall tried to settle her throat. Murkstream thrashed her tail, impatient.
“No one to greet me,” Rollerfall explained. “Alone on a mountain, or cliff. Strange feeling. Familiarity and horror.”
“Did you see anything?” Lynxshine asked. Rollerfall licked her lips with another cough.
“Storm,” Rollerfall gasped. “Raining blood. Below, a meadow, under siege. Scent of both clans.” Thrushpaw’s gut twisted. How could he focus on his prophecy when CliffClan and PuffinClan were still fighting?
“Whatever happens between PuffinClan and CliffClan, we must pursue peace,” Lynxshine declared as Rollerfall finally rested her voice. “This conflict is only going to lead to lost lives, Sun has seen it in his dreams.”
“We need compromise on all sides,” Archpelt said, nodding along. “StarClan disapproves of us.”
“Or just one clan,” Murkstream grumbled. “This battle was in a meadow. It sounds to me that CliffClan plans to continue infringing on the rights of PuffinClan. What else does Lemmingstar plan to take from us?” Rollerfall and Lynxshine’s hackles puffed up.
“Murkstream, enough!” Archpelt snapped, slamming a paw in front of the munchkin cat. Thrushpaw’s eyes widened. He’d never heard Archpelt yell like that before. Murkstream glared at Archpelt but seemed subdued. “We are seers. We are supposed to be better than to stoop to throwing blame. PuffinClan values kindness over violence, and CliffClan values its honor as warriors worthy of StarClan. We can find a path away from this vision.” Murkstream turned her head to the ground.
“If we value kindness,” Murkstream grumbled, “then our clan isn’t the one we need to worry about.”
“ElkClan’s not involved in this, so I’m gonna…” Spiderstorm muttered. He carefully padded around Archpelt and Murkstream and slipped out of the Hollow.
“I’m going to ask the counselors to agree to resetting the border back to where it was before this mess,” Lynxshine sighed. “I think Ospreystep’s seen justice.”
“I’ll convince Whalestar as well,” Archpelt agreed, “though he has been set on the border expansion. I will do my best.”
“Come, Thrushpaw,” Murkstream huffed, stomping out of the Hollow. “We’re returning to camp.” Thrushpaw’s pelt burned. How could his own mentor act so brashly?
Lynxshine smiled at Thrushpaw and nodded. Thrushpaw relaxed slightly. At least Lynxshine didn’t blame Thrushpaw for his mentor’s actions. He stayed close to Archpelt as he left the Hollow, his worry following like a shadow.
“I’m a counselor, this is literally what I’m training for!” Codpaw whined the next morning, giving Thrushpaw another stick. Houndcall had complained that night about a draft sneaking into the den, so Maplesong gave the job of reinforcing the den to the apprentices, although Bumblepaw was out hunting. Thrushpaw and Brightpaw carefully stuffed leaves and sticks and what building materials they could find into the walls while Codpaw gave them supplies.
“Except this isn’t a counselor meeting,” Brightpaw sighed. “Flowerpaw and Podpaw might get nervous if someone else comes with Thrushpaw and Bumblepaw. We don’t know what Mountainleap will tell them.”
“Maplesong has me stuck in camp all day so the other counselors can vent about the border issues,” Codpaw groaned. “I need to stretch my paws!”
“It’s a slow day for all of us,” Thrushpaw sighed. “I’m meditating all day.”
“All day?” Codpaw gasped. “That’s torture.”
“Haddockpath is testing me on trial procedure after this,” Brightpaw mumbled.
“So we all have a boring day,” Codpaw huffed. “Perfect reason for us to go with you!”
“No!” Thrushpaw hissed quietly. “I’m sorry, but this is seer business!” Codpaw scowled and tossed Brightpaw another stick. She turned her back on her brother to aimlessly sort sticks. Thrushpaw turned his back as well. If Codpaw was going to be that way, he’d be that way too.
Bumblepaw, Seabranch, and Nettlestone entered camp with a piece of fresh-kill each. They dutifully set a bird and two mice on the fresh-kill pile. Bumblepaw was the one to set the bird down. Thrushpaw realized, as Codpaw perked up, that the bird was a brant.
“Bumblepaw, guard that bird with your life!” Codpaw whispered as Seabranch and Nettletone headed for the warrior’s den. Bumblepaw jumped.
“Uh, why?” Bumblepaw asked.
“No time to remind you!” Codpaw huffed. “I know Tawnytide’s checking on Deerwhisker in the holy den since she's got that stomachache. Brightpaw, where’s Cliffstripe?”
“I can remember if you give me the chance,” Bumblepaw muttered into his chest, but Brightpaw talked over him.
“I think Cliffstripe’s leading today’s sunhigh meeting, so he’ll be talking to Whalestar,” Brightpaw explained. Codpaw bolted for the leader’s den. Thrushpaw trailed after her, trying to grab her tail.
“Cliffstripe!” Codpaw squealed, diving into the leader’s den. Though it was dark from outside, Thrushpaw could see Whalestar fluffing up for a fight.
“Intruders?” the old leader asked.
“Codpaw, you can’t be in here!” Maplesong snapped from somewhere in the shadows.
“Cliffstripe, Bumblepaw caught a brant!” Codpaw cheered, hopping around Cliffstripe at the edge of the den. “If you’re gonna do it, you need to do it now! Tawnytide’s with Deerwhisker in the holy den, move it!”
