Crowfeather's Trial

Crowfeather emerged from behind the bush and dropped into the hunter’s crouch. Using the snow for cover, he crept forward, thrusting his way through and wincing as the cold stuff soaked into his fur. He was acutely conscious of how his dark gray pelt would stand out against the snow, and he didn’t want to alert Heathertail in case she called out to warn the Clan before he was close enough for her to recognize him.

When he was within a few tail-lengths he rose up and called out in a low voice. “Heathertail!”

Heathertail stiffened as she gazed at him, then bounded lightly through the snow until she reached his side.

“Crowfeather! You came back after all!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, but I don’t mean to stay,” Crowfeather responded. He felt slightly embarrassed by the warmth in Heathertail’s voice, and the glow in her blue eyes. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved before, Heathertail. I’m sure you’re figuring out… I’m not always the easiest cat.”

Heathertail’s eyes danced with amusement. “Well, I enjoy a challenge sometimes. Breezepelt isn’t always easy, either.”

Like father, like son, Crowfeather thought. “Speaking of Breezepelt… I need to talk to him, and tell him that I’ve found out where Nightcloud is.”

Heathertail gave a gasp of astonishment. “Really? That’s great! How did you do that?”

Quickly Crowfeather explained how he had met Yew, and how the powerful tabby had told him about meeting Nightcloud on the edge of the Twolegplace. “I think she must be trapped there,” he finished, “and I want Breezepelt to come with me to get her out.”

Heathertail nodded agreement. “I’ll go fetch him for you.” Heading back to the camp, she glanced over her shoulder. “I’m coming too,” she mewed.

While he waited, Crowfeather trudged over to a nearby thornbush and slid underneath the branches. His heart was racing with tension; if any other cat spotted him now, there would be real trouble.

Peering out from his hiding place, Crowfeather thought he spotted a flicker of movement at the edge of the camp. Drawing in a hissing breath, he pressed himself lower to the ground. Everything was still, and for a moment Crowfeather assumed he had been mistaken.

I’m so nervous, I’d run away if a mouse jumped into my paws!

Then a breeze started up, teasing the surface of the snow into little flurries and carrying to Crowfeather a scent that he recognized all too well.

“Okay, Hootpaw,” he mewed. “I know you’re there somewhere. You can come out now.”

Heartbeats later the dark gray tom popped up from behind a rock, scuffled his way through the snow, and skidded into the shelter of the bush beside Crowfeather. His eyes gleamed and his tail was bushed out with excitement.

Oh, StarClan, now what do I do?

“What are you doing out of your den?” Crowfeather asked, fixing the apprentice with a stern glare. With any luck, he didn’t hear anything.

“I only went to make dirt,” Hootpaw excused himself. “But I was so excited to see that you’ve come back — and you’ve found Nightcloud!” The apprentice gave a little bounce. “That’s so great!”

“So you were listening to me and Heathertail!”

For a heartbeat, Hootpaw looked chastened. “I didn’t mean to spy,” he insisted. “I want to come with you! Please, Crowfeather!”

Crowfeather was briefly tempted. He knew how much Hootpaw cared for his former mentor, just as Featherpaw, surprisingly, cared for him. And Hootpaw had learned his battle moves well; he could be an asset if they ran into trouble.

But then Crowfeather realized that it was quite impossible. And he’d had enough of taking apprentices into danger.

“Absolutely not,” he replied. “Take another warrior’s apprentice on a dangerous mission?” It’s a secret mission, too, he reflected. A banished cat sneaking an apprentice out without his leader’s approval! “You must have bees in your brain,” he finished.

Hootpaw’s tail drooped and he blinked in disappointment. “Please, Crowfeather,” he repeated. “I’ll do everything you tell me.”

“I’m telling you no.” Crowfeather slid forward, so close to Hootpaw that his nose almost touched the top of the apprentice’s head. Being tough with him now is the best way to protect him. “And if you breathe a word of this to Onestar,” he continued, “I’ll personally make sure that you wish you’d never left the nursery. Got it?”

Hootpaw’s eyes were wide and scared. “Got it, Crowfeather.” He wriggled out from under the bush and streaked off, back toward the camp.