The Beginning Prophecy: Firestarter

Chapter Twenty Six

Pawsteps approached from behind while Spottedleaf watched her kits exit the camp. They shared quick words with the guards before disappearing into the forest with a flick of their tails.

"Spottedleaf," it was Bluestar who had padded up. "I want you to go out and hunt for our guests. They fought well against ShadowClan and deserve full bellies as much as any ThunderClan cat. I expect you to rest afterwards."

Spottedleaf respectfully dipped her head to the leader. "Yes, Bluestar." She mewed, beginning to walk away.

"Wait," Bluestar hissed.

Spottedleaf turned around and expectantly met her icy gaze. The leader's eyes blazed back at her.

"Spottedleaf," she hissed. "How is Firepaw's training coming along?"

Spottedleaf blinked, startled by the urgency that seemed to drip from the question. "As well as any Clanborn apprentice's. Why?"

"StarClan spoke to Mossfall moons ago, before Firepaw joined the Clan. They told her only fire could save ThunderClan."

A mystified feeling washed over Spottedleaf as she stared at Bluestar. Her strange words echoed in her mind, mingling with those of Redtail. While neither made sense to her, both spoke of fire. Why had they shared such words with her? Fire was a sure enemy to every living creature of the forest.

Spottedleaf shook her head to collect her thoughts. "Redtail came to me recently," she confessed. "The night before ShadowClan attacked. He said that I should let the fire guide me."

Bluestar's blue eyes continued to burn with an indescribable passion. "Firepaw is a very important cat. He will play a vital role in ThunderClan's future. I can feel it. You must train him well, Spottedleaf."

Bluestar had given Firepaw such a prefix, knowing precisely why-that he was the destined cat whom the stars had spoken of, the tortoiseshell realized. But why had she selected Spottedleaf as his mentor? Surely another cat was better suited to train a cat who was the heart of a prophecy, who held the very future of ThunderClan in their paws.

The weight on Spottedleaf's shoulder grew heavier, and a chill crawled down her spine at her leader's intensity. "Yes, Bluestar."

The blue-gray she-cat dipped her head, and bounded over to her den.

Spottedleaf trotted out of camp, letting her paws carry her up the ravine and into the shade of the towering trees. She uneasily flicked her tail. StarClan must be restless if they have been so active in these past moons. Perhaps they are trying to tell me something.

***

Dusk had fallen by the time Spottedleaf returned to camp. She slipped silently in through the gorse tunnel, carrying the wood pigeon she had caught to the WindClan toms who sat patiently outside their den. Sorrelshine crouched beside them.

The den had skillfully been woven together with sticks and brambles, and covered in leaves to protect its residents from the approaching cold. The roof was supported by the arching roots of the elder's fallen tree. Inside were three moss nests, though only two of them appeared disturbed.

Spottedleaf set the bird at their paws. Her mouth was watering and belly growling thanks to the fresh and intoxicating aroma of the prey that flooded her senses. "I'm sorry about the wait. Not many creatures are active at sunset."