of rabbit scent and birds. “But what’s happened to all their prey?” No other Clan was fast enough to steal rabbits from WindClan territory.
Brackenfur tipped his head toward the sheep and dogs mewling and barking on the distant slope. “Perhaps they scared the rabbits and birds away.”
Hollypaw felt her belly tighten. “That doesn’t mean WindClan can steal our prey.” Things couldn’t change. There had to be four Clans around the lake. If WindClan’s territory couldn’t support them, what would happen to the other boundaries?
As soon as they reached camp, Brambleclaw and Sandstorm leaped up to Highledge to report what they’d found.
Hollypaw spotted Lionpaw, tail-down at the edge of the clearing. A large wad of tatty moss hung from his jaws, and scraps clung to his pelt.
“You’re not still cleaning out the elders’ den, are you?” she mewed.
Lionpaw spat out the moss. “I finished that ages ago,” he snapped. “I’m doing the nursery now.”
“Let me help you,” Hollypaw offered.
“I thought you were too busy going on border patrols.”
Hollypaw flicked her brother’s ear with her tail. “Don’t be grumpy! I’ve cleaned out my fair share of nests.”
“I guess.” Lionpaw grunted.
“Let’s get this dirty moss out of the camp and gather some fresh.” She picked up a mouthful of the old moss and padded out through the thorn tunnel. Stopping at a bramble bush not far from the entrance, she dropped it.
Lionpaw flung his wad down beside hers. “I’m sick of moss!”
“We’ll be finished in no time,” Hollypaw soothed. “Look!
There’s fresh moss between the roots of that tree.”
Lionpaw joined her as she began clawing pawfuls of soft, green moss away from the rough bark.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Hollypaw mewed.
Lionpaw sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been in a foul mood since you left. I’m no better than a jealous kit.”
“Well, ask now,” Hollypaw prompted. She was dying to share her news.
“Okay. What happened?” Lionpaw peeled a long strip of moss and let it dangle from his claw.
“Ashfoot turned us back before we got anywhere near the camp.”
Lionpaw dropped the moss. “Turned you back?”
“We didn’t even get a chance to explain,” Hollypaw told him. “They accused us of coming to steal prey.”
“But they’ve been stealing our prey!” Lionpaw was furious.
“I know!” Hollypaw clawed a lump of moss from the root and flung it onto the pile. “But I think we found out why they’re doing it.”
“Who cares why?”
Hollypaw ignored his comment. “Their own prey has disappeared.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“But at least we know what’s wrong now.” We can solve the problem before it spoils everything.
“I hope Firestar sends a patrol to teach them a lesson.”
Hollypaw fought the urge to agree. She must think logi-cally. WindClan had to be stopped from stealing prey, but not weakened. There had to be four strong Clans. “Firestar doesn’t think we should attack them,” she mewed. “He’s just going to post more border patrols.”
Lionpaw lashed his tail. “We’ve done that before. This time we need to show them once and for all that they can’t hunt on our land.” He glared at her so fiercely that Hollypaw found herself leaning away.
“Do you want a battle?” She gasped. Was he even thinking about Clan boundaries?
“Don’t you?”
“I want WindClan to keep to their own territory,” Hollypaw replied. “Boundaries are boundaries.” And if they disappear, what will become of the Clans? Would the warrior code disappear next?
Hollypaw’s pads prickled with fear.
Lionpaw turned away and dug his claws into a fresh patch of moss. The bark shredded beneath it and filled the moss with splinters.
That moss will be used for newborn kits! Hollypaw stared at him, shocked by his recklessness. She could tell by the muscles flex-ing beneath his pelt that he was thinking of battle, not kits.
Was this
Brackenfur tipped his head toward the sheep and dogs mewling and barking on the distant slope. “Perhaps they scared the rabbits and birds away.”
Hollypaw felt her belly tighten. “That doesn’t mean WindClan can steal our prey.” Things couldn’t change. There had to be four Clans around the lake. If WindClan’s territory couldn’t support them, what would happen to the other boundaries?
As soon as they reached camp, Brambleclaw and Sandstorm leaped up to Highledge to report what they’d found.
Hollypaw spotted Lionpaw, tail-down at the edge of the clearing. A large wad of tatty moss hung from his jaws, and scraps clung to his pelt.
“You’re not still cleaning out the elders’ den, are you?” she mewed.
Lionpaw spat out the moss. “I finished that ages ago,” he snapped. “I’m doing the nursery now.”
“Let me help you,” Hollypaw offered.
“I thought you were too busy going on border patrols.”
Hollypaw flicked her brother’s ear with her tail. “Don’t be grumpy! I’ve cleaned out my fair share of nests.”
“I guess.” Lionpaw grunted.
“Let’s get this dirty moss out of the camp and gather some fresh.” She picked up a mouthful of the old moss and padded out through the thorn tunnel. Stopping at a bramble bush not far from the entrance, she dropped it.
Lionpaw flung his wad down beside hers. “I’m sick of moss!”
“We’ll be finished in no time,” Hollypaw soothed. “Look!
There’s fresh moss between the roots of that tree.”
Lionpaw joined her as she began clawing pawfuls of soft, green moss away from the rough bark.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Hollypaw mewed.
Lionpaw sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been in a foul mood since you left. I’m no better than a jealous kit.”
“Well, ask now,” Hollypaw prompted. She was dying to share her news.
“Okay. What happened?” Lionpaw peeled a long strip of moss and let it dangle from his claw.
“Ashfoot turned us back before we got anywhere near the camp.”
Lionpaw dropped the moss. “Turned you back?”
“We didn’t even get a chance to explain,” Hollypaw told him. “They accused us of coming to steal prey.”
“But they’ve been stealing our prey!” Lionpaw was furious.
“I know!” Hollypaw clawed a lump of moss from the root and flung it onto the pile. “But I think we found out why they’re doing it.”
“Who cares why?”
Hollypaw ignored his comment. “Their own prey has disappeared.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“But at least we know what’s wrong now.” We can solve the problem before it spoils everything.
“I hope Firestar sends a patrol to teach them a lesson.”
Hollypaw fought the urge to agree. She must think logi-cally. WindClan had to be stopped from stealing prey, but not weakened. There had to be four strong Clans. “Firestar doesn’t think we should attack them,” she mewed. “He’s just going to post more border patrols.”
Lionpaw lashed his tail. “We’ve done that before. This time we need to show them once and for all that they can’t hunt on our land.” He glared at her so fiercely that Hollypaw found herself leaning away.
“Do you want a battle?” She gasped. Was he even thinking about Clan boundaries?
“Don’t you?”
“I want WindClan to keep to their own territory,” Hollypaw replied. “Boundaries are boundaries.” And if they disappear, what will become of the Clans? Would the warrior code disappear next?
Hollypaw’s pads prickled with fear.
Lionpaw turned away and dug his claws into a fresh patch of moss. The bark shredded beneath it and filled the moss with splinters.
That moss will be used for newborn kits! Hollypaw stared at him, shocked by his recklessness. She could tell by the muscles flex-ing beneath his pelt that he was thinking of battle, not kits.
Was this
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