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Fireheart padded to the edge of the slope and stared down at the treetops that sheltered the camp below. Sandstorm sat beside him. She didn’t speak, but pressed her flank to his sympathetically. Fireheart knew that he could even walk away now and she wouldn’t ask any more questions.
“Sandstorm,” he began hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“Do you think I made the wrong decision bringing Cloudpaw into the Clan?”
Sandstorm was silent for a few moments, and when she spoke, her words were careful and honest. “When I looked at him today, lying outside his den, I thought he looked more like a kittypet than a warrior. And then I remembered the day he caught his first prey. He was just a tiny kit, but he went out into a blizzard to catch that vole. He looked so unafraid, so proud of what he had done. He seemed like a Clan cat then, born and bred.”
“So I made the right decision?” Fireheart meowed hopefully.
There was another heavy pause. “I think only time will tell,” Sandstorm replied at last.
Fireheart didn’t say anything. This wasn’t the reassurance he’d been hoping for, but he knew she was right.
“Has something happened to him?” asked Sandstorm, her eyes narrowed with concern.
“I saw him go into a Twoleg nest this afternoon,” Fireheart confessed flatly. “I think he’s been allowing them to feed him for a while now.”
Sandstorm frowned. “Does he know you saw him?”
“No.”
“You should tell him,” advised Sandstorm. “Cloudpaw needs to decide where he belongs.”
“But what if he decides to return to a kittypet life?” Fireheart protested. Today had made him realize how much he wanted Cloudpaw to stay in the Clan. Not just for his own sake, or to show the other cats that warriors didn’t have to be forestborn, but for Cloudpaw’s sake too. He had so much to give to the Clan, and would be repaid more than enough by their loyalty. Fireheart felt his heart begin to pound at the thought of what Cloudpaw might be about to throw away.
“It’s his decision,” meowed Sandstorm gently.
“If only I’d been a better mentor—”
“It’s not your fault,” Sandstorm interrupted him. “You can’t change what’s in his heart.”
Fireheart shrugged hopelessly.
“Just talk to him,” urged Sandstorm. “Find out what he wants. Let him decide for himself.” Her eyes were round with sympathy, but Fireheart still felt miserable. “Go and find him,” she meowed. Fireheart nodded as Sandstorm stood up and padded away into the trees.
With a heavy heart he began to scramble down into the ravine, heading for the training hollow in the hope that Cloudpaw would return to camp the same way he’d left. He didn’t want to confront his apprentice like this; he was afraid of pushing Cloudpaw away for good. But he also knew that Sandstorm was right. Cloudpaw could not stay in ThunderClan and keep one paw in the life of a kittypet.
Fireheart sat in the hollow as the sun dropped behind the trees. The air was still warm even though long shadows stretched across the sand. It would be time for the evening meal soon. Fireheart began to wonder if Cloudpaw would return at all. Then he heard the rustle of bushes and the padding of small paws and knew Cloudpaw was approaching even before he smelled his scent.
The apprentice trotted into the clearing with his tail high and his ears pricked. He was carrying a tiny shrew in his jaws, which he dropped as soon as he saw Fireheart. “What are you doing here?” Fireheart heard reproach in the young cat’s voice. “I told you I’d be back by mealtime. Don’t you trust me?”
Fireheart shook his head. “No.”
Cloudpaw tipped his head to one side and looked hurt. “Well, I said I’d be back, and I am,” he protested.
“I saw you,” Fireheart meowed simply.
“Saw me where?”
“I saw you go into that Twoleg nest.” He paused.
“So?”
Fireheart was shocked almost to speechlessness by Cloudpaw’s lack of concern. Didn’t he realize what he’d done? “You were supposed to be hunting for the Clan,” he hissed, anger burning in his belly.
“I did hunt,” answered Cloudpaw.
Fireheart looked scornfully at the shrew that Cloudpaw had dropped on the ground. “And how many cats do you think that will feed?”
“Well, I won’t take anything for myself,” mewed Cloudpaw.
“Only because you’re stuffed with kittypet slop!” Fireheart spat. “Why did you come back at all?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m just visiting the Twolegs for food.” Cloudpaw sounded genuinely puzzled. “What’s the problem?”
Seething with frustration, Fireheart growled, “I can’t help wondering if your mother did the right thing in giving up her firstborn kit to be a Clan cat.”
“Well, she’s done it now,” Cloudpaw hissed back. “So you’re stuck with me!”
“I may be stuck with you as an apprentice, but I can keep you from becoming a warrior!” threatened Fireheart.
Cloudpaw’s eyes widened in surprise. “You wouldn’t! You couldn’t! I’m going to become such a great fighter that you won’t be able to stop me.” He glared defiantly at Fireheart.
“How many times do I have to tell you, there’s more to being a warrior than hunting and fighting. You have to know what you’re hunting and fighting for!” Fireheart fought back the fury that rose in his chest.
“I know what I’m fighting for. The same as you—survival!”
Fireheart stared at Cloudpaw in disbelief. “I fight for the Clan, not myself,” he growled.
Cloudpaw gazed steadily back at him. “Okay,” he mewed. “I’ll fight for the Clan, if that’s what it takes to become a warrior. It’s all the same in the end.”
Fireheart felt like clawing some sense into the mouse-brained young cat, but he took a deep breath and meowed as calmly as he could, “You can’t live with a paw in two worlds, Cloudpaw. You’re going to have to decide. You must choose whether you want to live by the warrior code as a Clan cat, or whether you want the life of a kittypet.” As he spoke, he recalled Bluestar saying exactly the same thing when Tigerclaw had spotted him talking to his old kittypet friend, Smudge, at the edge of the forest. The difference was that Fireheart had had no trouble recognizing where his loyalties lay. He had been a Clan cat from the moment he had stepped into the forest, in his own mind at least.
Cloudpaw looked taken aback. “Why must I choose? I like my life the way it is, and I’m not going to change it just to make you feel better!”
“It’s not just to make me feel better,” Fireheart spat. “It’s for the good of the Clan! The life of a kittypet goes against everything in the warrior code.” He watched incredulously as Cloudpaw ignored him and picked up his shrew, then marched past him toward the camp. Fireheart took a long breath, resisting the urge to chase Cloudpaw out of ThunderClan territory once and for all. Let him decide for himself. He repeated Sandstorm’s words under his breath as he followed his apprentice back to the camp. After all, he told himself desperately, Cloudpaw wasn’t doing any harm by eating kittypet food. He just hoped none of the other cats found out.
As they neared the gorse tunnel, Fireheart heard the clatter of dirt cascading down the ravine. He stopped and waited, hoping it was Sandstorm returning from her hunt, but a warm scent on the early evening air told him it was Cinderpelt.
The small gray cat jumped awkwardly down from the last rock. Her jaws were full of herbs and she was limping heavily.
“Are you okay?” Fireheart asked.
Cinderpelt dropped the herbs. “I’m fine, honestly,” she puffed. “My leg is playing up, that’s all, and it took me longer than I thought to find the herbs.”
“You should tell Yellowfang,” Fireheart meowed. “She wouldn’t want you overdoing it.”
“No!” mewed Cinderpelt, shaking her head.
