Silverwing's Story: The Prophecy Begins

Chapter Twenty-Five

Silverpaw immediately retracted from the bush. Panic flashed through her as she heard Crow give orders to search the forest.

"Get down!" Manglestar hissed. Silverpaw followed her leader's order and pressed her stomach to the ground, silently wishing her pelt was darker so she could blend in with the forest. She turned her head as a patch of ferns rustled, and felt a rush of fear as a brown pelt slivered around on the other side of the overgrown leaves.

Manglestar signaled Sparrowsong and Silverpaw to follow her. She began to creep back toward the bramble bush they'd found Bark's scent on. Luckily, it seemed the rogue's pursuing hadn't reached the prickly vines.

"We're returning to our territory. Don't try and attack the rogues unless you have to," the Thunderclan leader ordered once they were underneath the brambles. "We don't have much time; unfortunately, stealth isn't much of an option."

Silverpaw didn't enjoy the idea of not concealing herself from her enemies, but Manglestar was right. If they didn't leave quickly, they wouldn't leave at all. Manglestar and Sparrowsong tasted the air before leaving the safety of the bush, and once all the she-cats were in the open, they immediately began sprinting toward Thunderclan territory.

The forest was a blur. Silverpaw could barely see her surroundings, causing her to stumble on the obstacles littering the forest floor. She stumbled against a tree root, accidently rustling some ferns beside her. She sat back onto her haunches as Sparrowsong and Manglestar retreated to her side.

"Are you alright?" Sparrowsong asked anxiously. Silverpaw nodded, though her paw throbbed in pain. She had a feeling she might have sprained it.

A call sounded from nearby. "They're over there!" The voice belonged to Crow. Silverpaw could already see his white pelt. Scars scattered his white surface, one of his worst being on his muzzle.

"We need to keep moving, now!" Manglestar whispered urgently. Silverpaw got to her paws, wincing as pain shot up her paw. The two experienced warriors began moving again, slower to make sure she was alright. Silverpaw sprinted after them, ignoring the agony in her forepaw.

Three rogues shot out of the bushes in the area Silverpaw had wrenched her paw. She looked over her shoulder as she ran, recognizing one as Raven. His nervousness had disappeared, and his eyes only showed his goal of catching the trespassers.

Silverpaw faced forward again. She forced her legs to run faster. She kept her gaze focused on Sparrowsong's tail. It flew limply behind her, blowing as if it were part of the wind. She could tell the rogues were gaining on them; their foul stench climbed around her pelt. She wished she didn't have such bad footing that caused her twisted forepaw.

Silverpaw's heart lurched as she felt claws tug her pelt. She glanced back to see the rogues were only tail-lengths away. Fresh claw marks streaked a spot near her tail, oozing down the side of her flank. She wished her legs were longer. These cats were full-grown, having longer limbs and stronger muscles. The warriors racing ahead of her were also full-grown.

The apprentice pushed against her hind legs, leaping toward her clanmates. Her heart rushed faster each heartbeat; her head was spinning. Blood roared in her ears. She wished she hadn't given away their position in the brambles because she wanted a better look at Crow's eyes. They were red mixed with amber, just like Clayear's. She thought of how Darkstar's eyes had turned green in his dying moments. The sudden change in color had confused her, as well as Manglestar's discussion with him.

Silverpaw returned her mind to the chase. She prayed her legs would go faster, but the wind whipping against her face didn't seem to blow any harder. She hoped she'd catch a whiff of the familiar Thunderclan border, but no scent came to her parted jaws.