Mudpaw’s Gift Of Scent

A white blur bounced across the clearing. Blizzardpaw skidded to a halt, scattering sand. His fluffy fur stuck out in every direction, and his blue eyes shone with excitement.

“There you are!” he mewed. “I’ve been looking everywhere. Blackclaw’s patrol is leaving for Sunningrocks, and Mistystar wants the apprentices to stay behind.”

Mudpaw pushed past him. “I need to speak to her.”

Blizzardpaw’s tail drooped. “About the hunting practice?”

“About the blood.”

His whiskers quivered. “What blood?”

“I can smell it.”

For one heartbeat, the river seemed louder. It rushed around the island, pounding against the stones with a deep, comforting roar. Mudpaw had grown up with that sound. It had steadied her through storms, quarrels, and the night Mistystar named her apprentice at the Wet Rocks.

Now it sounded like something warning her to run.

Blizzardpaw leaned closer and sniffed the air. “I smell rain.”

“Rain isn’t all I smell.”

Mosspelt gave a low grunt. “The young have sharp noses and sharper worries.”

Mudpaw spun on him. “You believe me.”

“I believe you smell something.” His old eyes narrowed. “That is not the same as knowing what it means.”

“It means danger.”

“Then find the cat who can do something about it.”

Mudpaw raced across camp.

Her paws slipped on the damp stones as she passed the warriors’ den. Cats were gathering near the island’s edge, their pelts brushed smooth for patrol. Blackclaw stood among them, broad-shouldered and dark, his proud head raised. Willowpelt was beside him, her thick gray fur silvered by the pale light.

Mudpaw’s chest tightened.

“Blackclaw!” she called.

Her brother turned. “Mudpaw? Why aren’t you with the apprentices?”

“Don’t go to Sunningrocks.”

A few warriors glanced over. Blackclaw’s ears flicked back.

“Why not?”

“I smell blood. And fear. There’s a storm coming from the far bank.”

Blackclaw stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You smell rain, little sister.”

“I smell more than rain.”

Willowpelt touched her nose to Mudpaw’s head. “You’re trembling.”

“I’m not.” Mudpaw pulled away. “Please. Tell Mistystar. We need to wait.”

Blackclaw’s expression softened for only a moment. Then he looked toward the leader’s den. “Mistystar has already decided. ThunderClan has crossed onto the Sunningrocks again. We’re taking them back.”

“Firestar wouldn’t send warriors there if he knew - ”

“Firestar knows exactly where his cats are,” Blackclaw snapped. “And so does Mistystar.”

The copper scent thickened.

Mudpaw turned toward the leader’s den. “Then I’ll tell her myself.”

She found Mistystar emerging from the shadows beneath the rock ledge. The RiverClan leader’s blue coat gleamed with dampness, and her gaze swept over the waiting patrol.

“Mudpaw,” she said. “You should be with Blizzardpaw.”

“There’s danger at Sunningrocks.” Mudpaw forced the words out before her fear could tangle them. “I smell blood already. It’s coming from across the river.”

Mistystar studied her. “How far away?”

“Farther than the camp. Near the stones.”

“Do you smell ThunderClan?”

Mudpaw breathed in. The river, the reeds, the fish, the sedge. Underneath it all, fear and metal.

“Yes. But not only ThunderClan.”

A murmur passed through the warriors.

Pebblefoot, a thickset tom near the stepping stones, snorted. “That’s a fine warning. Not only ThunderClan.”

Yarrowtail, carrying a bundle of moss from the medicine den, paused beside the warriors. “Mudpaw has been right before.”

Pebblefoot flicked his tail. “About herbs, perhaps. She has never stood in a real fight.”

Mudpaw’s claws dug into the stone. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Mistystar’s eyes remained fixed on her. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Stop the patrol. Send someone to look first.”

“And if ThunderClan is occupying the Sunningrocks?”

“Then we wait until we know what’s happening.”

Blackclaw gave a harsh laugh. “While Firestar’s cats settle in?”

“Blackclaw,” Willowpelt warned.

Mudpaw stared at her brother. “You can smell it too. I know you can.”

“I smell a frightened apprentice trying to keep her family in camp.”

The words struck harder than a claw.

Mudpaw looked at Mistystar. “Please.”

For a moment, the leader said nothing. Then the river wind swept across the clearing, cold enough to lift the fur along Mudpaw’s spine.