“Sorry, Whalestar,” Cliffstripe stammered, backing out of the den. “There’s something I’ve been putting off for too long.” Cliffstripe stumbled into the camp, smiling. Codpaw scurried behind him, hopping as she walked. Cliffstripe grabbed the brant and tucked it behind the elder’s den. Codpaw tried to control her smile as Cliffstripe approached the holy den.
“I get the feeling we should finish this quickly,” Brightpaw said, stuffing one more leaf into the den. Thrushpaw added a stick to the mix, grabbed the remaining materials, and hurried to the apprentice’s den with his littermates. Codpaw dragged Bumblepaw with them.
“Have they hunted or done any important work?” Thrushpaw asked. “Tawnytide may not want to eat until then.”
“She won’t refuse, she’s in love,” Codpaw scoffed.
“They’re coming out, act casual!” Brightpaw whispered. Thrushpaw stared at the clouds as Cliffstripe led Tawnytide towards the fresh-kill pile. Codpaw examined her claws. Bumblepaw faced the inside of the apprentice’s den.
“Should we watch?” Bumblepaw asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Oh, we’ll celebrate soon enough,” Codpaw chuckled. “He grabbed the brant, let’s see if, yes, she’s going to eat with him!”
“Do you think he’ll wait until they’re finished?” Brightpaw asked. Thrushpaw risked a look. Cliffstripe was incredibly stiff, staring at Tawnytide as she took a bite.
“I don’t think he’ll last that long,” Codpaw giggled.
“He’s saying something, but I can’t make it out from here,” Brightpaw huffed.
“Oh no, is she crying?” Codpaw gasped. Thrushpaw broke away from his cloud-gazing. Tawnytide definitely seemed ready to cry. But Thrushpaw had seen something very similar at the Hollow. He smiled.
“She accepted,” Thrushpaw said. Sure enough, Tawnytide and Cliffstripe pressed their foreheads together, purring.
“I did it!” Codpaw cheered, racing towards them. Other cats were starting to move towards Tawnytide and Cliffstripe, confused and concerned. Brightpaw and Bumblepaw followed the crowd, who began to shout and cheer in congratulations. Thrushpaw stayed behind, content to watch over his clan.
“Thrushpaw,” someone said behind him. Murkstream stood outside the camp, watching the sudden celebration erupting below.
“Cliffstripe and Tawnytide are going to be mates,” Thrushpaw explained, standing beside his mentor. “I think the clan really needed something like this.”
“I agree,” Murkstream hummed. “However, I need you for something.”
“I thought we were meditating today,” Thrushpaw said as Murkstream trailed away from camp. He kept pace, which for him was a simple walk while Murkstream had to jog.
“Later,” Murkstream sighed. “There’s something I need to figure out.”
Not too long after, Murkstream and Thrushpaw arrived at the pond. The smell of Bumblepaw’s hunting patrol still stained the air. The prey was still hiding. Murkstream approached the shore and gazed into the water. Thrushpaw copied her.
“What are we doing here?” Thrushpaw asked.
“A test,” Murkstream muttered. “I need you to watch for any of our clanmates, though with Cliffstripe’s proposal, I doubt anyone will interrupt me.” Thrushpaw sat as Murkstream waded into the water. Despite her size, she was a wonderful swimmer, paddling through the water. Her tail trailed behind her like a water snake. She stopped at the center of the pond. She swam in a circle and watched the ripples trail towards the shore.
“Thrushpaw, throw a rock at me,” Murkstream ordered.
“A rock?” Thrushpaw gasped. “I don’t want to hit you!”
“I’ll be fine,” Murkstream grunted. “Now throw a rock.” Thrushpaw looked around. He found a sizable pebble buried in the sand. He dug it out and grabbed it with his teeth. He closed his eyes, spun, and let go of the rock.
The pebble plopped into the pond beside Murkstream. Ripples cascaded from the center, fading into nothing by the shore. Murkstream dove under. She emerged with the pebble in her mouth. She swam back to the shore. When she got beside Thrushpaw, she shook out her pelt and dropped the pebble. She stared across the pond with furious eyes.
“There is no way a kit, even a stubborn one, could swim all the way to the center of the pond,” Murkstream huffed. “Troutkit didn’t wander into the pond last moon. He was thrown.”
“Who would harm a kit?” Thrushpaw stammered. “Why would Shimmerblaze and the others say otherwise?”
“I’m not sure,” Murkstream growled. “I’m going to figure it out, one way or another. For the clan’s sake, Thrushpaw, don’t trust Whalestar and Maplesong. If they would lie about this, we don’t know what else they could have lied about.”
“Why do you think he was in the center of the pond?” Thrushpaw asked, shaking his head. “They never said that.”
“Last moon, my father told me Troutkit was at the center of the pond,” Murkstream huffed, pointing her tail at the water. “I knew they were keeping something from me.”
“What would be the point of lying about that?” Thrushpaw groaned.
“I said I’d find out,” Murkstream assured him. “Not a word of this to anyone, especially Codpaw. She’ll tell Maplesong right away.” Thrushpaw nodded. Considering how frustrating Codpaw was being that day, it wasn’t hard to agree. Murkstream trotted a tail-length away and settled in the grass. “Fetch Archpelt. I think we should have our meditation here.”
“Yes, Murkstream,” Thrushpaw sighed. He groaned under his breath as he started the walk back to camp. Now there were three major things to worry about.
