Outcast by Erin Hunter

scent oftwo strange cats. It seemed as if Graystripe and his patrol had caught a couple of rogues trespassing on ThunderClan territory. Jaypaw tasted the air carefully. The scent was strong, but with a bitter tinge that seemed familiar, though he couldn’t remember where he had smelled it before.
    Concentrating fiercely, Jaypaw tried to pull the newcomers’ feelings into himself as if he was drawing in their scent. He could sense fear, suspicion, and an overwhelming desperation. It had been difficult for them to come here, yet they’d had no choice.
    They need something from ThunderClan!
    Before any cat spoke, there was the sound of more cats approaching through the tunnel. It was Stormfur and Brook, with fresh-kill in their jaws.
    â€œTalon! Night!” Brook exclaimed, dropping the vole. “What are you doing here?”
    Cloudtail spoke first, his voice sharp with suspicion. “You mean you know these cats?”
    â€œFirestar, these are the cats we scented near the WindClan border,” Hollypaw broke in, before either of the strangers could reply. “Brambleclaw sent us to warn you about intruders.”
    â€œThey’re not intruders.” Leafpool spoke calmly as she emerged from her den, her pelt brushing Jaypaw’s. “They come from the Tribe of Rushing Water.”
    Firestar bounded down the rocks that led to his den. “Of course! It’s Talon of Swooping Eagle, isn’t it, and Night of No Stars?”
    â€œThat’s right,” a quiet, accented voice replied.
    Jaypaw sensed the tension in the clearing begin to relax. He could make out a few murmurs of recognition coming from the older ThunderClan cats, the ones who had made the Great Journey and stayed with the Tribe of Rushing Water in the mountains.
    â€œI knew I’d seen that black she-cat somewhere before,” Dustpelt muttered.
    â€œI wonder what they want?” Sorreltail asked; she sounded puzzled rather than hostile.
    â€œI suppose we’ll soon find out,” Brackenfur replied. “It must be important, for them to come all this way.”
    â€œStormfur, Brook.” Firestar spoke again. “Bring your prey over to the fresh-kill pile. You must want to catch up with old friends.”
    â€œIt doesn’t look much like it,” Hollypaw whispered into Jaypaw’s ear; she had bounded up to him while he was concentrating on the voices. “Brook seems really upset, and Stormfur looks as if he’s got a bit of crow-food under his nose.”
    â€œHe just gave Brook a nudge,” Lionpaw added, padding up in his turn. “She doesn’t want to go near them.”
    Jaypaw could tell from his littermate’s paw steps that he was still stiff from his wounds from the fight with Ashfur. Yet he sensed pride coming from Lionpaw, too, as if he knew he had fought well.
    â€œThey’re touching noses now,” Hollypaw reported softly. “But they still look as if—”
    Jaypaw didn’t hear the rest of what she said. Suddenly the ground lurched beneath his paws and he felt blood pounding in his ears. The stench of blood was in his nose. Scarlet light washed over him and he realized that he could see.
    On every side he was jostled by fighting cats. He could hear their screeching and the slash of claws through fur. Blood spattered against his pelt, hot and sticky. Underpaw the ground was hard stone; Jaypaw’s claws scrabbled on it as he tried to keep his balance. His paws were splayed across a tilted boulder, sliding slowly downward. He scrambled across a narrow crevice, barely saving himself from being trapped, then caught a glimpse of a sheer drop beneath him and nothing ahead but the open sky, stained bloodred as the sun went down.
    Dizzy from the height and the fierceness of the battle, Jaypaw felt as though his paws were frozen to the rock. Where was he? This was no dream, and yet the clearing by the lake had vanished as if it had never been. He