Mistystar turned to the patrol. “We go to Sunningrocks. No cat strikes unless I give the order. We will see what ThunderClan is doing and return if the stones are empty.”

Mudpaw’s breath caught. “But - ”

“Stay here,” Mistystar said. “That is an order.”

Blackclaw brushed past Mudpaw, his shoulder bumping hers. Willowpelt followed, pausing just long enough to touch noses with her daughter.

“Don’t look so frightened,” Willowpelt murmured. “We’ll be back before the rain.”

Mudpaw tried to answer, but the copper scent surged over her mother’s familiar warmth.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

Willowpelt’s eyes softened. “I have to.”

Then she was gone.

The patrol crossed the stepping stones, paws striking wet rock. Blackclaw led them, with Mistystar close behind. Their shapes shrank among the reeds on the far bank.

Mudpaw stood at the water’s edge.

Blizzardpaw came beside her. “They’ll be careful.”

“They won’t.”

“How do you know?”

She pressed her nose to the wind. The scent of blood was no longer faint. It poured across the river in a hot, metallic wave. Fear followed it, thick and choking. The storm-smell crackled through her nose until her eyes watered.

“Because it’s already begun.”

A cry rose from beyond the reeds.

Not a battle yowl. A single startled scream.

Mudpaw plunged into the river.

Blizzardpaw seized the loose fur at her shoulder. “Mudpaw!”

She twisted free and struck for the far bank. The water was icy, dragging at her legs. The current shoved her sideways, but she clawed against the stones beneath the surface. Behind her, Blizzardpaw splashed after her, shouting.

“Mudpaw, come back!”

She reached the bank and scrambled onto the mud. Her paws slid as she raced toward Sunningrocks. Reeds whipped her face. The metallic scent became unbearable.

Ahead, cats crashed among the stones.

Mistystar’s voice rang out. “RiverClan, hold!”

Another voice answered, deep and furious. Firestar.

“You crossed onto ThunderClan ground!”

“It is RiverClan ground!” Mistystar called.

The first blow landed with a wet crack.

Mudpaw burst through the reeds.

ThunderClan warriors crowded the Sunningrocks, their pelts bristling. RiverClan cats faced them across the slick stones. Blackclaw stood near the center, claws unsheathed. Willowpelt was beside him, blood already bright on one ear.

Mudpaw froze.

The scent she had followed was everywhere now. Copper flooded her mouth. Fear shrieked from every pelt. Beneath it ran the smell of crushed sedge and dock leaves, herbs growing in the cracks between the rocks as if the earth had known what was coming.

“Stop!” Mistystar yowled.

A ThunderClan warrior lunged.

Blackclaw met him halfway.

They collided, fur and claws twisting together. Willowpelt sprang forward to help, but a gray ThunderClan cat struck her from the side. She staggered, slipped on the wet stone, and fell hard.

“Mother!”

Mudpaw leaped toward her.

A RiverClan warrior barreled into Mudpaw’s flank, knocking her aside. She hit the ground and tasted mud. Around her, the patrol broke apart. ThunderClan and RiverClan cats crashed together, their yowls tearing through the rain-heavy air.

Blackclaw threw his opponent back. “Get away from here, Mudpaw!”

“I’m coming!”

He turned toward her.

The gray ThunderClan cat struck again.

Blackclaw’s body jerked. A dark line opened beneath his ribs. For an instant, he remained standing, eyes wide with disbelief.

Then he fell.

Mudpaw screamed.

Willowpelt dragged herself toward him. “Blackclaw!”

A second warrior slammed into her before she could reach him. Her gray body spun across the stone and struck the edge of the river.

The current seized her.

“No!”

Mudpaw sprang, but Mistystar caught her by the scruff.

“Stay back!”

“My mother!”

“Stay back, Mudpaw!”

Willowpelt vanished beneath the churning water.

Mudpaw clawed at Mistystar’s grip until her paws bled. “I warned you! I warned you!”

The fighting raged around them. Firestar shouted for his warriors to retreat, but the words scattered beneath the roar of the river. Blackclaw lay motionless on the stones. Blood streamed toward the water in thin red threads.

Blizzardpaw reached Mudpaw at last, soaked and shaking. “Mudpaw!”

She could not look away from her brother.

The scent of death filled her nose.

It was no longer coming.

It was here.

End of chapter one. 4 more chapters in the full book.