Thrushpaw stepped out of the holy den and into the crisp night. Gentle murmurs flowed from the warrior’s den, young cats unable to get sleep or tossing in their nests, anticipating the ceremony to come. Bumblepaw waited by the apprentice’s den, stiff. Thrushpaw glanced back at Murkstream, Archpelt, and Shimmerblaze. Each was deeply asleep. Thrushpaw and Bumblepaw met each other halfway.
“Do you think Mountainleap will be there?” Bumblepaw whispered.
“He needs to be,” Thrushpaw gulped. “Come on.” Thrushpaw hopped out of camp. Nettlestone and Hollyshine were guarding the camp that night, backs to one another as they watched the meadows. Hollyshine turned around as the apprentices exited camp.
“Where are you going so late?” Hollyshine asked. “Don’t you want to rest for the celebration tomorrow?”
“I wanted to teach Bumblepaw about constellations,” Thrushpaw lied, acting as though he was caught in an awkward secret. “We should be back soon.”
“You could try and catch a bird tonight,” Hollyshine suggested. “That way more clanmates can wear feathers to Tawnytide and Cliffstripe’s ceremony. Seabranch would be impressed, Bumblepaw.”
“If I see a bird, I’ll try to catch it,” Bumblepaw said, his awkwardness being far from an act. Thrushpaw led him away from camp, nodding to Nettlestone as they passed. Thrushpaw almost thought he could smell the sea.
“Hey, Thrushpaw?” Bumblepaw whispered. “You trust me to remember things, right?”
“Yes,” Thrushpaw assured him. “I know you’ll remember the important things.”
“It’s felt like you and your littermates don’t want me to help with plans,” Bumblepaw sighed, kicking the grass as he walked. “You’re always talking about the prophecy without me and don’t fill me in when I show up.”
“We tell you about things eventually,” Thrushpaw noted.
“I have just as many good ideas as you,” Bumblepaw grumbled. “I’m not dumb.”
“I know you aren’t,” Thrushpaw said as the Stacked Stones appeared in the distance. “This prophecy sounds like a quest, so once we set out on it, you’ll have a lot more say in what we do.”
“How do you know it’s a quest?” Bumblepaw asked. Thrushpaw picked up speed so he could leap onto the mossy stones.
“It talked about traveling,” Thrushpaw explained. “It wouldn’t make sense if we had to stay here.”
“I don’t know if my mom will be proud of me or scared,” Bumblepaw admitted, joining Thrushpaw on the rock. Thrushpaw peered into SealClan territory. He couldn’t see anyone.
“Where is he?” Thrushpaw groaned.
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Bumblepaw said. “I hope Podpaw and Flowerpaw are willing to help. They were nice at the Gathering.”
“Last Gathering, Podpaw tried to show off his fighting moves,” Thrushpaw scoffed. “He got yelled at for ‘fighting’, even though he was getting his pelt tossed to him by Flowerpaw.”
“Are you friends with them?” Bumblepaw asked.
“I usually talk to the other seers at Gatherings,” Thrushpaw admitted. “All I know about them is what I’ve seen and what Codpaw’s talked about. Their father used to be a kittypet, apparently.”
“If we run into any kittypets, they’ll be helpful to have along!” Bumblepaw noted, one of his flopped ears turning inside out.
“If they’re willing to come,” Thrushpaw gulped.
“Isn’t SealClan big on prophecies?” Bumblepaw asked. “Why would they not want to help?”
“You’re right, no need to worry,” Thrushpaw muttered, trying to convince himself. “Hey, there’s a good idea of yours!”
“Oh,” Bumblepaw said, smiling softly. He laid down and scratched at the moss nestled between the stones. Thrushpaw laid down too, eyes still focused on SealClan.
It seemed like a moon had passed before Thrushpaw finally saw a glimmer of long gray fur padding towards the Stacked Stones. Flowerpaw and Podpaw trailed behind Mountainleap, with Emberpool far behind them. Thrushpaw’s fur ruffled. Why did Emberpool have to come along for everything? This wasn’t her prophecy, even if Mountainleap was sick.
“You made it!” Bumblepaw cheered, hopping off the stones. Emberpool stayed outside the stones while Mountainleap led the SealClan apprentices into the clearing. Flowerpaw kept her tail low while Podpaw’s energy fluffed up his pelt and made his eyes shine.
“We’re meeting with PuffinClan cats?” Flowerpaw asked, looking to Mountainleap.
“This is Thrushpaw’s business,” Mountainleap sighed. “I’m simply bringing you to him.” Mountainleap stomped towards Emberpool, tail dragging, leaving the apprentices alone.
“What did Mountainleap tell you?” Bumblepaw asked as Thrushpaw watched Mountainleap rest his head on Emberpool’s shoulder.
“He said we had to follow him, but didn’t say why,” Flowerpaw explained.
“If it involves two seers, it must be important,” Podpaw said, grinning.
“Why an apprentice, though?” Flowerpaw asked. “Not to sound like you can’t do your job, but I would have thought something important like this would be given to a fully named seer.”
“Moon knows why,” Thrushpaw sighed, sitting. “I only got the full picture last night at the halfmoon meeting. It took me a full moon to figure out that StarClan wanted us four.”
“StarClan wants me?” Podpaw gasped.
“They asked for the hopeful bee, the quick-footed petal, and the mother’s seed,” Thrushpaw explained, motioning to Bumblepaw, Flowerpaw, and Podpaw respectively. “That’s you three.”
“Flowerpaw, I’m in a prophecy!” Podpaw whispered, nearly shaking with excitement.
