A half-moon glowed on smooth granite boulders, turning them silver. The silence was broken only by the ripple of water from the swift black river and the whisper of trees in the forest beyond.
There was a stirring in the shadows, and from all around lithe dark shapes crept stealthily over the rocks. Unsheathed claws, wings, and horns glinted in the moonlight. Wary eyes flashed like amber. And then, as if on a silent signal, the creatures leaped at each other, and suddenly the rocks were alive with wrestling, screeching cats.
At the center of the frenzy of fur and claws, a massive rainbow tabby pinned a pink-colored she-cat to the ground and drew up her head and wings triumphantly. “Pinkie Pie!” the tabby growled. “How dare you hunt in our territory? The Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!”
“After tonight, Rainbow Dash, this will be just another RiverClan hunting ground!” the pink colored cat spat back.
A warning yowl came from the shore, shrill and anxious. “Look out! More RiverClan warriors are coming!”
Rainbow Dash turned to see sleek wet bodies sliding out of the water below the rocks. The drenched RiverClan warriors bounded silently up the shore and hurled themselves into battle without even stopping to shake the water from their fur.
The rainbow tabby glared down at Pinkie. “You may swim like otters, but you and your warriors do not belong in this forest!” She drew back her lips and showed her teeth as the cat struggled beneath her.
The desperate scream of a ThunderClan she-cat rose above the clamor. A wiry RiverClan tom had pinned the tan warrior flat on her belly. Now he lunged toward her neck with jaws still dripping from his swim across the river.
Rainbow Dash heard the cry and let go of Pinkie. With a mighty leap, she knocked the enemy warrior away from the she-cat. “Quick, Bon Bon, run!” she ordered, before turning on the RiverClan tom who had threatened her. Bon Bon scrambled to her paws, wincing from a deep gash on her shoulder, and raced away.
Behind her, Rainbow Dash spat with rage as the RiverClan tom sliced open her nose. Blood blinded her for an instant, but she lunged forward regardless and sank her teeth into the hind leg of her enemy. The RiverClan cat squealed and struggled free.
“Rainbow!” The yowl came from a warrior with a tail as red as fox fur. “This is useless! There are too many RiverClan warriors!”
“No, Big Mac. ThunderClan will never be beaten!” Rainbow Dash yowled back, leaping to Big Mac's side. “This is our territory!” Blood was welling around her broad cyan muzzle, and she shook her head impatiently, scattering scarlet drops onto the rocks.
“ThunderClan will honor your courage, Rainbow, but we cannot afford to lose any more of our warriors,” Macintosh urged. “Luna would never expect her warriors to fight against these impossible odds. We will have another chance to avenge this defeat.” He met Rainbow Dash's rose-eyed gaze steadily, then reared away and sprang onto a boulder at the edge of the trees.
“Retreat, ThunderClan! Retreat!” he yowled. At once his warriors squirmed and struggled away from their opponents. Spitting and snarling, they backed toward Big Mac. For a heartbeat, the RiverClan cats looked confused. Was this battle so easily won? Then Pinkie Pie yowled a jubilant cry.
As soon as they heard her, the RiverClan warriors raised their voices and joined their deputy in caterwauling their victory.
Mac looked down at his warriors. With a flick of his tail, he gave the signal and the ThunderClan cats dived down the far side of the Sunningrocks, then disappeared into the trees.
Dash followed last. She hesitated at the edge of the forest and glanced back at the bloodstained battlefield. Her face was grim, her eyes furious slits. Then she leaped after his Clan into the silent forest.
In a deserted clearing, an old blue she-cat sat alone, staring up at the clear night sky. All around her in the shadows she could hear the breathing and stirrings of sleeping cats.
A small yellow she-cat emerged from a dark corner, her pawsteps quick and soundless. The blue cat dipped her horn in greeting. “How is Bon Bon?” she meowed.
“Her wounds are deep, Luna,” answered the Pegasus cat, settling herself on the night-cool grass. “But she is young and strong; she will heal quickly.”
“And the others?”
“They will all recover, too.”
