Darkest Night

CHAPTER 7

Outside the camp wall, Twigpaw pulled up another fern frond. Earth showered her paws as she shook out the roots and laid it on the pile beside her. She would soon have enough to line every nest in the apprentices’ den. She shivered and fluffed out her fur. The clear sky had brought colder weather. She hoped Violetpaw and Hawkwing had found somewhere sheltered to spend the night.

At least they would come home to cozy dens. The juniper bush was rainproof at last, and Twigpaw had helped Fallowfern and Sandynose weave the bramble walls of the warriors’ den so thickly that no draft could get through. While Fallowfern and Sandynose had turned their attention to the clump of ferns that would become the elders’ den, Twigpaw had begun to build nests for Violetpaw, Reedpaw, Dewpaw, and herself. She hadn’t started Finpaw’s nest yet. He was still recovering in the medicine den.

Leafpool had told her that Finpaw was healing well but his spirits were low. Plumwillow had sat with him until he’d sent her away, and now he refused to have any visitors. Twigpaw had asked to see him, but Leafpool told her that he probably needed time to come to terms with losing part of his tail.

Paw steps pattered behind her. “Look at all the moss I’ve collected.” Dewpaw dumped a heap beside her. “Reedpaw’s followed the stream to find more. We are going to have the softest nests in the whole camp.”

“Perhaps we should take some to Finpaw,” Twigpaw suggested.

Dewpaw rolled his eyes. “Don’t make him too comfortable or he’ll never move out of the medicine den.”

“He doesn’t want to be there,” Twigpaw mewed defensively.

“Really?” Dewpaw sniffed. “I got the idea that he’s sort of enjoying feeling sorry for himself.”

Dewpaw sounded unsympathetic, but Twigpaw could see worry in the gray tom’s eyes. “Did he refuse to see you again today?” she asked gently.

“Yes.” Dewpaw sat down heavily. “I know it’s terrible that he lost part of his tail. I don’t know how I’d feel in the same situation. But he still has half of it, and being sad won’t help.”

“Leafpool says he needs time.”

“I need my brother.” Dewpaw looked despondently at the moss he’d gathered. “We should be sharing a den. It took us so long to become apprentices—we were so excited when it finally happened.” He glanced beseechingly at Twigpaw. “Would you go and see him?”

Twigpaw looked away, her pelt suddenly hot. “He won’t want to see me either.”

“Of course he will,” Dewpaw mewed eagerly. “If it weren’t for you, he might have died. You pulled him clear of the branch.”

“Not entirely clear,” Twigpaw mewed guilty.

“Clear enough.” Dewpaw leaned closer. “He won’t be able to send you away.”

“You mean he has to see me to be polite.”

“Exactly.” Dewpaw leaned back on his haunches. “I bet you can cheer him up.”

Twigpaw pulled up another fern, avoiding Dewpaw’s gaze. “Do you think so?” she asked shyly.

Dewpaw narrowed his eyes. “You like him, don’t you?”

“No!” Twigpaw shriveled inside her pelt. “He’s just a friend, that’s all.”

“We’re friends.” Dewpaw poked her. “But your fur doesn’t twitch when you talk about me.”

Twigpaw poked him back. “My fur does not twitch!”

Dewpaw changed the subject. “I hope some of those are for my nest.” He nodded at the pile of ferns.

“Of course.” Twigpaw blinked at him gratefully. She didn’t like being teased about Finpaw. “Let’s take them into the den, then I’ll see if Finpaw will let me visit.”

“Great.” Dewpaw got to his paws. “By the time you return from the medicine den, I’ll have our nests finished. We can start on Finpaw’s nest. When he moves in and Violetpaw gets back, it’ll be like a real apprentices’ den. Especially if they bring back more SkyClan cats.” He paused. “Perhaps we should make extra nests, just in case they find some apprentices.” He grabbed his pile of moss between his jaws and headed toward the camp entrance.

Twigpaw bundled the fern fronds together and began to drag them after him. Her thoughts wandered. Dewpaw, Reedpaw, and Finpaw had been so lucky, growing up together. If only ShadowClan had let Violetpaw stay in ThunderClan. Perhaps she would have ended up more like me. Twigpaw pushed the thought away. Sighing, she heaved the fronds to the entrance of the juniper bush.

“Twigpaw!” Dewpaw called from inside. “Reedpaw’s back.”

Reedpaw poked her head out of the den. “I found so much moss!” Her eyes shone. “It’s a bit damp, but it will dry out soon.”

Lost in thought, Twigpaw stared blankly at the small tabby she-cat. Would the journey to the gorge make Hawkwing and Violetpaw even closer?

