Path Of A Warrior

Tawnypelt looked around. Two of the new apprentices Tigerstar had brought with him from the strange Twolegplace where his kits had been born—Blazepaw and Antpaw—were sharing tongues outside the warriors’ den. Juniperclaw and Scorchfur were picking over the prey in the fresh-kill pile. Slatefur was sharpening his claws on a tree at the edge of camp.

And there were others, all over camp—cats who had been born outside ShadowClan, cats who had betrayed their Clan and their leader for Darktail, cats who had abandoned their dying Clan out of fear and had only just returned to the lake.

“Okay,” Tawnypelt agreed, but deep inside, despite herself, she was thinking: ShadowClan will never be the way it was.

Tawnypelt sneezed. Dust was settling on her fur and getting into her eyes, making them itch. The sun was high overhead. They’d been at this for a long time, and their task was nowhere close to finished.

Scorchfur shoved a wad of moss into a hole in the side of the den, then hissed with annoyance as it immediately fell out again.

“When you put the moss in, hold it there and wait for Stonewing to weave twigs through it to fix it into place,” Tawnypelt recommended.

Ignoring her, Scorchfur picked up the moss with his teeth and jammed it back into the hole. Irritation pricked up Tawnypelt’s spine.

“Stonewing, bring those twigs over here,” she snapped.

The white tom glanced at her, then away, shifting uneasily from one paw to another. “I’m working on this side,” he said.

Digging her claws into the sandy floor of the den, Tawnypelt tried to keep herself from ripping the two toms’ pelts off. “I told you—” she began.

“How’s it going in here?” Tigerstar stuck his head through the den’s entrance. Peering at the walls, he crouched and came all the way in. “You’ll make quicker progress if you work in pairs,” he suggested. “Stonewing, bring those twigs over here. Scorchfur can hold the moss in place and you can weave the twigs through it. It’ll make for a warmer den.”

Scorchfur and Stonewing looked at each other. “Okay,” Stonewing said, and bent to pick up the twigs at his paws.

Hot rage shot through Tawnypelt, so sudden and violent that it frightened her. “I’m taking a break,” she announced, and hurried out of the den. She didn’t stop until she reached the fresh-kill pile, breathing hard.

It’s fine, she tried to tell herself. They don’t have to listen to me. What matters is that ShadowClan has its territory back, and we’re in our own camp again.

When Rowanstar had decided to give up his role as ShadowClan’s leader, she’d wanted very badly to hold her Clan together. But after the battles with Darktail and his Kin, there had been so few ShadowClan warriors left that Rowanstar had felt they’d had to join SkyClan to survive. He’d stopped being a leader, become Rowanclaw again. And then he’d died, trying to save a Clanmate’s kits. Tawnypelt’s grief had been so overwhelming that Tigerstar’s return, and the return of several Clanmates they’d given up for lost, had seemed like a gift.

But reviving a Clan was hard. Rowanclaw was still dead. Some of the ShadowClan cats still resented him for decisions he’d made when Darktail had invaded their territory. And they resented Tawnypelt for standing by him, for loving him.

Some of those same cats betrayed him by joining Darktail, she thought bitterly. Do I even want them as my Clanmates?

Sighing, Tawnypelt picked up a mouse and sat down outside the nursery to eat. I need to be patient.

“Sweet little kits,” she could hear Dovewing purr from inside the nursery. “If I get mine down to sleep, will you watch them while I grab some prey?”

“Sure,” Berryheart sounded distracted. “Does Hollowkit look like he’s getting a cold?”

“He’s fine; don’t worry,” Dovewing said.

Irritation rose up in Tawnypelt again. Doesn’t she care if a ShadowClan kit is ill?

Dovewing hadn’t lifted a paw to help with the camp rebuilding. Yes, her kits were still in the nursery, but they were almost apprentice age; they didn’t need her with them constantly. Dovewing could help if she wanted to.

But why should she? Dovewing’s a ThunderClan cat, even if she’s living in ShadowClan now.

Tawnypelt had been born in ThunderClan, too, but once she had chosen ShadowClan as an apprentice, she had been a ShadowClan cat through and through. More fierce and loyal, with more to prove, than cats who had always been part of the Clan. She doubted that Dovewing felt the same.