River Of Fire

It’ll be fine once we get to the camp, she reassured herself. Bramblestar will understand. He has to!

The sun had gone down by the time the cats reached the thorn barrier that stretched across the entrance to the hollow, and twilight brought the chill of early leaf-fall. Sparkpelt pushed past the apprentices to lead the way down the tunnel.

“Follow me,” she mewed curtly.

When Twigpaw emerged into the stone hollow, the whole of ThunderClan seemed to be there. Her heart warmed as she saw so many familiar faces: Cherryfall and Molewhisker sharing a piece of prey beside the fresh-kill pile; Blossomfall sitting with Cinderheart at the entrance to the nursery while their kits frisked and play wrestled around their paws; Graystripe and Millie stretched out drowsily side by side in front of the hazel bush where they slept; Leafpool and Jayfeather earnestly discussing something beside the bramble screen that shielded their den.

With a swish of her tail Sparkpelt beckoned the two apprentices a few paces farther into the camp, then signaled for them to halt. “Wait here,” she ordered.

Twigpaw watched her as she bounded across the hollow and scrambled up the tumbled rocks to the Highledge, where she disappeared into Bramblestar’s den.

“I hope everything’s going to be okay,” Twigpaw murmured.

“Of course it will.” Finpaw nuzzled her shoulder briefly. “Bramblestar would have to have bees in his brain not to want you in his Clan.”

Before Twigpaw could reply, Sorrelstripe slid out of the warriors’ den and headed toward the thorn tunnel, only to come to an abrupt stop as she spotted Twigpaw and Finpaw.

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Twigpaw’s here!”

Her surprised yowl alerted every cat in the camp. Cats in the open sprang to their paws, while more pushed their way out of the warriors’ den. All of them crowded around Twigpaw and Finpaw, until Twigpaw felt that she could hardly breathe in the midst of so many bright, questioning eyes and twitching whiskers.

“I thought I caught a familiar scent.” Brackenfur gave Twigpaw a friendly nod. “It’s good to see you, Twigpaw.”

“Why are you here?” Fernsong asked.

“Is there trouble in SkyClan?” Lionblaze slid out his claws. “Do you need our help?”

Twigpaw swallowed hard, her pelt prickling with nervousness. Every cat was looking at her expectantly. “No, SkyClan is fine,” Twigpaw replied. “But I’ve left them. I’ve come home to live in ThunderClan.”

Utter silence greeted her announcement for a couple of heartbeats, followed by an outbreak of astonished yowling.

“Coming home? Your home is in SkyClan now.”

“What about your kin?”

“Who is this SkyClan cat with you?”

Berrynose, at the front of the crowd, looked down at Twigpaw with a disdainful twitch of his whiskers. “You chose to leave, and now you want back in?” he demanded. “Can we ever trust you again?”

Murmurs of agreement came from several other cats.

Twigpaw wished that the ground would open up and swallow her, until she spotted movement from the medicine cats’ den. With a gasp of relief she recognized Alderheart pushing his way through the cluster of cats to stand at her side.

Thank StarClan! Alderheart practically raised me. He’ll understand.

“Of course we can trust her,” Alderheart meowed, his dark ginger pelt beginning to bristle as he faced Berrynose. “Of course we want her back! She was raised in ThunderClan, so she’s one of us.” His amber eyes were warm and supportive as he gazed at her.

Twigpaw felt as if the sun had just come out from behind a cloud when she heard Alderheart call her “one of us.” Aware that some of her former Clanmates were still hostile, she tried to hide her sudden happiness by bowing her head and studying her paws. But Alderheart’s praise made her feel warm from her ears to her tail-tip.

I’ve missed Alderheart so much since I left ThunderClan!

“Twigpaw!”

A commanding yowl rang out across the camp. Twigpaw looked up to see Bramblestar standing on the Highledge with Sparkpelt by his side. He beckoned Twigpaw with his tail. “Come up here,” he ordered. “You and I must talk.”

Twigpaw exchanged an uncertain glance with Finpaw. Will he be okay if I leave him here by himself?

Then Alderheart gave her a gentle push. “Go on,” he meowed. “I’ll look after Finpaw. Let’s find you some prey,” he added to the young tom. “You must be hungry.”

“Starving!” Finpaw agreed fervently.

Reassured, Twigpaw hurried across the camp and began to climb the tumbled rocks. Sparkpelt passed her heading downward; she said nothing, but gave Twigpaw an unfriendly stare.

“Come into my den,” Bramblestar invited Twigpaw when she reached the Highledge.