Dewpaw pushed his way out of the den and began to rummage through Twigpaw’s pile of ferns. “Perhaps we should spread out the moss in the sunshine so it can dry while we’re weaving these.” He paused as he saw Twigpaw’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shook out her fur. She was being dumb. So what if Hawkwing and Violetpaw were close? SkyClan was a great home. She was living with kin at last. And Dewpaw was great. Reedpaw was friendly. And there was Finpaw. She glanced toward the medicine den, her heart quickening. “I’ll go and see him now,” she told Dewpaw.

“Say hi from me.”

As Dewpaw disappeared back inside the juniper bush, Twigpaw marched to the hollow beneath the cedar and stopped outside. “Leafpool?”

No cat replied. Twigpaw tasted the air. Leafpool’s scent was stale. She must be out gathering herbs or hunting. “Finpaw?” She mewed softly through the lichen, which Leafpool had draped over the entrance.

Ferns rustled inside.

“Are you awake?” she called softly.

“I am now.” Finpaw sounded grumpy.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t want any visitors.”

Twigpaw sniffed. She’d hung out with Alderheart long enough to know that no cat was cured by loneliness. “I’m coming in anyway.” She pushed though the lichen.

Finpaw lay in his nest, his stunted tail sticking over the edge. It was wrapped in moss and cobweb, and smelled of marigold. Twigpaw was relieved to see how much of it was left. She blinked at Finpaw. His fur was sleek and his nose and ears were clean. Apart from his injured tail and the shadows in his eyes, he looked fine. “You look well.”

Finpaw avoided her gaze. “I’m half a tail away from being well.”

Twigpaw sat beside him, her chest aching with sympathy. But she kept any trace of pity from her voice. “In ThunderClan, we had a cat with a broken spine. She’s the most cheerful cat in the Clan.”

“Good for her,” Finpaw muttered.

“What do you need a whole tail for anyway?” Twigpaw persisted.

“Um . . . to balance?” Finpaw snapped.

“Only mouse-brains need a tail to help them balance.”

“Then I must be a mouse-brain.”

“You really don’t want visitors, do you?” Twigpaw swallowed back frustration. “I hope you’re not this mean to Leafpool.”

Finpaw didn’t answer.

Twigpaw looked at the young tom, his face turned away. She wanted to cheer him up. She’d been thinking about him ever since his accident. It was heartbreaking to see that his spirit had been as crushed as his tail. He’d been so cheerful and open. Now he was as snarly as a fox. “If only I’d been able to pull you clear,” she mewed without thinking. Sadness flooded her chest. Perhaps if she’d tugged harder when the branch was falling, she could have saved him from this.

Finpaw blinked at her, alarmed. “You’re not supposed to be sad,” he mewed urgently.

Twigpaw was confused. “Why not?”

Finpaw raised himself up on his front paws. “Because you’re never sad. That’s why I like you.”

Twigpaw didn’t know what to say. She looked at her paws. “Dewpaw says hello. He’s helping me make nests in the apprentices’ den. He wants you to move there as soon as you can.” She glanced at him shyly. “I want you there too. I was the only apprentice in ThunderClan. Sharing a den will be fun.”

“Fun?” Finpaw seemed to brighten. “Have you heard Dewpaw snore?”

“He snores?” Twigpaw played along.

“He could outsnore a badger.” Finpaw assured her. “Reedpaw says he could wake a hibernating bear.”

“Perhaps I should gather some extra moss,” she mewed. “To stuff in my ears.”

Finpaw’s whiskers twitched with amusement.

Twigpaw pricked her ears happily. “You’re going to be fine.”

He glanced at his tail. “Leafpool keeps telling me that I’m lucky I only lost half of it.”

Twigpaw caught his eye. “What happened to the other half?”

“Puddleshine said he was going to bury it.”

“Bury it?” Surprise twitched through Twigpaw.

Finpaw gave her a mischievous look. “Perhaps we should find its grave and sit vigil.” There was a purr in his mew.

“We could mark it with a stone and visit every leaf-fall to pay our respects.”

“Here lies Finpaw’s tail,” Finpaw mewed solemnly. “It died protecting its Clan.”

“Perhaps it’s in StarClan right now, lying in the sunshine,” Twigpaw joked.

“There must be other tails there. I hope it’s made friends,” Finpaw mewed.

Twigpaw nudged his shoulder fondly with her nose. “You’ve got bees in your brain.”

“You started it.”

As he nudged her back, the lichen swished and Leafpool padded through the entrance. She blinked happily at Twigpaw. “I see you’ve decided to have visitors after all,” she mewed to Finpaw.

“Twigpaw barged in.” Finpaw mewed.

“I promised Dewpaw I’d see how he was.” Twigpaw didn’t admit how much she’d wanted to see Finpaw.

“You’ll have to leave in a moment,” Leafpool told her. “I’m going to dress his wound.”