“We’re both in a prophecy,” Flowerpaw corrected him. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Thrushpaw, right?” Podpaw asked. “What does StarClan want us to do?”
“It’s not completely clear, but I know enough,” Thrushpaw sighed. “I got a prophecy asking us to find new seers for SealClan and PuffinClan.”
“As in, outside the clans?” Podpaw clarified.
“That would never work,” Flowerpaw huffed. “Our clans aren’t as willing to welcome loners and kittypets as ElkClan and CliffClan. To have a loner become a seer? It’s unheard of.”
“I thought your mom was a kittypet once,” Bumblepaw sighed.
“Our father,” Flowerpaw corrected, “and he never asked to be a seer.”
“But if StarClan wants it, it can’t be bad!” Bumblepaw snapped, fixing his flopped ear.
“I’m not saying it’s bad, I’m saying our clans would never accept it,” Flowerpaw sighed.
“We can’t know until we find them,” Bumblepaw insisted.
“Flower, we can retrace Dad’s travels,” Podpaw whispered, pacing around Flowerpaw. “Find where Reke and Shrimp are buried, find his old human nest. You’ve always said you were curious about where he came from! We’ll be famous!”
“I don’t care about being famous,” Flowerpaw explained, taking a step back. “Quests are dangerous, Podpaw. Half the quests I’ve learned of had someone die before they could return. How heartbroken would Dad be if you or I died?”
“Maybe that’s why there are two warrior apprentices going,” Bumblepaw suggested, standing in front of Podpaw’s pacing. “We can defend each other.”
“Aren’t you concerned about leaving your clan?” Flowerpaw asked, tail brushing against Bumblepaw. “You’re the youngest. Do you think you’ve had enough training to take care of yourself? Have you passed a battle exam?”
“Whatever Bumblepaw can’t do, I can,” Podpaw insisted. “Maybe I can teach him a thing or two!”
“I’ve always been curious about how to swim,” Bumblepaw admitted.
“We’re planning to leave soon,” Thrushpaw interrupted, placing himself in the center of the small circle the others had formed. “Are you willing to come with us?”
“I’m going, whether my sister comes or not,” Podpaw declared, glaring at Flowerpaw.
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Flowerpaw insisted, rubbing against her brother. “I’ll go too.”
“Do we just go then?” Bumblepaw asked, staring towards the river border of SealClan and ElkClan.
“Our clans would panic if we just left,” Flowerpaw grunted. “I want to say goodbye to my family.”
“Codpaw would kill me if I didn’t see her either,” Thrushpaw gulped.
“So do we leave tomorrow night?” Bumblepaw sighed.
“We need a bit of planning if we’re really doing this,” Flowerpaw huffed. “What direction will we travel in? Who are we looking for?”
“The guard and the beauty,” Thrushpaw explained
“Yeah, that means nothing,” Podpaw muttered.
“I think our best course of action would be to head north,” Flowerpaw explained, pointing to the river border. “We can try to follow my father’s path. He passed by various human clans where we are bound to find kittypets and loners that could fit the description.”
“It’s barely a description,” Podpaw grunted.
“I’ll know who they are when I see them,” Thrushpaw insisted.
“I’ve studied the cultures of our clans,” Flowerpaw continued. “I may know a good way to leave our clans without panic.”
“Could we wait until after tomorrow night?” Bumblepaw asked.
“Why?” Podpaw asked
“We…” Bumblepaw muttered. “We kind of have plans.”
Seabranch carefully tucked feathers into the fur of each of her kits. She’d managed to snag a crow that morning in the frenzied search for birds, which she used to decorate her family. Codpaw, Brightpaw, Thrushpaw, Flounderfire, and Seabranch each sported a long wing feather, with enough left over for Tallfur, Swiftflake, Ibisleap, and Breezeclaw to use as well. The elders had split a willet with Deerwhisker and her kits. Ospreystep had the first pick of feathers, but she saved the longest wing feather for Bumblepaw. Murkstream, Archpelt, and Shimmerblaze wore albatross feathers while Maplesong and Whalestar, standing by the boulder with heads held high, each had a prized puffin feather.
PuffinClan gathered in the camp as the sun rose, excited murmurs rumbling throughout. Brightpaw was taking in every detail of the event. Codpaw couldn’t have looked more proud if it was her own mating ceremony. Thrushpaw tried to keep his thoughts focused on the happy occasion. He couldn’t help notice Murkstream’s harsh stare at Whalestar. How could he leave now, with Murkstream’s suspicions and the still tense air with CliffClan?
“How much longer?” Codpaw whispered to her mother.
“They need to wait until the sun enters the warrior’s den,” Seabranch explained. “Then the fun can begin!”
“Your mother and I had a rather wild ceremony,” Flounderfire chuckled, leaning close to Thrushpaw. “We caught a hawk together. I wanted to name you Hawkkit after that but Seabranch insisted on Thrushkit after the bird I proposed with.” Thrushpaw ran his paw down his leg. He had no idea that was where his name came from.
“They’re coming out!” Elmpatch squealed, almost knocking her eagle feather out. Gingertail and Houndcall shushed their youngest daughter as gray and black paws stepped into the sun. Tawnytide and Cliffstripe walked side by side into camp, fur groomed to perfection and brant feathers in their pelts.
“I wish I had that,” Snailnose whispered below Thrushpaw. PuffinClan cleared the way for Tawnytide and Cliffstripe to slowly approach Whalestar. The old leader was smiling with the same glow about him as Gingertail and Houndcall. The two stopped in front of Whalestar. Whalestar purred, his joy rumbling through his pelt.
