For generations, four clans have shared the forest. But ThunderClan is in severe peril, and the other three Clans grow stronger every day. In the midst of this turmoil, appears two house-cat's named Rusty and Star... who both may turn out to be the...
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⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱
WHEN WHITEROSE AWOKE the den felt damp and chilled. One sniff of the air told her rain was on its way. She sneezed and pushed her way outside, yawning. She hadn't slept well, her body aching because of her chill.
Hardly anyone was in the camp. Fireheart must be training with apprentices with Tigerclaw. A hunting patrol must be gone as well. Bluestar was outside her den with Goldenflower and the kits and other queens must be keeping warm in their dens.
Whiterose felt like she needed to get out of camp today, so she padded her way through the entrance tunnel and out into the open.
To her surprise, she saw Fireheart padding around the outside of the camp, sniffing at the bracken.
"What are you doing?"
Fireheart looked up at her with wide eyes but relaxed when he realised it was just his sister. "I was—"
"You were investigating where Graystripe was running off to, weren't you?"
Fireheart nodded solemnly. "He's been sneaking out this way." He pointed with his tail. Whiterose nodded and lead the way. "Let's go."
They made their way toward the training hollow and both hoped he was just going there to practice or something. But when the trail veered away from the path, Whiterose knew that her brothers hope had been in vain. With an ominous sense of dread, she saw the distinctive grey rock loom ahead through the trees: Sunningrocks.
Fireheart pricked his ears and opened his mouth, testing the breeze for the smell of enemy cats. He brushed furs with Whiterose as they walked together. But then they stopped when they saw a glimpse of a broad-shouldered grey cat slipping past the rocks, toward the RiverClan border. There was no doubt now where Graystripe was heading.
As soon as their friend was out of sight, Fireheart and Whiterose padded forward and peered down the slope to the river. By the swaying of the undergrowth, Whiterose could guess where Graystripe was. She just hoped there weren't any RiverClan warriors watching, too.
They made their way down through the fronds. The river wasn't frozen anymore – she could hear the water lapping at the bank and splashing over the boulders. They slowed their pace and reached the edge of the bracken and peered out at the open shore.
Graystripe was sitting on the pebbles. The grey warrior was looking around, his ears pricked, but Whiterose could tell from the relaxed slope of his shoulders that he wasn't listening for prey.
A strange cat's call sounded in the distance and Whiterose felt her brother tense. Was a RiverClan patrol coming? Their fur prickled with anxiety but Graystripe didn't move. Then Whiterose heard a rustle in the bracken beyond the river. Still, Graystripe stayed where he was. The two littermates held their breath as a face appeared on the far riverbank. With barely a sound, the silver she-cat emerged from the undergrowth and slipped into the water.
Silverstream!
She swam easily across the river. Graystripe stood up and mewed with delight, kneading the pebbles with his paws in anticipation. Holding his tail high, he padded to the edge of the water as she climbed onto the shore.
Silverstream shook the drops from her fur, and the two cats touched noses gently. Graystripe rubbed his muzzle along her jaw and she lifted her chin happily. Then Silverstream stood on tiptoe and wound her slender body around his. For once, Graystripe didn't mind to get wet at all, because he purred loud enough for a shocked Fireheart and Whiterose to hear as Silverstream pressed her damp fur against him...
