Squirrelflight dipped her head. “I will do what I can.” Even as she promised, doubt gnawed at her belly. Maybe once, with Bramblestar on her side, she could have persuaded the Clans to keep their claws sheathed, for a while at least. But their experience with Darktail had made the Clans more wary. His Kin had posed as a harmless group of rogues, too—but then they’d infiltrated ShadowClan and eventually taken it over. Before he was done, they’d taken RiverClan’s land as well, and horribly mistreated the cats in their care. Many cats died in the battle to defeat him, and ShadowClan was nearly destroyed. All the Clans had become more hostile to outsiders and less open to reason as a result. She knew the Sisters were no threat, but she wasn’t sure that she could convince the Clans to leave them in peace.
CHAPTER 12
In the days since the Sisters had left the camp, she’d volunteered for every patrol. She wanted to keep busy. She was leading a hunting patrol now. They hadn’t had much luck so far, finding prey scarce around the beech grove, but as they headed closer to the edge of the forest, prey-scents were becoming thicker. Ivypool paused beside her and watched Twigbranch and Finleap sniff their way through the ferns that pooled in a patch of sunlight.
Twigbranch lifted her head and called over the browning fronds. “There are squirrel scents here, but they’re stale.” She looked into the canopy. “Prey must be busy today building nests for leaf-bare.”
Ivypool padded forward, pushing between the ferns. “They have to come out to find fresh bedding, just like we do.”
Twigbranch shrugged. “If they do, they’re not looking for it here.”
Squirrelflight nodded toward the edge of the forest, where bright sunshine lit the trunks. “We could check the land beyond the stream.”
“The moorland?” Ivypool looked unconvinced.
Finleap pricked his ears hopefully. “Moorland prey might be less shy.” As he swished through the ferns, heading for the light, Twigbranch hurried after him.
“I don’t see the point of hunting on the moorland.” Ivypool fell in beside Squirrelflight as they followed the younger cats. “We’ll be giving it back soon.”
“Only if SkyClan agrees to move,” Squirrelflight told her. “And even then, we have to wait for the Sisters to leave their camp.”
“Not if Tigerstar goes ahead with his plan to chase them off,” Ivypool reminded her.
Squirrelflight’s belly tightened. “He promised to wait for word from StarClan.” Bramblestar hadn’t sent Jayfeather and Alderheart to consult with StarClan yet, and she guessed he was delaying on purpose. He didn’t want any news that would encourage Tigerstar to start a war with the Sisters. Besides, Bramblestar already knew what StarClan thought.
Had the other Clans sent medicine cats to the Moonpool? Would StarClan give them the same message? Squirrelflight couldn’t help but consider what that might mean:
Judging from the silence from beyond ThunderClan’s borders, Squirrelflight guessed that no message had been shared. But waiting was making her nervous. How long would Bramblestar resist the call to war against the Sisters if StarClan sent word to the other Clans?
She was heartened that he hadn’t done more than send the Sisters back to their camp. He clearly wasn’t prepared to push them farther away. Not yet, at least. Squirrelflight fluffed out her fur. He’d behaved with similar restraint in their relationship. Bramblestar kept his distance, eating and hunting with others, only speaking to her about Clan business, but he hadn’t asked her to leave his den. They both slept there each night, in separate nests, sharing the silence.
Watching Sparkpelt’s belly swell and her pelt grow glossier had sharpened Squirrelflight’s grief at not having her own kits. The hope that she might have another litter with Bramblestar seemed to grow more remote with each passing day.
