Eclipse

“If you must,” Mousefur grumbled. “Though I don’t know why you had to wait until I was eating to bring that foul stuff over.” She nodded at the moss. Lionpaw guessed that it was soaked in mouse bile.

“I thought you might be sleeping earlier, and I didn’t want to wake you.” Patiently, Jaypaw began to nuzzle through Mousefur’s pelt. He paused to tear some moss from the ball and pressed it into the fur near the base of her tail.

Lionpaw watched his brother. He seemed completely different from the resentful young cat who had never wanted to be a medicine cat’s apprentice. And yet he’s more powerful than any of his Clanmates. Lionpaw climbed onto the halfrock and lay down, pressing his belly against the sun-warmed stone. Perhaps knowing he’s so powerful makes boring tasks easier to bear. He wondered how many moons it had been since Jaypaw had crept into Firestar’s dream and overheard the stranger predicting the birth of three kits with the power of the stars in their paws. Would the frustration gnawing in his own belly ease with time, once he’d gotten used to the prophecy, as Jaypaw had done?

He glanced up at Highledge as Firestar picked his way down the tumble of rocks, Sandstorm following. The ThunderClan leader had never given any clue that he knew of the prophecy. He had only ever treated Lionpaw, Hollypaw, and Jaypaw as if they were three ordinary apprentices. Lionpaw watched as Firestar picked a mouse from the pile and passed it to Sandstorm before taking a sparrow for himself. What does he really feel? Lionpaw suddenly wished he had Jaypaw’s powers to see into Firestar’s mind. Was he proud to have them as his kin? Pleased that his Clan would be safe forever, guarded by such powerful cats? Or was he anxious, as Jaypaw feared, about having cats more powerful than himself in the Clan?

The thorn barrier shivered as Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw padded through, followed by Foxpaw and Berrynose.

“The borders are quiet,” Brambleclaw called to his leader.

“But the sunset patrol should check the WindClan border closely. By the smell of it, they’ve been hunting in the woods on their side.”

Firestar was settling down beneath Highledge, Sandstorm at his side. “It looks like they’ve developed a taste for squirrel,” he remarked.

Cinderpaw, sharing a pigeon with Honeypaw, looked up eagerly. “Can I go out on sunset patrol?” Now that her injured leg was recovered enough to return to apprentice duties, she seemed keen to take on any task, as though making up for lost time.

“Yes.” Brambleclaw nodded. “I was going to ask Graystripe to lead it.”

“Did someone mention Graystripe?” Millie padded from the nursery, blinking sleep from her eyes.

Graystripe was repairing a tear in the nursery wall where winds had unraveled the carefully threaded brambles. “Are you okay?” He looked closely at Millie. She was fat with her kits, which were expected any day now.

“Fine.” Millie picked up two mice from the fresh-kill pile.

“I’d just rather share a meal outside with you.” She carried the meal to where Firestar and Sandstorm lay. Graystripe tucked in a final tendril with his paws and hurried to join her.

A thrush thudded onto the ground beside the halfrock, surprising Lionpaw. Hollypaw stood over it, staring at him.

“I thought you might want to share,” she mewed. Was this her way of apologizing? Lionpaw doubted it. He suspected that his sister didn’t realize how bossy she could be. But he was grateful anyway. However alone he felt, knowing about the prophecy, he had to remember that Hollypaw and Jaypaw shared it too. As long as he had his littermates, he would never truly be alone.

“Thanks,” he purred, settling down to eat.

Birchfall and Whitewing were sharing prey with Brackenfur, while Thornclaw and Spiderleg stretched out nearby, their meals already finished. This was the first time since the journey to the mountains that the Clan had eaten together, and Lionpaw began to feel more at ease. Nothing had really changed, he told himself hopefully.

“So how were the Tribe?” Firestar asked Brambleclaw.

The ThunderClan deputy swallowed a mouthful of fresh-kill. “They’ve a hard leaf-bare ahead of them,” he meowed.

“But I think they’re going to be okay.” Lionpaw narrowed his eyes. Was his father as confident as he sounded?

“Do you think they’ll be able to defend the borders you made?” Thornclaw asked.

Squirrelflight shrugged. “We trained them as well as we could.”

“Which will be very well, if I know you,” Graystripe chipped in.

“They stand more of a chance now than they did when we first got there,” Brambleclaw meowed. “It was hard for them to get used to the idea of marking such distinct borders around a portion of where they hunted before, but I hope they understand how important it is for them to fight for what they have.”