“Cats of PuffinClan,” Whalestar called. “A mating ceremony is one of the few times I do not have to call you to gather below me. Our clanmates step into the sun, ready to walk the same path through the stars. I will admit, overseeing the ceremony of my son is an added pleasure. But there are plenty of pleasures to come on this day of celebration.” Whalestar lifted his age-speckled muzzle high. “I call upon my warrior ancestors to bear witness to the love of Cliffstripe and Tawnytide. They wish to take the bond of mates, to unite their lives as one and continue the legacy of the clans. Cliffstripe, do you swear to honor the life of Tawnytide until she joins the ranks of StarClan, throughout the struggles of clan life?”
“I promise,” Cliffstripe said, peering into Tawnytide’s eyes.
“Tawnytide,” Whalestar purred. “Do you swear to honor the life of Cliffstripe until he joins the ranks of StarClan, throughout the struggles of clan life?”
“Yes,” Tawnytide proudly declared.
“Well then,” Whalestar chuckled. “May your lives be long and equal. May your kits be healthy and propserous. May you honor PuffinClan with your bond. I declare you mates!” Cliffstripe and Tawnytide dissolved into one another as cheers and purrs erupted through the clan.
“Cliffstripe! Tawnytide!” PufinClan cheered. “Cliffstripe! Tawnytide!”
“And this means no hard work all day!” Codpaw laughed, flank wiggling. Cliffstripe and Tawnytide pulled away from each other as their parents and siblings pounced on them with congratulations.
“Who’s ready for the clan hunt?” Tawnytide called. Swiftflake and Breezeclaw cheered the loudest. Dustkit and Troutkit ran between Cliffstripe and Tawnytide’s legs, their willet feathers flying out.
“If anyone doesn’t want to come along,” Maplesong explained over the noise of excited cats, “you’re in charge of watching over the kits.”
“We don’t get to come?” Dustkit whined, slamming into her mother.
“You’re too young,” Deerwhisker explained. “I think Ospreystep is staying, she’ll take care of you while I’m out.” Thrushpaw’s family swarmed around him, finding who they wanted to hunt with, turning his world into a sea of gray fur. When he emerged, Murkstream was approaching him.
“We’re staying in camp,” Murkstream explained.
“What?” Thrushpaw snapped.
“We don’t hunt, there’s no point,” Murkstream grumbled. “With the rest of the clan gone, we can ask Trout—”
“You can do what you want,” Thrushpaw grunted, stomping past Murkstream. “It’s a celebration, I want to celebrate.”
“Thrushpaw, you are my apprentice,” Murkstream hissed, following him. “Seers are expected to behave differently than their fellow clanmates. We don’t engage with them in this way. We’re here to guide them, not play kit games and pretend that there’s no tension with CliffClan.”
“Murkstream, with all due respect, that’s fox-dung,” Thrushpaw snapped. “Archpelt loves spending time with the clan. He says our job is to connect our clanmates to our ancestors, and that means being one of them, not standing apart.” Cormorantpetal and Newtstorm glanced at the two seers from where they talked to Elmpatch. Murkstream closed her hissing mouth. She stepped closer to Thrushpaw, stretching to get to his ear.
“The other clans forbid their seers to mate for a reason,” Murkstream hissed. “Copying Archpelt will only lead you to ruin, Thrushpaw. You’ll do well to remember that.” Murkstream turned and trudged into the holy den, right behind Shimmerblaze and Hollyshine. Thrushpaw’s attention turned towards Archpelt. He was sharing tender words with Deerwhisker, the two leaning on one another as they watched Tawnytide and Cliffstripe accept praise after praise. There were two seers in PuffinClan. Was StarClan displeased with Archpelt for having a mate?
“Come on, Thrushpaw!” Codpaw called. She and the other apprentices were out of camp as the rest of the clan began to head out for the big hunt. Thrushpaw smiled and hurried after his littermates.
As was traditional, Tawnytide and Cliffstripe led the clan throughout the territory, with everyone going off to catch what they could. Bumblepaw and Brightpaw stayed by their mentors, helping them chase down rabbits. Codpaw managed to squeeze her way into the inner circle of Cliffstripe and Tawnytide’s kin. Thrushpaw lingered with Archpelt, who was giving his mate time with her sister.
“Archpelt,” Twigbrook laughed, picking up his pace to walk alongside the old seer, “remember when we were apprentices, and Thornsun and Beechmask had their mating ceremony?”
“How could I forget?” Archpelt chuckled, shaking his head.
“What happened?” Thrushpaw asked.
“I tried to hunt!” Archpelt laughed. “I tried to stalk a rabbit and fell on my face.”
“What if I tried to hunt?” Thrushpaw wondered.
“You want to embarrass yourself?” Twigbrook asked, skeptical.
“It would be good to know, right?” Thrushpaw explained. “What if I had to go somewhere and support myself?” That time would come sooner than Archpelt or Twigbrook knew, but Thrushpaw wasn’t going to ruin the celebration.
“Tawnytide and Cliffstripe are going off to raid a rabbit den, so we’d have the time to test you without losing the group,” Archpelt said. “If you really want to try.”
“I want to see what it’s like,” Thrushpaw huffed. Twigbrook tasted the air.
“We won’t find any prey with the main hunting party,” Twigbrook sighed. “Follow me.” Twigbrook and Thrushpaw trailed east. While Twigbrook scanned the territory for prey, a question popped into Thrushpaw’s head. He may lose out on his hunting lesson, but he felt it was worth asking.
