Moonrise

Epilogue

Squirrelpaw was in a small, suffocating place. There was no light no matter where she looked and the floor under her felt strange, like something she'd never felt before. Terror filled her and she jerked awake to find herself scrambling in a shallow dip in the ground.

"What's the matter? Yowling like that, you'll scare all the prey."

Tawnypelt was standing over her; she had dropped a plump, fresh-caught vole so that she could speak. The six Clan cats had left the mountains last night after spending a few more days with the Tribe. The rising sun, relentlessly showing them the way they must go, had just cleared the horizon.

Squirrelpaw heaved herself out of her nest and shook scraps of grass from her pelt. "Nothing. It was just a dream." She gave her chest fur a few licks to try to hide how shaken she was. Whatever the dream was, all she knew was that someone was in great danger, and she would have to face it without Swiftpaw at her side.

Tawnypelt was looking faintly interested. "Was it a sign from StarClan?"

"No." Squirrelpaw only wished it was. "I. . . I felt like I was trapped somewhere dark. I couldn't see or hear anything, but I still felt terrified."

Awkwardly, Tawnypelt stepped forward and pressed her muzzle against Squirrelpaw's side. "I think we've all had bad dreams," she meowed. "Ever since Swiftpaw. . ."

Squirrelpaw nodded blankly. Out of all of them, Squirrelpaw couldn't get over Swiftpaw's death. The Tribe cats had helped bury him and Quiet Night beside the pool where the waterfall fell endlessly, churning up spray that made the ground soft enough to dig.

"He has a place of honor here," Stoneteller had meowed. "We will keep his memory alive for as long as our Tribe survives."

That had been small comfort for the Clan cats. Squirrelpaw had spent the entire next day crouched beside his grave, only joined by Crowpaw, Shining Snow, and Wild Snow but she was mostly alone. She stayed there until Brambletuft had forced her back into the cave.

"We're leaving tomorrow," the ThunderClan warrior had said. "You'll need all your strength."

The journey had begun again. The Tribe cats had escorted them part of the way through the mountains, and they soon came to easier country with flat green grass and hedgerows to provide prey. But they felt no sense of hope or relief that they would soon be home. Their hearts stayed with Swiftpaw, in the land of rocks and water.

Squirrelpaw soon recovered enough from her nightmare to help with the hunting, to make the most of the rapidly shortening days. Though no cat wanted to eat, they forced themselves to gulp down the fresh-kill. Once or twice Squirrelpaw found herself looking around to joke with Swiftpaw, before she remembered that she would never joke with him again. Nor would he ever get to hear the Clan call out his warrior name.

All that day and the next they traveled on, until their paws were cracked and bleeding. It was as if the horrors they had seen had numbed them to everyday pain. The sun was going down behind them again as they came to the top of a rise. Their shadows streamed out ahead of them, pointing toward a hill with a jagged crest. It seemed to smolder in scarlet fire from the rays of the setting sun.

"Look!" Tawnypelt's voice was an exhausted croak.

For a few heartbeats no one spoke. Then Brambletuft heaved a grateful sigh, his amber eyes brightening for the first time in days.

"Highstones," he meowed. "We're almost home."