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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As we headed out of the camp, we nearly crashed into Whitestorm, who was leadingSandpaw and Runningwind into the forest for the dawn patrol.
"Sorry!" panted Fireheart. He stopped, and I skidded to a halt beside him. Whitestorm dipped his head.
"I hear you three are going on a mission," he said.
"Yes," Fireheart replied.
"Then may you have StarClan's protection," Whitestorm gravely murmured.
"What for?" Sandpaw sneered. "You off to catch voles?"
"Oh! Dear no! They won't need it. They have me." I made sure to snarkily smirk at her.
Runningwind snorted and leaned into Sandpaw's ear to tell her something. Her expression changed and the annoyance in her green eyes switched to guarded curiosity.
The patrol stepped aside to let us pass. We raced on and climbed up the side of the ravine. Fireheart and Graystripe shared a few words as they followed the route through the forest to Fourtrees, saving their breath for the long journey ahead. I decided not to talk to get myself in the mood for the long journey we were facing. We paused at the top of the steep slope on the far side of the oak-shaded clearing, our horses' sides heaving from the long climb.
"Is it always windy up here?" grumbled Graystripe, swiping back his incredibly thick hair against the blast of cold air that swept across the uplands.
"I suppose there aren't any trees to block it," Fireheart pointed out, squinting slightly. His hair was in his face too. This wasWindClan's territory. I lifted my head to smell the air and caught a whiff of something that wasn't supposed to be there.
"Do you smell RiverClan warriors?" Fireheart murmured uneasily. He smelt it too.
Graystripe lifted his nose. "No. Do you think there might be some here?"
"Maybe. They might want to make the most of WindClan's absence, especially since they knowWindClan will be back soon," I warned.
"Well, I can't smell anything now," whispered Graystripe. We walked watchfully along a frozen turf trail sheltered by heather.
A fresh scent stopped Fireheart's horse in its tracks. It snorted and threw its head up.
"Easy boy. Can you smell that?" he hissed to me.
"Yeah," whispered Graystripe, flattening himself against his horse.
"RiverClan!" Fireheart leads us into the bushes. Beside me, Graystripe lifted his head to peer over the bushes.