“Twigbrook?” Thrushpaw asked.
“Be patient, Thrushpaw,” Twigbrook said, not looking back. “Prey won’t just come up to you, especially in fields like ours.”
“I was wondering…” Thrushpaw sighed. “Do you think Flyflight would have liked me and my littermates?” Twigbrook stopped walking. Thrushpaw’s ears lowered slightly.
“I should have expected someone would bring up my mate today,” Twigbrook muttered. “Today is a day of remembering love. It is nice to hear someone outside of my sons mention her name.”
“She is my grandmother,” Thrushpaw pointed out. “I wish I had gotten to know her.”
“She did dream of coddling you,” Twigbrook admitted, facing his grandson. “She would chastise me for my more restrained opinions. The families of PuffinClan tangle so often, it’s best to consider only those closest in blood your family. But yes, I think Flyflight would have adored you all. Codpaw reminds me of her at times.”
“Do uh…” Thrushpaw muttered. He might as well risk it. “Do you like us?”
“Of course,” Twigbrook said simply. “I may not treat you the same way Breezeclaw does, but you’re all growing into loyal clan cats. I’ll be proud to call Brightpaw a fellow story-keeper and listen to your wisdom.”
“Codpaw thinks you hate us,” Thrushpaw mumbled.
“I promise I do not,” Twigbrook insisted. “If I did, would I be giving you a hunting lesson?” He pointed his tail upwind. “There’s a mouse up ahead. Smell it?”
“I think so,” Thrushpaw said, smiling.
“Let’s see if you’re just as poor a hunter as Archpelt,” Twigbrook chuckled.
Now to say Thrushpaw succeeded would have been an overstatement. He managed to hold a respectable hunter’s crouch and got close to the mouse. However, the pesky rodent slipped under his paws and through the tall grass. Twigbrook caught it instead, and carried it back towards the rest of the clan. Thrushpaw didn’t walk with shame, surprisingly. He got something much more important out of that little lesson.
When the pair returned to the hunting party, everyone had gathered around Tawnytide, Cliffstripe, and all of their littermates as they tensed their muscles and stared down a long stretch of rolling hills. Whalestar and Gingertail waited bear-lengths ahead, marking the finish line of the race. Houndcall stood in the center of the racers, tail raised. Haddockpath sat beside a growing pile of fresh kill.
“Ready?” Houndcall asked as Twigbrook gave Haddockpath the mouse and Thrushpaw scrambled over to Codpaw. “Race!” Houndcall threw her tail down. The cats zoomed past her, wind tugging at her fur. The blind elder nearly got turned around by the sudden change. Seabranch, Tallfur, and Swiftflake cheered on their mother while Archpelt yowled for his mate to win. To no surprise for Thrushpaw, Elmpatch easily won the race, streaking past Whalestar and Gingertail. She was the youngest in the group after all. Everyone merged back with the rest of PuffinClan panting and smiling.
“Let’s have the apprentices race!” Tawnytide suggested.
“Oh I’m so beating you,” Codpaw laughed, racing to the start. Brightpaw and Bumblepaw joined Thrushpaw as the four apprentices took a spot for the race. Thrushpaw wasn’t sure who would win, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to brag about a victory over his littermates. Houndcall stood between Codpaw and Bumblepaw and raised her tail. Thrushpaw crouched slightly, claws out.
“Go!” Houndcall yowled. The four apprentices darted forward, claws digging into the ground to support themselves. Bumblepaw began to trail, unable to pick up speed no matter how hard he ran. Codpaw, Brightpaw, and Thrushpaw ran muzzle to muzzle. Whalestar and Gingertail grew bigger as they got closer.
“Don’t tell Murkstream!” Thrushpaw laughed as he crawled ahead. He was a tail-length ahead of his sisters. He’d be on the finish line in a moment.
“Sister smash!” Brightpaw yowled. Thrushpaw’s mind flashed back to their nursery days where he’d watch the clouds drift past and Brightpaw would give a similar command.
“No!” Thrushpaw cried, laughing. Codpaw and Brightpaw tackled Thrushpaw in unison. The three transformed into a spinning ball of cats, tumbling past Whalestar and Gingertail. They collapsed onto their backs, laughing at the sky. The rest of the clan was laughing too.
“Troublemakers,” Gingertail purred, standing over them.
After a few more races between warriors, story-keepers, counselors, and various teams of mates, PuffinClan carried their many catches back towards camp just as sunhigh arrived. Ospreystep had finally gotten Troutkit and Dustkit to settle. Murkstream’s eyes glowed inside the dark holy den. Everyone dropped their prey off in the now bulging fresh-kill pile and began to lay down for the next tradition of a mating ceremony; a sunhigh nap.
Murkstream left the holy den with a puffin feather as Thrushpaw passed by her. She glared dispassionately at her apprentice before beginning to bless the camp. It chipped at the shell of happiness surrounding Thrushpaw, but didn’t penetrate. Those with mates laid beside their partner in whatever space they found, with the young and single joining their parents or friends. Bumblepaw replaced Dustkit and Troutkit at Ospreystep’s side, as Deerwhisker took her children to rest with Archpelt. Tawnytide and Cliffstripe entered the empty warrior’s den. Haddockpath sat above them all, guarding her resting clanmates.
