Warriors: High Tides

Chapter 9

Rookheart didn't remember when he'd fallen asleep, but when he awoke, his mind was spinning. He'd shared a dream with the warriors of StarClan - a humble Warrior! He flicked his tail eagerly, ready to leave. Waspwhisker stood and stretched, wide belly hanging pendulously below her.

His long black legs stretched out below him, and he turned his ears toward the leaders, who were also recovering from their unplanned nap. Batstar recovered first, and raised himself high. "I suppose it's high time you got a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, you leave, at daybreak." He looked at the other leaders, who nodded calmly.

Rookheart flicked his tail back and forth, sighing softly. I'm going to miss ShadowClan, he thought as Maplestar trotted past him, sparing them of the sappy goodbye. He sighed as the leaders dissapeared across the treebridge, into the shadows of the Gathering night.

For a while all the cats were silent, grooming themselves or chewing idly on grass to sate their gnawing hunger.

This seemed to get Thistlepaw thinking. "Where do you think our new territories will be?" She piped up.

Gorsewhisker looked up, glancing at the apprentice. "Well, I want to be in a plains like WindClan is." He meowed, flicking his tail. "Or maybe a thin forest."

Bramblefoot perked. "A nice, thick forest." She meowed. "Full of undergrowth."

Ivystream hesitated in thought. "A hidden gorge," She meowed guardedly. "With lots of fish and rocks to stalk among."

Rookheart blinked curiously. "I would say a forest, but honestly, I don't know." He admitted. "What if the New Territories are nothing like the Lake?" He meowed. "What if we have to discover new ways to live?"

"What other ways to live are there?" Gorsewhisker meowed absently as he groomed Harekit's fur, the small brown kit wiggling in his grasp.

"I'm sure there are lots." Thistlepaw mewed, twitching her small tail. "I mean, the Tribe of Rushing Water lives in the mountains, right? The Clans wouldn't last a moon up where they are. We're too different."

Rookheart nodded in agreement. "We may have to decide on new ways to live, when StarClan tells us we've found our territory." He meowed.

Waspwhisker, who was dozing behind him, now spoke rather suddenly. "Will StarClan move skies for us?"

There was total, bewildered silence as this sunk in. StarClan showed themselves for us, he thought. Does that mean they'll abandon the Old Clans in favor of the new?

He sighed and groomed one paw nervously. "Maybe some StarClan warriors will travel with us, as ambassadors, and the older spirits will stay here with the Old Clans."

They seemed to agree on this idea, nodding slowly. "Maybe Harekit's mother will travel with us," Gorsewhisker commented, "And Ternpaw."

Rookheart cringed. He'd remembered when little Ternpaw had hit the ground, the pathetic little thump that had signaled her demise. He had been horrified. He couldn't even imagine what Gorsewhisker felt like.

He curled up into a ball, thin tail draped over his nose. "I'm going to sleep," He announced, "And you guys should, too. It's a big day tomorrow."

They all agreed unanimously on this statement, and all of the Clan representatives curled up and started to try and doze off. Rookheart's heart was pounding in his chest.

Will the New Clans have new names? he pondered thoughtfully. Most likely. There can't be two ShadowClans, can there?

Those were his final thoughts before he fell asleep, nervously awaiting the arrival of the day he would turn his tail to the Lake Valley and go on a huge expedition that hadn't been done in over 100 years.

In fact, the last time such a feat was tried, the four Clans were founded.