“Whitestorm answered her. “I suspect ShadowClan is not as weak as we thought it would be. And Nightpelt seems to have more ambition than any cat expected.” “But why does RiverClan want to hunt WindClan’s grounds? They have always grown fat on the fish from their precious river!” yowled Willowpelt. “The uplands are a long way to go for a few windblown rabbits!” The once-beautiful queen, Dappletail, spoke up in a voice cracked with age. “At the Gathering, some of the RiverClan elders spoke of Twolegs taking over part of their river.” “That’s right,” added Frostfur. “They say Twolegs have been living in shelters beside the river, disturbing the fish. The RiverClan cats have had to hide in the bushes and watch them with empty stomachs!” Bluestar looked thoughtful. “For now, we must be careful to do nothing that may bring ShadowClan and RiverClan closer together. Go and rest now. Runningwind and Dustpaw, you will take the dawn patrol.” A cold breeze rattled the dying leaves in the trees overhead. The cats, still murmuring amongst themselves, went to their dens. For the second night in a row, Fireheart dreamed. He was standing in the dark. The roar and the stench of a Thunderpath was very close by. Fireheart felt himself buffeted and blinded by the monsters that roared up and down with glaring eyes. Suddenly, through the din, Fireheart heard the pitiful cry of a young cat. The desperate wail sliced through the thundering of the monsters. Fireheart awoke with a start. For a moment he thought that the cry had woken him. But the only noise was the muffled snores of”
―
Erin Hunter,
Fire and Ice
