Sleekpaw raised her m uzzle. “Of course you can!” she declared. “I think the Clans are wrong too. All their borders and rules just make more battles.” She nudged Violetkit.
Violetkit stared at her, surprised.
“You weren’t born in a Clan,” Sleekpaw told her. “Don’t you think it’s weird having so many rules?”
Before Violetkit could answer, Silt leaned forward. “If you weren’t born in the Clan, why do they let you live with them?”
Violetkit blinked at her. “I don’t know.”
Darktail stared at her. “What’s it like living with Clan cats when you know y ou’re an outsider?”
Unease tugged at Violetkit’s belly. She wanted to be loy al to ShadowClan. She thought of Tawny pelt and Puddlepaw. What would Rowanstar say if he knew she was here? He was stern and distant, but she wanted to earn his respect. “I guess it’s okay.” She tried not to remember how lonely she felt in the Clan. How Pinenose’s kits ignored her. How she wasn’t allowed near
Grassheart’s kits in case she passed on an infection. “They try to make me feel welcome.” Her breath caught in her throat.
Darktail leaned closer. “And y et you don’t.”
Violetkit backed away.
Needlepaw padded around Darktail, her chest puffed out. “Rowanstar makes rules about who’s allowed in the Clan and who isn’t. But he’s old and set in his way s. He needs to learn that we’re all just cats. We all want the sam e thing—to hunt and live in peace. But he’s so busy defending his borders, he’s forgotten that.”
Violetkit’s thoughts whirled. Needlepaw sounded so certain. Was she right? They
Chapter 6
Emberfoot and Oatclaw had left at dawn. In the day s since the fight, Jayfeather and Alderpaw had cared for them as though they were Clanmates. Twigkit had been proud to help, fetching m oss for their nests and bringing fresh-kill from the pile. Alderpaw had even let her m ix herbs once when Jayfeather was out of the den.
As soon as the WindClan warriors’ wounds were healed enough for them to travel, they’d returned to their camp. Twigkit had guessed by the prickling of their fur as they talked of going home that they were worried about their Clanmates. The fight with the rogues had unsettled them.
It had unsettled every one. Bramblestar had been sending out larger patrols to hunt and insisted the borders be checked day and night.
“Twigkit!” Lily heart called from outside the nursery. She had settled in a patch of weak sunlight. “Aren’t you sleepy? You were up before dawn. Come and have a nap.”
Twigkit flicked her tail. “No, thanks,” she mewed back. “I’m fine.” She didn’t feel at all tired.
She’d done nothing all m orning apart from wander around the camp: nosing through ferns in hope of catching a frog, and practicing balancing on the fallen beech.
Larkkit, Leafkit, and Honey kit were outside the nursery too, dozing lazily beside their mother, the cool leaf-fall wind ruffling their fur. Twigkit felt a pang of frustration. She knew from experience that it was pointless asking them to play with her. Even when they agreed, they ran so fast and got bored so quickly that she always felt disappointed. She preferred hanging out with Alderpaw. At least she felt she was useful in the medicine den, despite Jayfeather’s scowling at her like she was an unwanted flea. Briarlight loved play ing m oss-ball with her, and it was good exercise for the crippled she-cat. Perhaps she could play with her now.
She padded past the warriors’ den, scanning the camp for a good-sized scrap of m oss.
“Do you really think she’s the cat that StarClan was try ing to tell us about—the one who will clear the sky?”
Rosepetal’s mew drifted through the prickly wall of the den and m ade Twigkit stop. Who was Rosepetal talking about?
Mousewhisker answered her, a y awn in his mew. “For a special cat, she’s pretty ordinary.”
“I guess she
Nothing’s gotten better. In fact, things have gotten worse, with the rogues coming.”