“You can tell her,” meowed Whitestorm.
Fireheart’s ear twitched. He didn’t think Sandpaw would be too thrilled by the idea of patrolling with him, but he didn’t argue.
Whitestorm nodded briefly and bounded away toward the warriors’ den. Fireheart sighed and padded over to where Sandpaw was sitting with the other apprentices.
“Sandpaw.” Fireheart shifted uneasily. “Whitestorm wants you to patrol with me at dawn tomorrow.”
He waited for a resentful hiss, but Sandpaw merely looked up at him and meowed, “Fine.” Even Dustpaw looked surprised.
“O-okay,” echoed Fireheart, taken aback. “Meet you at sunrise then.”
“Sunrise,” agreed Sandpaw.
Fireheart decided to share the good news about Sandpaw’s lack of hostility with Graystripe. It might be a chance for them to start talking to each other again. Graystripe was sharing tongues with Runningwind by the clump of nettles.
“Hi, Fireheart,” Runningwind meowed as Fireheart approached.
“Hi.” Fireheart looked expectantly at Graystripe. But Graystripe had turned his head away and was staring at the boundary wall. Fireheart’s heart sank. He dropped his head and turned back toward his nest. He couldn’t wait to be out on patrol tomorrow and away from the camp.
The sky glowed palest pink above Fireheart’s head as he pushed his way out of the den the next morning.
Sandpaw was waiting for him outside the gorse tunnel.
“Er, hi,” Fireheart meowed, feeling a bit awkward.
“Hi,” Sandpaw answered quietly.
Fireheart sat down. “Let’s wait for the night patrol to get back,” he suggested.
They sat in silence until they heard the familiar rustle of bushes heralding the return of Whitestorm, Longtail, and Mousefur.
“Any sign of ShadowClan?” Fireheart asked.
“We definitely picked up some ShadowClan scents,” answered Whitestorm grimly.
“It’s strange,” meowed Mousefur, frowning. “It’s always the same group of scents. ShadowClan must be sending the same warriors each time.”
“You two had better check out the RiverClan border,” suggested Whitestorm. “We didn’t get a chance to patrol there. Be careful, and remember, you don’t want to start a fight. You’re just looking for signs they’ve been hunting on our land again.”
“Yes, Whitestorm,” meowed Fireheart. Sandpaw nodded respectfully.
Fireheart led the way. “We’ll start at Fourtrees and work our way along the border to Tallpines,” he meowed as they climbed out of the camp ravine.
“Sounds good,” replied Sandpaw. “I’ve never seen Fourtrees in the snow.” Fireheart listened for sarcasm in her voice, but she seemed to be sincere.
They reached the top of the ravine. “Which way now?” Fireheart decided to test her.
“Do you think I don’t know the way to Fourtrees?” Sandpaw protested. Fireheart began to regret acting like a mentor until he noticed a good-humored gleam in her eyes. She charged away through the woods without another word, and Fireheart pelted after her.
It felt good to be running through the woods with another cat again. He had to admit Sandpaw was fast. She was still two fox lengths ahead when she leaped over the trunk of a fallen tree and disappeared.
Fireheart followed, taking the tree in a single bound. As he landed on the other side, something hit him from behind. He skidded in the snow, rolled over, and sprang to his paws.
Sandpaw faced him, her whiskers twitching. “Surprise!”
Fireheart hissed playfully and leaped on top of her. He was impressed by Sandpaw’s strength, but he had the advantage of size. When he finally held her down in the snow, she protested, “Get off, you great lump!”
“Okay, okay,” meowed Fireheart, letting go of her. “But you asked for it!”
Sandpaw sat up, her orange coat dusted with snow. “You look like you’ve been caught in a snowstorm!” she mewed.
“So do you.” They both shook the flakes from their fur. “Come on,” Fireheart meowed. “We’d better get a move on.”
