Path Of A Warrior

dappled golden she-cat

WILLOWSHINE

—

gray tabby she-cat

WARRIORS

MINTFUR

—

light gray tabby tom

APPRENTICE, SOFTPAW

(gray she-cat)

DUSKFUR

—

brown tabby she-cat

APPRENTICE, DAPPLEPAW

(gray-and-white tom)

MINNOWTAIL

—

dark gray-and-white she-cat

APPRENTICE, BREEZEPAW

(brown-and-white she-cat)

MALLOWNOSE

—

light brown tabby tom

BEETLEWHISKER

—

brown-and-white tabby tom

APPRENTICE, HAREPAW

(white tom)

CURLFEATHER

—

pale brown she-cat

PODLIGHT

—

gray-and-white tom

HERONWING

—

dark gray-and-black tom

SHIMMERPELT

—

silver she-cat

APPRENTICE, NIGHTPAW

(dark gray she-cat with blue eyes)

LIZARDTAIL

—

light brown tom

HAVENPELT

—

black-and-white she-cat

SNEEZECLOUD

—

gray-and-white tom

BRACKENPELT

—

tortoiseshell she-cat

APPRENTICE, GORSEPAW

(white tom with gray ears)

JAYCLAW

—

gray tom

OWLNOSE

—

brown tabby tom

ICEWING

—

white she-cat with blue eyes

ELDERS

MOSSPELT

—

tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat

Maps

Chapter One

A fresh breeze carried the smellof rabbit, and Tawnypelt’s mouth watered. She tasted the air thoughtfully, following the tantalizing scent.

There. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there from the scent and from tiny sounds: the slight crackle of bracken, the rabbit’s hurried breathing, the pounding of its heart. The prey was huddled in a clump of bracken near the base of a big pine tree. The sweet scent of pine resin, so dear to Tawnypelt, filled her nostrils.

It’s good to be home, she thought. It feels like I’ve been gone for moons!

She crouched, fixing her eyes on the rabbit’s hiding place, and began to slink closer, her paw steps silent. She knew the forest floor like the back of her paws; she knew where to step to keep her approach silent. She was quite close to the rabbit when a loud crack sounded from the bracken: Her prey must have scented her. It bolted out of the undergrowth, but she could easily predict where it would go. She pounced. One strong bite to its neck, and the rabbit fell, limp beneath her.

Tawnypelt picked up her prey, satisfied. This would make a fine meal for her Clanmates.

The sun was climbing into the sky as she slid through the thorn tunnel and past the boulder into camp, the rabbit dangling from her jaws.

“Tawnypelt!” Dawnpelt was washing herself outside the warriors’ den. Tawnypelt’s heart warmed at the sight of her. Oh, Dawnpelt, where have you been? It felt like ages since she had seen her kit. “Nice catch!”

“Oh, good, I’m starving,” Pinenose said cheerfully, getting to her feet. Her sides were rounded and she moved heavily. Her kits, Tawnypelt thought. Has she really not had them yet? It’s been a long time. It feels like …

The thought hit her suddenly: Something’s wrong. Tawnypelt dropped the rabbit in the fresh-kill pile and stared, puzzled, at her Clanmates and at the peaceful camp. Dawnpelt shouldn’t be here. And Pinenose … Tawnypelt remembered those kits being born. There’d been four, hadn’t there? They’d taken a long time coming, and Pinenose had borne the pain bravely.