Luna sighed. “We are lucky not to have lost any of our warriors this time. You are a gifted medicine cat, Fluttershy.” She tilted her horn again and studied the stars. “I am deeply troubled by tonight’s defeat. ThunderClan has not been beaten in its own territory since I became leader,” she murmured. “These are difficult times for our Clan. The season of newleaf is late, and there have been fewer kits. ThunderClan needs more warriors if it is to survive.”
“But the year is only just beginning,” Fluttershy pointed out calmly. “There will be more kits when greenleaf comes.”
The blue cat twitched her broad wings. “Perhaps. But training our young to become warriors takes time. If ThunderClan is to defend its territory, it must have new warriors as soon as possible.”
“Are you asking StarClan for answers?” meowed Fluttershy gently, following Luna's gaze and staring up at the swath of stars glittering in the dark sky.
“It is at times like this we need the words of ancient warriors to help us. Has StarClan spoken to you?” Luna asked.
“Not for some moons, Luna.”
Suddenly a shooting star blazed over the treetops. Fluttershy's wings twitched and the fur along her spine bristled.
Luna's ears pricked but she remained silent as Fluttershy continued to gaze upward.
After a few moments, Fluttershy lowered her head and turned to Luna. “It was a message from StarClan,” she murmured. A distant look came into her eyes. “Fire alone can save our Clan.”
“Fire?” Luna echoed. “But fire is feared by all the Clans! How can it save us?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “I do not know,” she admitted. “But this is the message StarClan has chosen to share with me.”
The ThunderClan leader fixed her clear blue eyes on the medicine cat. “You have never been wrong before, Fluttershy,” she meowed. “If StarClan has spoken, then it must be so. Fire will save our Clan.”
It was very dark. Applebloom could sense something was near. The young cat’s eyes opened wide as she scanned the dense undergrowth. This place was unfamiliar, but the strange scents drew her onward, deeper into the shadows. Her stomach growled, reminding her of her hunger. She opened her jaws slightly to let the warm smells of the forest reach the scent glands on the roof of her mouth. Musty odors of leaf mold mingled with the tempting aroma of a small furry creature.
Suddenly a flash of gray raced past her. Applebloom stopped still, listening. It was hiding in the leaves less than two tail-lengths away. Applebloom knew it was a mouse—she could feel the rapid pulsing of a tiny heart deep within her ear fur. She swallowed, stifling her rumbling stomach. Soon her hunger would be satisfied.
Slowly she lowered her body into position, crouching for the attack. She was downwind of the mouse. She knew it was not aware of her. With one final check on her prey’s position, Applebloom pushed back hard on her haunches and sprang, kicking up leaves on the forest floor as she rose.
The mouse dived for cover, heading toward a hole in the ground. But Applebloom was already on top of it. She scooped it into the air, hooking the helpless creature with her thorn-sharp claws, flinging it up in a high arc onto the leaf-covered ground. The mouse landed dazed, but alive. It tried to run, but Applebloom snatched it up again. She tossed the mouse once more, this time a little farther away. The mouse managed to scramble a few paces before Applebloom caught up with it.
Suddenly a noise roared nearby. Applebloom looked around, and as she did so, the mouse was able to pull away from her claws. When Applebloom turned back she saw it dart into the darkness among the tangled roots of a tree.
Angry, Applebloom gave up the hunt. She spun around, her orange eyes glaring, intent on searching out the noise that had cost her her kill. The sound rattled on, becoming more familiar. Applebloom blinked open her eyes.
The forest had disappeared. She was inside a hot and airless kitchen, curled in her bed. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows on the smooth, hard floor. The noise had been the rattle of hard, dried pellets of food as they were tipped into her dish. Applebloom had been dreaming.
Lifting her head, she rested her chin on the side of her bed.
Her pink bow rubbed uncomfortably around her neck. In her dream she had felt fresh air ruffling the soft fur where the bow usually pinched. Applebloom rolled onto her back, savoring the dream for a few more moments. She could still smell mouse. It was the third time since full moon that she’d had the dream, and every time the mouse had escaped her grasp.
