The Lost Prophecy: Book 2: Broken Destinies

Chapter 27

Ravenwing shivered, and peered out of the warriors' den. Sandstorm's fur brushed his own from where she slept. Graystripe rested on his other side. Sandstorm got up with a yawn, and headed out of the den, leaving Ravenwing alone with Graystripe.

Ravenwing watched his friend's chest rise and fall, while his paws and whiskers twitched. He must be dreaming. About Silverstream? Ravenwing mused. How close was Graystripe to the RiverClan warrior anyway? It was still difficult for Ravenwing to believe that Graystripe would meet with a cat from another Clan. He wondered if they considered each other mates.

"Graystripe," he hissed, gently batting the gray warrior's flank with a paw. "Graystripe, wake up."

"Huh? Wha-" Graystripe flipped over. "What's the matter?!"

"Every other cat is awake," Ravenwing told him.

"Oh." Graystripe shook out his ruffled fur. "Right. Thanks." He pushed himself to his paws and stretched each leg one by one. Ravenwing followed more slowly; he had already stretched and washed his fur this morning.

They made their way to the fresh-kill pile. Graystripe picked a starling; Ravenwing decided to take a small vole. "Hopefully hunting is good today," Graystripe mewed, setting his meal on the ground in front of him. "This will hardly fill me up until tomorrow."

Ravenwing nodded silently; he had already bent his head to take a bite of vole. Tigerclaw watched him with narrowed eyes. Ravenwing tried to ignore him, and took in the appearance of the rest of the clearing. Dustpelt, Longtail, and Sandstorm were sharing a mouse a few tail-lengths off, while Frostfur and Brindleface were lounging outside the nursery, keeping a close eye on their young kits as they played in the deep snow. Their eyes flitted toward Darkstripe every once in a while, but the former warrior turned prisoner simply glared at the camp, his head on his paws.

Graystripe was his normal cheerful self, but when Ravenwing looked closely he could tell that Graystripe was avoiding his gaze. He pondered how to proceed. Should he ask him about Silverstream? Should he tell Bluestar? Ravenwing glanced at his Clan leader's den, and jerked his head away, shivering. He couldn't tell Bluestar. She wouldn't believe me anyway. Ravenwing shoved the bitter thought back.

Suddenly Graystripe turned his head. Ravenwing turned too- he could hear the sound of crunching snow coming from outside the camp. Bristling, he leaped to his paws. Brokenstar's rogues could be invading again!

Tigerclaw swung around, snarling, as a brown tabby tom burst into the clearing. Ravenwing blinked. It was Onewhisker. The tom's eyes were awash with panic, so different from the kind expression they'd held during the Gathering.

"Onewhisker?" Dustpelt bounded over to the WindClan warrior. "What are you doing here?"

"ShadowClan and RiverClan!" Onewhisker panted, skidding to a halt. "They're attacking our camp! We're outnumbered and fighting for our lives. Tallstar refuses to be driven off this time. You must help or my Clan will be wiped out!"

Ravenwing bristled. Graystripe was already on his paws, while the other cats in the camp looked on in alarm. Tigerclaw had unsheathed his massive claws. He appeared almost as though he wanted to chase Onewhisker from the camp when Bluestar raced out of her den.

"I heard," she meowed, and raised her head in a yowl to summon the rest of ThunderClan to the clearing. When the cats gathered around her, Bluestar began to speak. "There's no time to waste. It's as we feared- ShadowClan and RiverClan have joined together, and now they're attacking the WindClan camp. We must help them."

Cats looked on at Bluestar's words in shock. Ravenwing tuned out their protests. ThunderClan was going to be drawn into battle, and now that he was a warrior he'd be expected to fight. The thought pounded at the front of his awareness. Ravenwing knew any other cat would be eager to rush into battle alongside their Clanmates, but for him the prospect was sending tremors of fear down his spine. If he was chosen he'd be willing to fight- that had been his promise when he'd taken a warrior name, after all- but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be terrified the whole time.