“Yes, O Great One, I shall do as you command. Then when we come back empty-pawed, you'll admit I was right."
- Squirrelflight to Brambleclaw”
“Can nothing change what is about to happen”
“Darkness, air, water, and sky will come together... and shake the forest to its roots.”
“Of course I mean it. I don't talk for the pleasure of hearing my own voice.”
“THUNDERCLAN LEADER FIRESTAR—ginger tom with a flame-coloured pelt DEPUTY GREYSTRIPE—long-haired grey tom MEDICINE CAT CINDERPELT—dark grey she-cat APPRENTICE, LEAFPAW WARRIORS (toms, and she-cats without kits) MOUSEFUR—small dusky brown she-cat APPRENTICE, SPIDERPAW DUSTPELT—dark brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, SQUIRRELPAW SANDSTORM—pale ginger she-cat APPRENTICE, SORRELPAW CLOUDTAIL—long-haired white tom BRACKENFUR—golden brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, WHITEPAW THORNCLAW—golden brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, SHREWPAW BRIGHTHEART—white she-cat with ginger patches BRAMBLECLAW—dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes ASHFUR—pale grey (with darker flecks) tom, dark blue eyes RAINWHISKER—dark grey tom with blue eyes SOOTFUR—lighter grey tom with amber eyes APPRENTICES (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors) SORRELPAW—tortoiseshell and white shecat with amber eyes SQUIRRELPAW—dark ginger she-cat with green eyes LEAFPAW—light brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes and white paws SPIDERPAW—long-limbed black tom with brown underbelly and amber eyes SHREWPAW—small dark brown tom with amber eyes WHITEPAW—white she-cat with green eyes QUEENS (she-cats expecting or nursing kits) GOLDENFLOWER—pale ginger coat, the oldest nursery queen”
“Hope is easy, but it catches no prey.”
“Honestly, you’re as bad as Firestar,” Cloudtail went on. “When he slept in here he was always muttering and twitching in his sleep. A cat couldn’t get a good night’s rest for all the prey in the forest.”
“Night lay upon the forest. There was no moon, but the stars of Silverpelt shed their frosty glitter over the trees. At the bottom of a rocky hollow, a pool reflected the starshine. The air was heavy with the scents of late greenleaf. Wind sighed softly through the trees and ruffled the quiet surface of the pool. At the top of the hollow, the fronds of bracken parted to reveal a cat; her bluish grey fur glimmered as she stepped delicately from rock to rock, down to the water’s edge. Sitting on a flat stone that jutted out over the pool, she raised her head to look around. As if at a signal, more cats began to appear, slipping into the hollow from every direction. They padded down to sit as close to the water as they could, until the lower slopes were filled with lithe shapes gazing down into the pool.”
“Leafpaw felt a tingle spread through her fur. She remembered her own conviction, back when she had been little more than a kit, that it was right for her to heal and comfort her Clanmates, and to interpret the signs of StarClan for them. Has Mothwing felt the same? Leafpaw wondered. Could she have felt the same, if she was not Clanborn? Even Yellowfang, the medicine cat before Cinderpelt, had been forestborn, though ThunderClan had not been the Clan of her birth.”
“tabby ignored his thanks. “Just passin’ through, eh?” he mewed. “I’ll bet you’ve a story to tell. Why not stay awhile an’ share it wi’ me?” He stood up and braced himself, ready to jump down into the clearing.”
“But Squirrelpaw had the best idea.” Squirrelpaw ducked her head, looking embarrassed. “If ever any of you tell the cats back home that I purred at a Twoleg,” she mewed through gritted teeth, “I’ll turn you into crow-food, and that’s a promise.”
“Brambleclaw turned to Ravenpaw. “Thank you for everything,” he meowed. “It makes a difference that you understand why we are doing this.” The loner dipped his head. “Think nothing of it. Good luck, all of you, and may StarClan light your path.” He stood aside, and one by one the six cats began to pick their way down the far slope of the hill. The rising sun cast long blue shadows in front of them as they took the first steps on the longest journey of their lives.”
“When return, stand on Great Rock when Silverpelt shines above. A dying warrior the way will show.”