Thrushpaw joined his parents and littermates across from the holy den. Brightpaw was curled by her mother like she used to sleep as a kit. Codpaw rested her head on Flounderfire’s leg. Thrushpaw squeezed between them, tail touching Flounderfire and nose in Seabranch’s pelt. He wouldn’t forget the scent of his parents, surely. He’d only be gone for what, a moon? He’d return triumphant with a new seer for PuffinClan.
His dreams were quiet and peaceful as he slept beside his family. He only woke up when a sharp pain cascaded down his tail.
Thrushpaw yowled and jumped up. Dustkit ran out from behind him, tossing a moss ball pass his cheek. Across camp, Troutkit jumped and grabbed the moss ball, rolling to a stop. Thrushpaw shook the sleep out of his eyes. Most of PuffinClan was awake and spreading out the catches from the morning for a grand feast. Codpaw and Flounderfire were already awake, with Seabranch and Brightpaw beginning to stir. Tawnytide and Cliffstripe had places of honor under the boulder with one of the rabbits they managed to catch.
“Dad, do you want to share this mouse?” Codpaw called, taking a mouse out of the fresh-kill pile.
“Part of the feast means mates share prey,” Flounderfire explained, tail patting Codpaw’s back as he approached. “Take the mouse for yourself.”
“Thanks!” Codpaw chirped, scurrying off. Thrushpaw slipped past his father and grabbed a sparrow hidden at the bottom. He glanced around for someone to eat with. Brightpaw had joined Haddockpath and Cormorantpetal. Codpaw took her mouse to Maplesong, who ate his own mouse while Elmpatch talked his ears off. Bumblepaw ate with his mother, and Archpelt with Deerwhisker. Thrushpaw turned to the holy den, where Murkstream watched the clan. He slowly approached his mentor. When he got close, he dropped the sparrow beside her
“Do you want to share?” Thrushpaw asked, head lowered in respect. Murkstream smiled for the first time that day. Thrushpaw took that as a yes and settled beside her.
“I’m sorry I made you mad,” Thrushpaw sighed, letting Murkstream take the first bite of the bird.
“You’re young,” Murkstream huffed. “I should have expected you’d be rebellious one of these days.”
“Did you really mean what you said about Archpelt?” Thrushpaw asked.
“I know it’s not what you wanted to hear,” Murkstream muttered, soundly truly regretful, “but I can’t believe that Archpelt’s lackluster attitude regarding sacred traditions can lead to anything good. In the other clans, seers don’t mate because we are expected to be devoted to StarClan above all else. How can Archpelt fulfill his duties when he has a mate and kits?”
“He’s been a seer for a long time,” Thrushpaw noted.
“But he’s only been able to have a mate and kits for as long as I’ve had my name,” Murkstream pointed out. “He used to be respectable. Now he’s tarnished his standing as a seer. I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever refrained from sharing a message from our ancestors to protect his kin.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Thrushpaw huffed through a mouthful of sparrow.
“I don’t believe you know him well enough to say for certain what he would or would not do,” Murkstream sighed. Thrushpaw lost his appetite. Was he leaving to replace Archpelt?
“You and me, Tawnytide!” Elmpatch laughed. She had finished her meal and was bouncing around Tawnytide. “Let’s see if the molly of the day can beat her sister in a spar! Some friendly fighting!”
“Absolutely not!” Shimmerblaze suddenly interrupted, launching away from Gingertail and Houndcall. They stood protectively in front of Tawnytide. “NO sparring!”
“Why not?” Elmpatch chuckled, cocking her head. Deerwhisker slipped away from her mate with a sly smile, standing beside Tawnytide.
“Well, Shimmerblaze told me yesterday,” Tawnytide laughed. “I barely had time to process before Cliffstripe proposed. It was good timing.” Tawnytide placed a paw on her belly. “I’m expecting kits!” Gingertail and Houndcall screeched with joy, restraining themselves from pouncing on their daughter. A new wave of congratulations and excitement rippled through camp. Tawnytide and Cliffstripe disappeared in the crowd.
“StarClan has noticed my requests,” Murkstream sighed, smiling.
“Hopefully the winter will be gentle,” Thrushpaw gulped.
“We will guide them through it,” Murkstream assured him. All Thrushpaw could do was nod and choke down the hesitation.
Thrushpaw woke up early the next morning. He knew he should have gotten as much sleep as he could, but thoughts swarmed his head and blocked out sleep. Thrushpaw spent most of the night looking through Shimmerblaze’s herbs, trying to remember the few herb lessons the old healer had given him. But as the sun rose, Thrushpaw knew he couldn’t wait long. He’d promised Flowerpaw and Podpaw they would tell Whalestar that morning.
He left the holy den as Archpelt began to wake up. Bumblepaw left the apprentice’s den at the same time, Codpaw and Brightpaw trailing behind. Thrushpaw nodded. The two toms headed for Whalestar’s den. Thrushpaw glanced into the nursery as they walked past. Tawnytide had moved in that night, and Cliffstripe was already awake to see her. Thrushpaw continued on. He’d be back in time to meet the kits. He had to be.
Thrushpaw and Bumblepaw stood outside Whalestar’s den. They could see the elderly leader stretching and getting ready for the day, grooming his pelt. Neither took the first step in.
“What if he says no?” Thrushpaw whispered.
“He won’t,” Bumblepaw insisted. The floppy earred tom took a deep breath. He stuck his head into the den. “Whalestar? Can we talk to you?”
“Huh?” Whalestar huffed, shaking out his pelt. “Who’s there?”
“Bumblepaw and Thrushpaw,” Bumblepaw explained, entering the den. Thrushpaw followed him in, head bowed.
