[OLD AND OUTDATED] Warriors: Featherheart's Promise

Chapter 8

I need to speak to Mistleheart, I need to! Featherheart padded through CloudClan territory. He kicked the grit behind him with anger. He was frustrated that Lavenderspot wouldn't take Mistleheart to StarClan.

He managed to make it by sunset. Thorns snagged his coat and he crawled through br-

ambles. Looking around, Featherheart padded out, happy that his fur didn't snag onto the thorns.

He raced out to the open and then through the thickly woven trees to find himself face to face with the Thunderpath. He purred and lay down in a clump of nettles so he could fall asleep.

Just as he guessed, a few proddings woke him up. It was Mistleheart. Her ghostly shape

shape peered over him. Featherheart stood up onto his haunches, face to face with his daughter. Mistleheart rolled her eyes.

"What is it now?" She growled.

"I've spoken to StarClan." he began.

Mistleheart turned around deliberately. "Like I care what they say!"

Featherheart sighed, her daughter was as angry then ever.

"I asked them why you didn't go to StarClan . . ." He began calmly. "Every other StarCla-

n cat said you should have gone. Except Lavenderspot. She hated you as much as you hate StarClan."

Mistleheart seemed to look interested. But she looked away. "I did nothing wrong did I? Lavenderspot is a fool," she leaned closer on Featherheart, pressing her muzzle comfortably under his chin. Featherheart comforted her, he felt a few tears strolled down her eyes and sank into his white chest fur. "Thank you, Featherheart," she sniffed, "I'll ever forget this."

Featherheart nodded, standing up. "I'd ought to go now. But good-bye. Stay safe."

Mistleheart shook her head after a few brief moments. Mistleheart began to fade away and Featherheart knew that the sun was beginning to come. He stood up and casted a swift glance behind him, seeing a very faint starry shape there. Mistleheart mewed something but it sounded odd and distorted. Despite that, Featherheart nodded and disappeared through the tussocks and brambles.

Featherheart raced over to Redstar's den, but surprised to see he was busy. Featherheart waited outside patiently, though his claws pricked the soil. After Claweye left with an angry snort, Featherheart came next.

He squeezed inside the hollow inside the tree to yawn to reveal a cozy nest inside. Feat-

herheart nodded as he entered. Redstar pricked his ears.

"Whatever it is, Featherheart, can it wait?" he asked.

"It's important." Featherheart meowed desperately.

Redstar yawned and Featherheart saw the tiredness that glowed in the leader's brown eyes. "I was just going to take a nap," he snorted, "if you speak to me I won't keep up with you. Just saying."

Featherheart flattened his ears, but nodded. "Alright Redstar . . . It can wait."

He squeezed out the den, shaking off dust. Everything looked normal. Cats sharing to-

ngues and gossiping about the latest news. From the corner of his eye, Featherheart saw Sharptail dragging a limp eagle, Barkfur behind him. Featherheart wondered what the two moor-hunter and stone-hunter were up to. He shrugged.

Featherheart was about to take a bite of his squirrel until he saw Claweye squeezing

outside the camp entrance, in front of him, he carried a fat rabbit that could feed a whole Clan of elders. Featherheart pricked his ears, he waited until Claweye disappeared through the shrubs before following him.