“Ravenpaw’s words echoed in his ears. Maybe it’s your time now.”
“Having fun?” Instantly Squirrelpaw’s head whipped around and her green eyes flashed fury at him. “That’s right, have a good laugh, you stupid furball!”
“When you set out, you were four. Six with friends who could not stay behind. Now you are one.”
“Tawnypelt pointed out. “I doubt they’d follow us. They must be quite stupid, or they wouldn’t let Twolegs on their backs.”
“Squirrelpaw’s eyes widened, though she looked more impressed than frightened.”
“The badger had paused on the edge of the shadows that filled the back of the cave. Its powerful shoulders were hunched and its claws scraped on rock. Its head swung to and fro, the white stripe glimmering, as if it were deciding which of them to attack first. Then it spoke. “Midnight has come.” Brambleclaw’s mouth fell open, and for a moment he felt as if the ground had given way beneath him again. That a badger could speak, could say words he understood, words that actually meant something . . . He stared in disbelief, his heart pounding. “I am Midnight.” The badger’s voice was deep and rasping, like the sound of the pebbles turning under the waves. “With you I must speak.”
“Leafpaw, you and your sister aren’t kits anymore. And you have chosen a very different path from hers, to be a medicine cat. You will always be friends, but you can’t do everything together, and the sooner you both accept that, the better.”
“What's the matter? Shadowclan attacking? Starclan walking among us?”
“Instead, he came to a skidding, terrified halt on the edge of a huge cliff. Steep sandy slopes fell away barely a mouse-length in front of his paws. Waves crashed at the bottom, and stretching out ahead of him was a heaving expanse of blue-green water. The sun was sinking into it on the horizon, its flames so bright that Brambleclaw had to narrow his eyes against them. The orange fire burned a path like blood across the water, almost reaching the foot of the cliff.”
“Do you think I'm never wrong? You must trust your own judgement. Believe me, Leafpaw, one day you will make a wonderful medicine cat--perhaps even as good as Spottedleaf.”
“She would have given up every Gathering from now until she went to join StarClan, if only she could have been sure that her sister was safe.”
“Brambleclaw stared at the apprentice for a moment before opening his mouth and tasting the air for himself. Squirrelpaw was right. The salt tang was unmistakable, carrying him right back to his dream, and the bitter taste of the water that had surged around him. “It is salt!” he meowed. “We must be close. Come on!” He raced into the wind with the sun dazzling his eyes. A swift glance behind showed that his companions were following. Even Tawnypelt was managing to hobble faster. Brambleclaw felt new strength pouring into his limbs, as if he could go on running forever until he soared into the fiery sky like one of the white birds that wheeled and screamed above them. Instead, he came to a skidding, terrified halt on the edge of a huge cliff. Steep sandy slopes fell away barely a mouse-length in front of his paws. Waves crashed at the bottom, and stretching out ahead of him was a heaving expanse of blue-green water. The sun was sinking into it on the horizon, its flames so bright that Brambleclaw had to narrow his eyes against them. The orange fire burned a path like blood across the water, almost reaching the foot of the cliff.”
“Brightheart, a pretty white she-cat with ginger patches on her fur like fallen leaves, had”
“There was no point in tears outliving eyes, so she let them fall.”
“As with all journeys, the Way has an end, though it should not be imagined as a straight road leading to a fixed destination but rather as a majestic mountain whose peak conceals the presence of God. There are, of course, many paths to the summit-some better than others. But because every path eventually leads to the same destination, which path one takes is irrelevant.”
“Memory fades, memory adjusts, memory conforms to what we think we remember.”
“Playing chess with my father is torture. I have to sit very upright on the edge of my chair and respect the rules of impassivity while I consider my next move. I can feel myself dissolving under his stare. When I move a pawn he asks sarcastically, 'Have you really thought about what you're doing?' I panic and want to move the pawn back. He doesn't allow it: 'You've touched the piece, now you have to follow through. Think before you act. Think.”
“IN OUR SOCIETY, MARCUS, the most admired men are those who build bridges, skyscrapers, and empires. But in reality, the proudest and most admirable are those who manage to build love. Because there is no greater or more difficult undertaking.”
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