“Can’t she stay?” Finpaw begged. “If I have someone to talk to, it’ll take my mind off it.”

“Does it hurt?” Twigpaw asked.

“Kind of,” Finpaw murmured.

“Okay,” Leafpool agreed. “I’ll be back in a moment. I just want to soak these leaves in the stream.” She grabbed a pile of herbs and headed out of the den.

Finpaw shifted in his nest, making himself comfortable. “Are you missing Violetpaw and Hawkwing?”

“Yeah.” Twigpaw wrapped her tail over her paws. “It feels strange being in a new camp without them. Kind of like I’m in the wrong place.”

“I think everyone feels a bit out of place at the moment. But Sandynose says it’ll start to feel like home soon.” Finpaw’s eyes rounded with curiosity. “Leafpool says that you and Violetpaw were raised by different Clans. I didn’t know that. You seem so close.”

“We are close,” Twigpaw told him. “And now we get to live together, now that we’ve found Hawkwing.”

“I like Hawkwing.” Finpaw’s gaze grew distant as though he were thinking. “He’s reassuring.”

“Yeah.”

“Sandynose was missing when we were born, so Hawkwing kind of helped take care of us.”

“Sandynose went missing?” Twigpaw hadn’t heard about this.

“We thought we’d never meet our real father. But we had Hawkwing. He was nice.”

Twigpaw blinked at him sympathetically.

Finpaw looked thoughtful. “You’re quite like him.”

“Violetpaw’s more like him than me.”

“Yes,” Finpaw agreed. “But you and Hawkwing are more like Clan cats than Violetpaw. Sometimes she seems uncomfortable in her own fur and unsure of herself. You have the same confidence as Hawkwing. And you’re brave and loyal like he is. And kind.”

“I am?” She looked at him.

“Sure.”

As Twigpaw’s fur tingled at the compliment, Leafpool nosed her way into the den. Wet leaves dripped from her jaws. She draped them over the edge of the nest, beside Finpaw’s tail. “I’ll get the dressing changed as quickly as I can.” She promised. “But I need to make sure the wound’s clean before I dress it again.”

“I’ll distract him,” Twigpaw leaned closer to Finpaw, trying not to look at his tail as Leafpool began to peel away the cobwebs.

Finpaw winced.

“What games do kits play in SkyClan?” Twigpaw asked quickly.

“Hide-and-seek, warrior and prey, hide the beechnut . . .”

“I played those too.” Twigpaw felt pleased that all Clan kits were the same, wherever they’d been born. “But in ThunderClan we played hide the pebble. And Violetpaw probably played hide the pinecone in ShadowClan.”

Leafpool moved to her herb store and pulled out a long strand of cobweb.

“Did you ever have a chance to play with Violetpaw?” Finpaw asked.

“We played lots before we were separated. But afterward, we couldn’t.” Twigpaw longed to tell him about sneaking out of camp with Alderheart to meet Needletail and Violetpaw, but she was aware of Leafpool, who was wrapping a fresh dressing around Finpaw’s tail. She didn’t want to get Alderheart in trouble.

Finpaw shifted in his nest. “When she gets back, we can play hide the pinecone with her and Dewpaw and Reedpaw,” Finpaw mewed.

“Aren’t we a bit old?”

“Of course not!”

As Finpaw purred, Leafpool sat back on her haunches. “I’ve finished,” she told him.

“Already?” He looked around at his tail, surprised. “That hardly hurt at all.”

“It’s healing well,” Leafpool told him.

“And I had good company.” Finpaw blinked warmly at Twigpaw.

She felt heat beneath her pelt, and blinked back self-consciously.

“You’re well enough to start getting some exercise.” Leafpool brushed the herb scraps away with her tail.

Twigpaw’s tail twitched excitedly. “I could show you the forest! The Sky Oak and the old Twoleg nest . . .” As she spoke, she realized that she wasn’t in ThunderClan anymore. She didn’t know SkyClan territory any better than Finpaw did. “Or we could explore together,” she corrected herself quickly.

Finpaw’s yellow eyes shone. “That would be great.”

Leafpool licked green herb pulp from her paw. “You shouldn’t leave camp for a few days,” she advised. “Not until your wound has healed properly.”

“That’s okay,” Twigpaw mewed brightly. “There’s plenty to do in camp. I think I saw a fish in the stream yesterday. It was just a small one, but it would be fun to catch.”

Leafpool wrinkled her nose. “You sound like a RiverClan cat.”

“We’re not going to eat it,” Twigpaw purred.

“We’ll throw it back,” Finpaw agreed.

Leafpool shook her head. “You’ll have to catch it first.”

Twigpaw glanced at Finpaw. Her heart seemed to skip as he held her gaze. She wondered if he could possibly be as excited as she was at the thought of spending time together.