They raced side by side, as far as Fourtrees. By the time they reached the top of the slope that overlooked the valley, the sky was milky blue. Pale sunlight lit up the snowy hollow. The four bare oaks stood below them, glittering with frost.
Sandpaw stared down, her eyes wide. Fireheart waited, touched by her enthusiasm, until she turned to leave.
“I didn’t know the snow would make everything look so different,” she mewed as they began to follow the RiverClan border toward the river. Fireheart nodded in agreement.
Their pace was slower as they traveled in silence along the line of scent markers, alert for any fresh smells of RiverClan this side of the border. Fireheart paused every few trees to leave a new ThunderClan scent mark.
Suddenly Sandpaw stopped dead. “Fancy a little fresh-kill?” she whispered. Fireheart nodded. The apprentice dropped into a hunting crouch and pulled herself forward through the snow, one slow pawstep after another. Fireheart followed her gaze and saw a young rabbit hopping underneath some brambles. With a quick hiss, Sandpaw pounced, diving into the brambles and pinning the rabbit down with a strong forepaw. In one smooth movement she pulled it toward her to finish it off.
Fireheart bounded over. “Great catch, Sandpaw!”
Sandpaw looked pleased. She dropped the warm fresh-kill to the ground. “Share?”
“Thanks!”
“That’s one of the best things about patrols,” remarked Sandpaw between mouthfuls.
“What?” Fireheart asked.
“You can eat what you catch instead of having to take it back to the Clan,” Sandpaw replied. “I don’t know how many hunting missions I’ve nearly starved on!”
Fireheart purred with amusement.
They set off again, skirting Sunningrocks to follow the trail into the woods again, close to the RiverClan border. As they reached the top of the bracken-covered slope above the river, Fireheart sent a silent prayer to StarClan that they wouldn’t find Graystripe here.
“Look!” meowed Sandpaw suddenly. Her body stiffened with excitement. “The river—it’s frozen.”
Fireheart’s heart lurched as he remembered Cinderpaw saying the same words before Graystripe’s accident. “We
’re not going down to look!” he meowed firmly.
“We don’t have to. You can see from here. Let’s get back and tell the Clan.”
“Why?” Fireheart couldn’t understand Sandpaw’s excitement.
“A patrol of our warriors could cross the river now!” Sandpaw meowed. “We can invade RiverClan’s territory and steal back some of the prey they’ve taken from us.”
Fireheart felt a cold chill ripple the fur on his spine. What would Graystripe think about that? And could Fireheart bring himself to go into battle against the starving RiverClan?
Sandpaw circled him impatiently. “Are you coming?”
“Yes,” replied Fireheart heavily. He leaped after Sandpaw as she raced off into the woods, back to camp.
Sandpaw tore through the gorse tunnel just ahead of Fireheart. Tigerclaw glanced up as they skidded to a halt in the clearing.
Fireheart heard a noise behind him. Graystripe was padding through the camp entrance with Brackenpaw.
A call sounded from below the Highrock. “Fireheart, Sandpaw, how was your patrol?”
Fireheart felt a flood of relief when he saw Bluestar looking her normal self, sitting with her chin high and her tail tucked over her front paws.
Sandpaw bounded over to the Highrock. “The river’s frozen,” she burst out. “We could cross it easily right now!”
Bluestar gazed thoughtfully at the apprentice. Fireheart flinched when he saw the ThunderClan leader’s eyes gleam. “Thank you, Sandpaw,” she meowed.
Fireheart leaned over and murmured into Sandpaw’s ear, “Come on, let’s tell the others.” He guessed that Bluestar would want to discuss the frozen river with her senior warriors.
Sandpaw glanced at him, understanding, and followed him back to the center of the clearing. “This has been such a great day!” she meowed. Fireheart just nodded and glanced anxiously at Graystripe.
“You two look like you had fun!” Dustpaw had emerged from the apprentices’ den. “Drowned another RiverClan cat?” he sneered at Fireheart.