She licked her lips. From her bed she could smell the bland odor of her food. Her owners always refilled her dish before they went to bed. The dusty smell chased away the warm scents of her dream. But the hunger rumbled on in her stomach, so Applebloom stretched the sleep out of her limbs and padded across the kitchen floor to her dinner. The food felt dry and tasteless on her tongue. Applebloom reluctantly swallowed one more mouthful. Then she turned away from the food dish and pushed her way out through the cat flap, hoping that the smell of the garden would bring back the feelings from her dream.
Outside, the moon was bright. It was raining lightly. Applebloom stalked down the tidy garden, following the starlit gravel path, feeling the stones cold and sharp beneath her paws. She made her dirt beneath a large bush with glossy green leaves and heavy purple flowers. Their sickly sweet scent cloyed the damp air around her, and she curled her lip to drive the smell out of her nostrils.
Afterward, Applebloom settled down on top of one of the posts in the fence that marked the limits of her garden. It was a favorite spot of hers, as she could see right into the neighboring gardens as well as into the dense green forest on the other side of the garden fence.
The rain had stopped. Behind her, the close-cropped lawn was bathed in moonlight, but beyond her fence the woods were full of shadows. Applebloom stretched her head forward to take a sniff of the damp air. Her skin was warm and dry under her thick coat, but she could feel the weight of the raindrops that sparkled on her yellow fur.
She heard her owners giving her one last call from the back door. If she went to them now, they would greet her with gentle words and caresses and welcome her onto their bed, where she would curl, purring, warm in the crook of a bent knee.
But this time Applebloom ignored her owners’ voices and turned her gaze back to the forest. The crisp smell of the woods had grown fresher after the rain.
Suddenly the fur on her spine prickled. Was something moving out there? Was something watching her? Applebloom stared ahead, but it was impossible to see or smell anything in the dark, tree-scented air. She lifted her chin boldly, stood up, and stretched, one paw gripping each corner of the fencepost as she straightened her legs and arched her back. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of the woods once more. It seemed to promise her something, tempting her onward into the whispering shadows. Tensing her muscles, she crouched for a moment. Then she leaped lightly down into the rough grass on the other side of the garden fence. As she landed, the bell on her bow rang out through the still night air.
“Where are you off to, Applebloom?” meowed a familiar voice behind her.
Applebloom looked up. A young tan cat was balancing ungracefully on the fence.
“Hello, Twist,” Applebloom replied.
“You’re not going to go into the woods, are you?”
Twist's eyes were huge.
“Just for a look,” Applebloom promised, shifting uncomfortably.
“You wouldn’t get me in there. It’s dangerous!” Twist wrinkled her black nose with distaste. “Henry said he went into the woods once.” The cat lifted her head and gestured with her nose over the rows of fences toward the garden where Henry lived.
“That fat old tabby never went into the woods!” Applebloom scoffed. “He’s hardly been beyond his own garden since his trip to the vet. All he wants to do is eat and sleep.”
“No, really. He caught a robin there!” Twist insisted.
“Well, if he did, then it was before the vet. Now he complains about birds because they disturb his dozing.”
“Well, anyway,” Twist went on, ignoring the scorn in Applebloom’s mew, “Henry told me there are all sorts of dangerous animals out there. Huge wildcats who eat live rabbits for breakfast and sharpen their claws on old bones!”
“I’m only going for a look around,” Applebloom meowed. “I won’t stay long.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you!” purred Twist. The cat turned and plunged off the fence back down into her own garden.
Applebloom sat down in the coarse grass beyond the garden fence. She gave her shoulder a nervous lick and wondered how much of Twist’s gossip was true.
Suddenly the movement of a tiny creature caught her eye.
She watched it scuttle under some brambles.
Instinct made her drop into a low crouch. With one slow paw after another she drew her body forward through the undergrowth. Ears pricked, nostrils flared, eyes unblinking, she moved toward the animal. She could see it clearly now, sitting up among the barbed branches, nibbling on a large seed held between its paws. It was a mouse.
