Warriors: Omen of the Stars #3: Night Whispers by Erin Hunter

Author:Erin Hunter [Hunter, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Publisher: Harper Collins, Inc.
Published: 2010-11-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Dovepaw barged out of the apprentices’ den after Whitewing and Bumblestripe. Let Cinderheart fuss over her! I found her a thorn. She can explain the rest.

But her rage quickly ebbed. She wasn’t angry. She was scared. Every night she went to sleep wondering what wounds Ivypaw would wake with. And what if Ivypaw started thinking like a Dark Forest warrior? She needed to talk to Jayfeather. He had to help. She headed for his den.

She stalked past the fresh-kill pile, where Purdy was turning over a muddy-looking mouse. “Do you think this will appeal to Mousefur?” he rasped.

Dovepaw paused. “What?”

“It doesn’t look like much.” Purdy dangled the scrawny mouse from a claw. “But it might tempt her.”

“Isn’t she hungry?” Dovepaw was surprised. Surely every cat in the Clan must be hungry?

Squirrelflight hurried over. “Does she have a fever?”

Purdy shook his head. “She just seems tired and sad.” His shoulders drooped. “I was hoping there would be something on the fresh-kill pile to cheer her up.”

“One of the hunting patrols should be back soon,” Squirrelflight meowed. “They might bring something.” She glanced at Dovepaw. “Isn’t Lionblaze taking you out?”

Dovepaw shrugged. “When he’s ready.” Besides, I have something else to do first. She glanced toward the medicine den, hoping Bumblestripe wouldn’t be hanging around there long.

Purdy let the mouse fall with a soft thud into the snow. “If I were a few seasons younger, I’d go out myself.” He stared dreamily up to the top of the hollow. “I was quite a hunter in my youth. I could catch rabbits.” He puffed out his chest. “And pheasants, although . . .” His whiskers twitched. “Pheasants aren’t that hard to catch. They prefer eating to flying.”

Dovepaw blinked, her attention snatched from Jayfeather. “You caught pheasants?” Purdy wasn’t small, but even he must have been outweighed by a pheasant.

“When I was younger, nothing was too big for me.” Sighing, the old cat headed away toward the elders’ den.

Dovepaw dipped her head to Squirrelflight and hurried to the medicine den.

Bumblestripe was pacing beside Briarlight’s nest. “You should have seen it! So much blood. All from one thorn. And she’d been sleeping on it all night and hadn’t noticed.”

Jayfeather was soaking his pulp-stained paws in the pool. “Don’t exaggerate, Bumblestripe.” He snatched them out and began licking them. “It was nothing more than a couple of scratches.”

“I’m going to be checking moss for Jayfeather now,” Briarlight announced proudly. “I’m the thorn patrol.” She looked across at the medicine cat. “Perhaps I should check the moss for the nursery before it goes in the nests.”

Dovepaw was about to call to Jayfeather, but he was already crossing the den toward her. “I’m sure Daisy and Poppyfrost would appreciate you checking the kits’ moss,” he told Briarlight as he passed her nest. “I’ve got to go out for a while. Bumblestripe, keep Briarlight company. But no more wild stories, please.”

Jayfeather swished past Dovepaw. “Come on,” he whispered, pushing through the brambles. “We need to talk.”

Finally! Was Jayfeather going to start taking Ivypaw’s visits to the Dark Forest seriously? She hurried after him.

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