Warriors 03 - Forest of Secrets Read Online Free

out for Graystripe, Fireheart settled down to listen to their conversation.
    â€œI remember a leaf-bare even worse than this.” It was an old black tom who spoke, his muzzle turned to silver and his flank scarred from many a fight. He had the scent of WindClan on his short, patchy fur. “The river was frozen for more than three moons.”
    â€œYou’re right, Crowfur,” a tabby queen agreed. “And prey was scarcer, too, even for RiverClan.”
    For a heartbeat Fireheart felt surprised that two elders from recently hostile Clans could talk calmly without spitting hatred at each other. But then, they were elders, he reflected. They must have seen many battles in their long lives.
    â€œYoung warriors today,” the old black cat added with a glance at Fireheart. “They don’t know what hardship is.”
    Fireheart scuffled among the dead leaves under the bush and tried to look respectful. Patchpelt, crouched close to him, gave him a friendly flick with his tail.
    â€œThat must have been the season when Bluestar lost her kits,” recalled the ThunderClan elder. Fireheart pricked up his ears. He remembered Dappletail saying something once before about Bluestar’s kits, which were born just before she became Clan deputy. But he had never learned how many kits she had had, or how old they were when they died.
    â€œAnd do you remember the thaw that leaf-bare?” Crowfur interrupted Fireheart’s thoughts, his eyes unfocused as he lost himself to his memories. “The river in the gorge rose nearly as far as the badger sets.”
    Patchpelt shivered. “I remember it well. ThunderClan couldn’t cross the stream to come here for the Gathering.”
    â€œCats were drowned,” the RiverClan queen remembered sadly.
    â€œPrey too,” Crowfur added. “The cats who survived nearly starved.”
    â€œMay StarClan grant it’s not so bad this season!” Patchpelt mewed fervently.
    Crowfur spat, “These young cats would never cope. We were tougher in those days.”
    Fireheart could not help protesting. “We have strong warriors now—”
    â€œWho asked your opinion?” growled the cranky old tom. “You’re hardly more than a kit!”
    â€œBut we—” Fireheart broke off as the air was filled with a shrill yowl and all the cats fell silent. He turned his head to see four cats on top of the Great Rock, silhouettes in the silver moonlight.
    â€œShh!” hissed Patchpelt. “The meeting’s about to start.” He twitched his ears at Fireheart and purred softly, “Take no notice of Crowfur. He’d find fault with StarClan.”
    Fireheart gave Patchpelt a grateful look, tucked his paws under him, and settled down to listen.
    Tallstar, the WindClan leader, began by announcing how his cats were recovering after the recent battle against RiverClan and ShadowClan. “One of our elders has died,” he meowed, “but all our warriors will live—to fight another day,” he added meaningfully.
    Nightstar flattened his ears and narrowed his eyes, while Crookedstar let out a threatening growl from deep in his throat.
    Fireheart’s fur prickled. If the leaders started to fight, their cats would fight too. Had it ever happened at a Gathering? he wondered. Surely not even Nightstar, ShadowClan’s bold new leader, would risk the anger of StarClan by breaking the sacred truce!
    As Fireheart apprehensively watched the bristling cats, Bluestar stepped forward. “This is good news, Tallstar,” she meowed smoothly. “All of us should rejoice to hear that WindClan grows strong again.”
    Her blue eyes glowed in the moonlight as she glanced at the leaders of ShadowClan and RiverClan. Nightstar turned away from her gaze, and Crookedstar dipped his head, his expression unreadable.
    It had been ShadowClan, under Brokenstar’s cruel command, who had first driven WindClan away, so