Applebloom rocked her haunches from side to side, preparing to leap. She held her breath in case her bell rang again. Excitement coursed through her, making her heart pound. This was even better than her dreams! Then a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves made her jump. Her bell jangled treacherously, and the mouse darted away into the thickest tangle of the bramble bush.
Applebloom stood very still and looked around. She could see the white tip of a red bushy tail trailing through a clump of tall ferns up ahead. She smelled a strong, strange scent, definitely a meat-eater, but neither cat nor dog. Distracted, Applebloom forgot about the mouse and watched the red tail curiously. She wanted a better look.
All of Applebloom’s senses strained ahead as she prowled forward. Then she detected another noise. It came from behind, but sounded muted and distant. She swiveled her ears backward to hear it better. Pawsteps? She wondered, but she kept her eyes fixed on the strange red fur up ahead, and continued to creep onward. It was only when the faint rustling behind her became a loud and fast-approaching leaf-crackle that Applebloom realized she was in danger.
The creature hit her like an explosion and Applebloom was thrown sideways into a clump of nettles. Twisting and yowling, she tried to throw off the attacker that had fastened itself to her back. It was gripping her with incredibly sharp claws. Applebloom could feel spiked teeth pricking at her neck. She writhed and squirmed from whisker to tail, but she couldn’t free herself. For a second she felt helpless; then she froze. Thinking fast, she flipped over onto her back. She knew instinctively how dangerous it was to expose her soft belly, but it was her only chance.
She was lucky—the ploy seemed to work. She heard a “hhuuffff” beneath her as the breath was knocked out of her attacker. Thrashing fiercely, Applebloom managed to wriggle free. Without looking back she sprinted toward her home. The attacker had a horn on the tip of its forehead and lit her horn which made her disappear with a quick flash and the cat ended up on top of her again. Applebloom struggled free again and started to run faster toward her home.
Behind her, a rush of pawsteps told Applebloom her attacker was giving chase. Even though the pain from her scratches stung beneath her fur, Applebloom decided she would rather turn and fight than let herself be jumped on again.
She skidded to a stop, spun around, and faced her pursuer.
It was another kitten, with a thick coat of shaggy white fur, strong legs, a short horn, and a broad face. In a heartbeat, Applebloom smelled that it was a she-cat, and sensed the power in the sturdy shoulders underneath the soft coat. Then the kitten crashed into Applebloom at full pelt. Taken by surprise by Applebloom’s turnabout, it fell back into a dazed heap.
The impact knocked the breath out of Applebloom, and she staggered. She quickly found her footing and arched her back, puffing out her yellow fur, ready to spring onto the other kitten. But her attacker simply sat up and began to lick a forepaw, all signs of aggression gone.
Applebloom felt strangely disappointed. Every part of her was tense, ready for battle.
“Hi there, kittypet!” meowed the white cat cheerily. “You put up quite a fight for a tame kitty!”
Applebloom remained on tiptoe for a second, wondering whether to attack anyway. Then she remembered the strength she had felt in this kitten’s paws when she had pinned her to the ground. She dropped onto her pads, loosened her muscles, and let her spine unbend. “And I’ll fight you again if I have to,” she growled.
“I’m Sweetie Belle, by the way,” the white kitten went on, ignoring Applebloom's threat. “I’m training to be a ThunderClan warrior.”
Applebloom remained silent. She didn’t understand what this Sweetiewhatsit was meowing about, but she sensed the threat had passed. She hid her confusion by leaning down to lick her ruffled chest.
“What’s a kittypet like you doing out in the woods? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“If you’re the most dangerous thing the woods has to offer, then I think I can handle it,” Applebloom bluffed.
Sweetie Belle looked up at her for a moment, narrowing her big green eyes. “Oh, I’m far from the most dangerous. If I were even half a warrior, I’d have given an intruder like you some real wounds to think about.”
Applebloom felt a thrill of fear at these ominous words. What did this cat mean by “intruder”?
“Anyway,” meowed Sweetie Belle, using her sharp teeth to tug a clump of grass from between her claws, “I didn’t think it was worth hurting you. You’re obviously not from one of the other Clans.”
