|| The Prophecies Begin || Book 1 Of 6 || Warriors fanfic

~~Chapter 22~~

I could tell there were severalvcats in the patrol, traveling fast. I couldn't recognize the individual scents of the cats through the earthy bog odors, but I knew it was ThunderClan. I held my breath as the pawsteps raced past and away.

"Are we really going to try to rescue the kits from ShadowClan alone?" whispered Graypaw.

Yellowfang answered him first. "I might be able to find us some help from inside ShadowClan. Not all the cats support Brokenstar."

I pricked up my ears and Graypaw flicked his tail in surprise.

"When he became leader," Yellowfang explained, "Brokenstar forced the elders to leave the security of the inner camp. They had to live on the boundary and hunt for themselves. These are cats who have grown up with the warrior code. Some of them might help us."

I stared into her old eyes, thinking quickly. "And I might be able to persuade the ThunderClan hunting party to help us too," he meowed. "If I can speak to them before they see Yellowfang, I might be able to make them believe her story. Graypaw and Firepaw, you wait at the dead ash, where we smelled the kit blood, till one of us returns."

Graypaw looked worried. "But do you really trust Yellowfang to bring back help?" he murmured to me.

"You must trust me," growled Yellowfang. "I will return."

Graypaw looked at Firepaw, who nodded.

Without another word Yellowfang sprang past the three of us and disappeared into the bushes.

"Have we done the right thing?" asked Graypaw.

"I don't know," I admitted. "If we have, we are heroes and the kits are safe. If we are wrong, then we are as good as dead."

I sprinted after the patrol, around brambles, past gorse, and through nettles. The trail was easy to follow. The angry ThunderClan cats weren't trying to disguise their presence in ShadowClan's territory.

Overhead, the thick layer of cloud had finally rolled away. Beyond the treetops, Silverpelt glittered across the night sky. The moon was just rising, but its cold light couldn't pierce the mist that clung to the shadowy undergrowth.

I concentrated on the scent from up ahead. I could smell Whitestorm. I sniffed again. Tigerclaw wasn't with them. I raced to catch up and skidded to a halt behind the band of ThunderClan cats.

The warriors turned and glared at me, fur bristling, ears flattened aggressively. Darkstripe was with them and the young she-cat Mousefur, as well as the tabby warrior Runningwind. Mousefur wasn't the only she-cat in the patrol—Willowpelt was there too.

"Moonpaw!" growled Whitestorm. "What are you doing here?"

I gasped for breath. "Bluestar sent me!" I panted. "She wanted me to find Yellowfang before—"

Whitestorm interrupted me. "Ah!" he meowed. "Bluestar told me I might find a friend out here. Now I understand what she meant." He looked thoughtfully at me.

"Is Tigerclaw nearby?" I asked, feeling a tingle of pride at our shared gaze.

Whitestorm looked at me curiously. "Bluestar insisted she needed him to remain at camp, to protect the remaining kits."

I nodded quickly, relieved. I meowed urgently, "Whitestorm, I need your help. I can lead you to the kits. Graypaw is waiting for me. We plan to rescue them tonight. Will you come?"

"Of course we'll come!" The warriors flicked their tails with excitement.

"It will mean raiding the ShadowClan camp," I warned.