Squirrelflight twitched her tail. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d answered questions about the Sisters since she’d returned yesterday. “They were nice,” she told him patiently.
Flippaw looked puzzled. “But they held you hostage.”
“Yes, but they shared their prey with us and took care of Leafstar’s wounded paw.” Why were her Clanmates so surprised that cats could be kind and yet still stand up for themselves?
Flippaw tipped his head to one side. “Is that why you didn’t try to escape?”
Squirrelflight swallowed back irritation. “Leafstar’s injury made it hard to escape, and I wasn’t going to leave her.”
“But you said they were nice. She would have been okay.”
“It wouldn’t have been right to escape by myself.” Didn’t young cats understand loyalty?
But Flippaw had moved on. “Were they rogues?” He stared at her intently. “Bristlepaw said they used to be part of Darktail’s Kin.”
“Of course they weren’t.” Squirrelflight flicked her tail sharply. She was relieved to see Hollytuft padding from the fresh-kill pile.
The black warrior looked sternly at Flippaw. “Shouldn’t you be cleaning out the elders’ den?”
His tail drooped. “I wanted to find out about the new Clan.”
“I told you,” Hollytuft mewed. “It isn’t a Clan. It’s just some cats who live near the mountains. Squirrelflight was unlucky to run into them.”
“Why were you near the mountains?” Flippaw blinked at Squirrelflight. “Are we moving there? Thriftpaw says one of the Clans has to move before leaf-bare or we’ll all starve.”
“No one is going to starve.” Hollytuft looked at Squirrelflight apologetically. “Trying to stop apprentices gossiping is like trying to stop birds singing.”
Squirrelflight’s gaze drifted around the clearing. The whole Clan had been talking about her time with the Sisters since she’d gotten back. Now her Clanmates were settling down for a midday meal. Whitewing and Honeyfur carried mice from the fresh-kill pile. Larksong dropped a vole at Dewnose’s paws. Finleap and Twigbranch settled beside the warriors’ den, snatching glances at Squirrelflight before tucking into a rabbit. Rosepetal blinked at her sympathetically, as though she’d just recovered from an illness.
Graystripe sat beside Millie outside the elders’ den. Millie looked gaunt, and Graystripe sat close to her. “You must be glad to be back, Squirrelflight,” he called across the clearing. “Another cat’s food never tastes as good as your own.”
“Imagine!” Cloudtail stretched beside him. “A group of cats with no toms. Who’s heard of such a thing? I hope they didn’t give you any ideas.” He blinked teasingly at Squirrelflight. “I don’t know what Graystripe and I would do if Millie and Brightheart threw us out.”
Millie purred roughly. “The den would be a lot neater.”
Graystripe nudged her cheek with his nose. “But you’d miss me, right?”
Millie nosed him away, her eyes shimmering with affection. “Of course I would, you old fool.” For a moment the fragility that had appeared in the old she-cat’s face since the start of greenleaf vanished.
Small stones showered from the rock tumble, and Squirrelflight looked up to see Bramblestar scrambling down from the Highledge. She looked away to avoid catching his eye. Since she’d returned from the Sisters’ camp, he’d been polite but formal. Her heart ached at being kept at tail’s length, but she understood why he was still angry. She’d caused a lot of worry and disruption in the Clan. But she wished he hadn’t told her he was thinking about replacing her as deputy. She’d been taken captive by the Sisters only because she had been trying to find a way to keep the peace among the Clans. He wanted peace too. Why couldn’t he support her plan instead of criticizing her for it?
“Squirrelflight.” He padded toward her, his gaze cool.
She dipped her head. “Bramblestar.”
“Who do you plan to send on dawn patrol tomorrow?” He glanced around the Clan.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Bramblestar frowned and padded softly into the shadow of the Highledge. He beckoned Squirrelflight closer with a twitch of his tail. “I thought I asked you to let me know in advance of any decisions you make as deputy,” he mewed, lowering his voice.
Anger flared in her belly. “I never decide who’s going on patrol until the morning,” she told him icily. “I like to see who’s awake. It’s no use waking one warrior when another warrior is already itching to get out into the forest.”
“That’s sloppy. A warrior should know if he’s going on patrol and be ready.” Bramblestar’s ears twitched. “From now on, I want to know who’s going out on dawn patrol the night before.”
Squirrelflight flexed her claws. “Is that how it’s going to be now? Are you going to make up mouse-brained rules just to prove you’re in charge?”
“You’re my deputy,” he told her. “I need to know that you can follow orders.”
“Or you’ll replace me. I know. I get the message.” Squirrelflight glared at him.
Bramblestar met her gaze evenly. “I need to know I can trust you.”