“Other Clans?” Applebloom echoed, confused.
Sweetie Belle let out an impatient hiss. “You must have heard of the four warrior Clans that hunt around here! I belong to ThunderClan. The other Clans are always trying to steal prey from our territory, especially ShadowClan. They’re so fierce they would have ripped you to shreds, no questions asked.”
Sweetie Belle paused to spit angrily and continued: “They come to take prey that is rightfully ours. It’s the job of the ThunderClan warriors to keep them out of our territory. When I’ve finished my training, I’ll be so dangerous, I’ll have the other Clans shaking in their flea-bitten skins. They won’t dare come near us then!”
Applebloom narrowed her eyes. This must be one of the wildcats Twist had warned her about! Living rough in the woods, hunting and fighting each other for every last scrap of food. Yet Applebloom didn’t feel scared. In fact, it was hard not to admire this confident kitten. “So you’re not a warrior yet?” She asked.
“Why? Did you think I was?” Sweetie Belle purred proudly; then she shook her wide, furry head. “I won’t be a real warrior for ages. I have to go through the training first. Kits have to be six moons old before they even begin training. Tonight is my first night out as an apprentice.”
“Why don’t you find yourself an owner with a nice cozy house instead? Your life would be much easier,” Applebloom meowed. “There are plenty of housefolk who’d take in a kitten like you. All you have to do is sit where they can see you and look hungry for a couple of days—”
“And they’d feed me pellets that look like rabbit droppings and soft slop!” Sweetie Belle interrupted. “No way! I can’t think of anything worse than being a kittypet! They’re nothing but Twoleg toys! Eating stuff that doesn’t look like food, making dirt in a box of gravel, sticking their noses outside only when the Twolegs allow them? That’s no life! Out here it’s wild, and it’s free. We come and go as we please.” She finished her speech with a proud spit, then meowed mischievously, “Until you’ve tasted a fresh-killed mouse, you haven’t lived. Have you ever tasted mouse?”
“No,” Applebloom admitted, a little defensively. “Not yet.”
“I guess you’ll never understand.” Sweetie Belle sighed. “You weren’t born wild. It makes a big difference. You need to be born with warrior blood in your veins, or the feel of the wind in your whiskers. Kitties born into Twoleg nests could never feel the same way.”
Applebloom remembered the way she had felt in her dream.
“That’s not true!” she mewed indignantly.
Sweetie Belle did not reply. She suddenly stiffened midlick, one paw still raised, and sniffed the air. “I smell cats from my Clan,” she hissed. “You should go. They won’t be pleased to find you hunting in our territory!”
Applebloom looked around, wondering how Sweetie Belle knew any cat was approaching. She couldn’t smell anything different on the leaf-scented breeze. But her fur stood on end at the note of urgency in Sweetie Belle's voice.
“Quick!” hissed Sweetie Belle again. “Run!”
Applebloom prepared to spring into the bushes, not knowing which way was safe to jump.
She was too late. A voice meowed behind her, firm and menacing. “What’s going on here?”
Applebloom turned to see a large blue she-cat strolling majestically out from the undergrowth. She was magnificent. White hairs streaked her muzzle, and an ugly scar parted the fur across her wings, but her smooth blue coat shone like silver in the moonlight.
“Luna!” Beside Applebloom, Sweetie Belle crouched down and narrowed her eyes. She crouched even lower when a second cat—a orange, golden tabby—followed the blue cat into the clearing.
“Ya'll shouldn’t be so near Twolegplace, Sweetie Belle!” growled the golden she-cat angrily, narrowing her green eyes.
“I know, Applejack, I’m sorry.” Sweetie Belle looked down at her paws.
Applebloom copied Sweetie Belle and crouched low to the forest floor, her ears twitching nervously. These cats had an air of strength she had never seen in any of her garden friends. Maybe what Twist had warned her about was true.
“Who is this?” asked the she-cat.
Applebloom flinched as she turned her gaze on her. Her piercing blue eyes made her feel even more vulnerable.
