A Dangerous Path by Erin Hunter

the hunting crouch. Snowkit seemed to be having fun, rolling over and batting at his mother with his paws, but he wasn’t copying her movements with any accuracy.
    Fireheart watched them with growing sadness. “It might be for the best.” He sighed after a moment. “If Speckletail realizes for herself that Snowkit can’t learn, it might help her accept that he’ll never be a warrior.”
    â€œMaybe.” Brackenfur didn’t sound convinced. “I’d like to watch them for a bit, anyway, and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”
    Fireheart studied him approvingly. Though Brackenfur had not been a warrior for many moons, he had the serious air of a much older cat. He was ready for an apprentice, and Fireheart was sure he would make a fine mentor—patient and responsible. But not for Snowkit. Fireheart knew that the deaf kit could never have a mentor, would never travel to Gatherings, or know the fierce joy of being a warrior in the service of his Clan.
    However, as long as there were no other kits in need of mentors, it wouldn’t hurt to let Brackenfur take an interest in Snowkit. “That’s fine, provided it doesn’t interfere with your warrior duties,” Fireheart mewed. “If you think of anything, let me know. I’ll talk to Cinderpelt again.”
    â€œThanks, Fireheart,” meowed Brackenfur. He settled himself on the ground, paws tucked neatly under his chest, and went on watching Speckletail and Snowkit.
    Fireheart hesitated, feeling sad for the deaf kit and his mother, and for Brackenfur, whose hopes of becoming a mentor would be disappointed this time. Then he turned away to go and find Bluestar.
    The Clan leader was lying on her bedding in the far corner of her den. The sunlight did not reach her there, and she looked like a gray shadow. But the remains of a squirrel showed that she had eaten, and as Fireheart paused on the threshold, she was twisting her head around to wash her back. Fireheart felt encouraged by these signs of a normal routine.
    He scraped his claws on the ground to draw her attention, and when she turned to look at him he meowed, “Bluestar,may I come in? I’ve something to report.”
    â€œNothing good, I suppose,” Bluestar mewed sourly. Fireheart flinched at her tone, and the leader seemed to relent. “All right, Fireheart, come in and tell me what’s on your mind.”
    â€œWe think there’s a dog loose in the forest.” Fireheart described the first time Whitestorm had discovered the scattered prey near Snakerocks, what his patrol had seen that morning, and the rabbit remains that Whitestorm had found near Fourtrees.
    Bluestar sat in silence, staring at the wall, until Fireheart finished. Then her head snapped around to face him. “Near Fourtrees? Where?”
    â€œBy the RiverClan border, Whitestorm said.”
    Bluestar let out a snarl and dug her claws into the floor of her den. “Yes—I see it all!” she spat. “WindClan have been hunting on our territory.”
    Fireheart stared at her. “I’m sorry, Bluestar. I don’t understand.”
    â€œThen you’re a fool!” Bluestar growled. Suddenly she seemed to relax. “No, Fireheart, you are a good and noble warrior. It’s not your fault that you can’t imagine the treachery of others.”
    What does she mean? Fireheart thought. Has she forgotten that I was the one who told her about Tigerstar?
    His mind spinning, he realized that this wasn’t one of Bluestar’s good days. Her eyes were staring and her fur bristling as if rows of enemies stood in front of her. Perhaps, in her confusion, she thought they were.
    â€œBut Bluestar,” Fireheart protested, “everywhere we found the scraps of prey, we scented dog. There’s no reason to think that other Clans are responsible.”
    â€œMouse-brain!” Bluestar hissed, her tail lashing from side to