She thought she had lost everything. He thought he had everything. She wished no one loved her. He wished everyone would love him. She just wanted the battle to be over. He wanted it to go on forever. She wanted to give up. He never let her. She wa...
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Firepaw and I peered over the brow of a bush-covered slope. Graypaw and Ravenpaw crouched beside us. Next to us, a group of ThunderClan elders, queens, and warriors waited in the undergrowth for Bluestar to give the signal. Firepaw and I had not been to this place since our first journey with Lionheart and Tigerclaw.
The steep-side glade looked different now. The rich greenness of the woods had been bleached away by the cold light of the full moon, and the leaves on the trees glowed silver. At the bottom stood the large oaks that marked where the corner of each Clan's territory touched the other three.
"Look at all those people down there!" hissed Ravenpaw under his breath.
Graypaw pointed at a man with Chesnut-colored hair sitting beside The Great rock.
I gulp. Even from this distance, his old face showed the signs of a harsh life and his mouth looked twisted as if it had once been broken and had healed badly.
"Hey!" says Graypaw. "Did you see Sandpaw spit when I told her I hoped she had a nice evening at home?"
"You bet!" Firepaw grinned. Ravenpaw interrupted them with a muffled growl.
"Look! There's Brokenstar—ShadowClan's leader," he hissed.
He had a broad flattened face, cold amber eyes, and lots of muscles. There was a stillness in the way he sat and stared around him that made my neck hair prickle uncomfortably.
"He looks pretty nasty," Firepaw muttered.
"Yeah," agreed Graypaw. "He's certainly got a reputation among all the Clans for not suffering fools gladly. And he's not been leader that long—four moons, ever since his father, Raggedstar, died."
Midnight stomped her foot. I pat her neck and scratch between her ears.