“She’s no threat,” mewed Sweetie Belle quickly. “She’s not another Clan warrior, just a Twoleg pet from beyond our territories.”
Just a Twoleg pet! The words inflamed Applebloom, but she held her tongue. The warning look in Luna's stare told her that she had observed the anger in her eyes, and she looked away.
“This is Luna; she’s leader of my Clan!” Sweetie Belle hissed to Applebloom under her breath. “And Applejack. She’s my mentor, which means she’s training me to be a warrior.”
“Thank ya for the introduction, Sweetie Belle,” meowed Applejack coolly.
Luna was still staring at Applebloom. “You fight well for a Twoleg pet,” she meowed.
Applebloom and Sweetie Belle exchanged confused glances. How could she know?
“We have been watching you both,” Luna went on, as if she had read their thoughts. “We wondered how you would deal with an intruder, Sweetie Belle. You attacked her bravely.”
Sweetie Belle looked pleased at Luna's praise.
“Sit up now, both of you!” Luna looked at Applebloom. “You too, kittypet.” She sat up immediately and held Luna's gaze evenly as she addressed her.
“You reacted well to the attack, kittypet. Sweetie Belle is stronger than you, but you used your wits to defend yourself. And you turned to face her when she chased you. I’ve not seen a kittypet do that before.”
Applebloom managed to nod her thanks, taken aback by such unexpected praise. Her next words surprised her even more.
“I have been wondering how you would perform out here, beyond the Twolegplace. We patrol this border frequently, so I have often seen you sitting on your boundary, staring out into the forest. And now, at last, you have dared to place your paws here.” Luna stared at Applebloom thoughtfully. “You do seem to have a natural hunting ability. Sharp eyes. You would have caught that mouse if you had not hesitated so long.”
“R-really?” Apple bloom stammered.
Applejack spoke now. Her deep meow was respectful but insistent. “Luna, this is a kittypet. She should not be hunting in ThunderClan territory. Send her home to her Twolegs!”
Applebloom prickled at Applejack's dismissive words. “Send me home?” she mewed impatiently. Luna's words had made her glow with pride. She had noticed her; she had been impressed by her. “But I’ve only come here to hunt for a mouse or two. I’m sure there’s enough to go around.”
Luna had turned her head to acknowledge Applejack's words. Now her gaze snapped back to Applebloom. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger. “There’s never enough to go around,” she spat. “If you didn’t live such a soft, overfed life, you would know that!”
Applebloom was confused by Luna's sudden rage, but one glance at the horrified look on Sweetie Belle's face was enough to tell her she had spoken too freely. Applejack stepped to his leader’s side. Both warriors loomed over her now. Applebloom looked into Luna's threatening stare and her pride dissolved. These were not cozy fireside cats she was dealing with—they were mean, hungry cats who were probably going to finish what Sweetie Belle had started.
“Well?” hissed Luna, her face only a mouse-length from hers now. Applejack remained silent as she towered over Applebloom.
She flattened her ears and crouched under the golden warrior’s cold stare. Her fur prickled uncomfortably. “I am no threat to your Clan,” she mewed, looking down at her trembling paws.
“You threaten our Clan when you take our food,” yowled Luna. “You have plenty of food in your Twoleg nest already. You come here only to hunt for sport. But we hunt to survive.”
The truth of the warrior queen’s words pierced Applebloom like a blackthorn, and suddenly she understood her anger. She stopped trembling, sat up, and straightened her ears. She raised her eyes to meet hers. “I had not thought of it that way before. I am sorry,” she meowed solemnly. “I will not hunt here again.”
Luna let her hackles fall and signaled to Applejack to step back. “You are an unusual kittypet, Applebloom,” she meowed.
Sweetie Belle's sigh of relief made Applebloom’s ears twitch. She heard the approval in Luna's voice and noticed as she swapped a meaningful glance with Applejack. The look made her curious. What flashed between the two warriors?
Quietly she asked, “Is survival here really so hard?”
“Our territory covers only part of the forest,” answered Luna. “We compete with other Clans for what we have. And this year, late newleaf means prey is scarce.”