“I thought you were warriors already,” Whalestar muttered, peering at the pair.
“Sir, we wanted your permission for something,” Thrushpaw huffed, trying to look confident.
“Yes, yes, what is it?” Whalestar asked, waving them further into the den. Bumblepaw and Thrushpaw sat where they were.
“Recently, we learned about something called Lone Wandering,” Thrushpaw explained. “It’s apparently a PuffinClan tradition? I heard Gingertail and Houndcall went on one when they were young.”
“Don’t forget me,” Whalestar noted. “When I was a new story-keeper, I wanted to know what life was like beyond our territory. Was gone for three moons.”
“Well sir, Bumblepaw and I have been talking,” Thrushpaw stammered. “I think we want to go Lone Wandering. Not for long, I swear, I think we’d be back in a moon or so, but there’s something we have to do that we can’t do here. That’s what Lone Wandering is for, right?” Whalestar leaned in, examining the two.
“What is it you want to do?” Whalestar asked. Thrushpaw mewed quietly, ears pressed back.
“We aren’t entirely sure, sir,” Bumblepaw admitted. Thrushpaw was ready to give up on the whole thing and just leave for the Stacked Stones. But then, Whalestar’s suspicious gaze turned into a smile.
“You’re old enough to take care of yourselves,” Whalestar purred. “You’ve given me good reasons. I wish you luck!” Whalestar settled back in his nest and groomed his paw.
“Is, uh,” Thrushpaw gulped, “I thought there was a ceremony?”
“Sometimes,” Whalestar chuckled, still grooming. “Sometimes not. I figured you wouldn’t want to make a big fuss. You’ve never liked being the center of attention, Gingertail.”
“What’s wrong with Whalestar?” Bumblepaw whispered, leaning into Thrushpaw’s ear.
“Let’s not wait and find out,” Thrushpaw whispered. He nodded to Whalestar and scurried out of the den. Codpaw and Brightpaw were waiting just outside, pressed against the wall of the den.
“Whalestar sounds out of it,” Brightpaw whispered.
“He never remembers anything lately,” Thrushpaw muttered. “We need to head out if we want to meet up with Flowerpaw and Podpaw. We promised we’d be at the Stacked Stones around sunrise.”
“I should come with you,” Codpaw huffed. “I’m a far better hunter.”
“StarClan didn’t ask for you,” Bumblepaw sighed. “They have a reason for leaving you behind.”
“I’m going to miss you,” Brightpaw whined, rubbing against Thrushpaw. Thrushpaw closed his eyes and purred softly, returning the affection.
“Don’t die on us out there,” Codpaw grunted, gently headbutting Thrushpaw’s side. “You better come back.”
“I promise,” Thrushpaw assured them. “When our parents wake up, tell them what happened. I can’t let them stop us.”
“Same for Ospreystep,” Bumblepaw stammered. Brightpaw pulled away first, putting on a brave face.
“They’ll be up soon,” she mumbled. “Get going.” Thrushpaw nodded. Bumblepaw touched his nose to Brightpaw and Codpaw. With that, the two toms charged across camp, zooming past Snailnose and Tallfur returning from the night guard. Doubt and fear slipped away like a shedding winter coat. As Thrushpaw ran across the fields, he could feel the presence of StarClan watching him. The moon was faint in the morning sky, but he could feel her approval.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” Bumblepaw gasped, pelt bouncing as he ran. Thrushpaw had nothing to say as an overwhelming confidence pushed him onwards. They sailed past empty burrows and flower patches until the Stacked Stones were in sight. Flowerpaw and Podpaw were already waiting for them, watching PuffinClan territory. Thrushpaw scrambled down the hill and jumped over the stones, skidding to a stop in the clearing.
“Were you waiting too long?” Thrushpaw asked as Bumblepaw climbed over the rocks.
“We actually left camp last night,” Flowerpaw admitted.
“Thank you for telling us about Lone Wandering,” Thrushpaw said as Bumblepaw sat beside him.
“If it made it easier to leave your clan,” Flowerpaw sighed.
“Did you have to sneak out?” Bumblepaw asked.
“We left with all of SealClan cheering us on!” Podpaw declared, sitting tall.
“You didn’t,” Thrushpaw gasped.
“Mountainleap said the only way we could leave without panicking the clan was to tell them we were going on a quest,” Flowerpaw explained quickly. “We spent most of last night saying goodbye.”
“Murkstream and Archpelt aren’t supposed to know about the quest!” Thrushpaw groaned, digging a paw into the ground. “Your clan is going to tell them and everything will be ruined!”
“You never said they couldn’t know,” Podpaw huffed.
“Besides, we never mentioned your names,” Flowerpaw added. “They think we’re traveling alone. We weren’t going to run off without explanation.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen if they find out,” Thrushpaw stammered, fur bristling along his spine.
“Thrushpaw, breathe,” Flowerpaw said.
“We can worry about that another time,” Podpaw scoffed. “I say we get going. Four apprentices taking on the world. No one’s going to forget us anytime soon.”
“Don’t be hasty,” Flowerpaw sighed, flicking her brother’s snout. “We’re going to find the path Dad took. Are you two ready?”
“I think so,” Bumblepaw declared, standing. Thrushpaw stood too and steadied his nerves. It was a long journey ahead. There was no room to panic.
Flowerpaw took the lead, with Podpaw walking beside Bumblepaw to ask him about his training. Thrushpaw glanced once more at his home, before setting off.