“Is your Clan very big?” Applebloom meowed, her eyes wide.
“Big enough,” replied Luna. “Our territory can support us, but there is no prey left over.”
“Are you all warriors, then?” Applebloom mewed. Luna's guarded answers were just making her more and more curious.
Applejack answered her. “Some are warriors. Some are too young or too old or too busy caring for kits to hunt.”
“And you all live and share prey together?” Applebloom murmured in awe, thinking a little guiltily of her own easy, selfish life.
Luna looked again at Applejack. The golden tabby stared back at her steadily. At last she returned her gaze to Applebloom and meowed, “Perhaps you should find out these things for yourself. Would you like to join ThunderClan?”
Applebloom was so surprised, she couldn’t speak.
Luna went on: “If you did, you would train with Sweetie Belle to become a Clan warrior.”
“But kittypets can’t be warriors!” Sweetie Belle blurted out.
“They don’t have warrior blood!”
A sad look clouded Luna's eyes. “Warrior blood,” she echoed with a sigh. “Too much of that has been spilled lately.”
Luna fell silent and Applejack meowed, “Luna is only offering you training, young kit. There is no guarantee you would become a full warrior. It might prove too difficult for you. After all, you are used to a comfortable life.”
Applebloom was stung by Applejack's words. She swung her head around to face the golden tabby. “Why offer me the chance, then?”
But it was Luna who answered. “You are right to question our motives, young one. The fact is, ThunderClan needs more warriors.”
“Understand that Luna does not make this offer lightly,” warned Applejack. “If you wish to train with us, we will have to take you into our Clan. You must either live with us and respect our ways, or return to your Twolegplace and never come back. You cannot live with a paw in each world.”
A cool breeze stirred the undergrowth, ruffling Applebloom’s fur. She shivered, not with the cold, but with excitement at the incredible possibilities opening up in front of her.
“Are you wondering if it’s worth giving up your comfortable kittypet life?” asked Luna gently. “But do you realize the price you will pay for your warmth and food?”
Applebloom looked at her, puzzled. Surely her encounter with these cats had proved to her just how easy and luxurious her life was.
“I can tell that you are still a she-cat,” Luna added, “despite the Twoleg stench that clings to your fur.”
“What do you mean—still a she-cat?”
“You haven’t yet been taken by the Twolegs to see the Cutter,” meowed Luna gravely. “You would be very different then. Not quite so keen to fight a Clan cat, I suspect!”
Applebloom was confused. She suddenly thought of Henry, who had become fat and lazy since his visit to the vet. Was that what Luna meant by the Cutter?
“The Clan may not be able to offer you such easy food or warmth,” continued Luna. “In the season of leaf-bare, nights in the forest can be cruel. The Clan will demand great loyalty and hard work. You will be expected to protect the Clan with your life if necessary. And there are many mouths to feed. But the rewards are great. You will remain a she-cat. You will be trained in the ways of the wild. You will learn what it is to be a real cat. The strength and the fellowship of the Clan will always be with you, even when you hunt alone.”
Applebloom’s head reeled. Luna seemed to be offering her the life she had lived so many times, and so tantalizingly, in her dreams, but could she live like that for real?
Applejack interrupted her thoughts. “Come, Luna, let’s not waste any more time here. We must be ready to join the other patrol at moonhigh. Rainbow Dash will wonder what has become of us.” She stood up and flicked her tail expectantly.
“Wait,” Applebloom meowed. “Can I think about your offer?”
Luna looked at her for a long moment and nodded.
“Applejack will be here tomorrow at sunhigh,” she told her.
“Give her your answer then.”
Luna murmured a low signal, and in a single movement the three cats turned and disappeared into the undergrowth.
Applebloom blinked. She stared—excited, uncertain—up past the ferns that encircled her, through the canopy of leaves, to the stars that glittered in the clear sky. The scent of the Clan cats still hung heavy in the evening air. And as Applebloom turned and headed for home, she felt a strange sensation inside her, tugging her back into the depths of the forest. Her fur prickled deliciously in the light wind, and the rustling leaves seemed to whisper her name into the shadows.
