“Why?” Squirrelpaw asked. “What are badgers like? Are they a problem?”
“Are they ever!” Brambleclaw growled. “They’re no good to any cat, and they’d kill you as soon as look at you.”
Squirrelpaw’s eyes widened, though she looked more impressed than frightened.
Ashfur cautiously approached the dark cave mouth, sniffed, and peered inside. “It’s dark as a fox’s heart in there,” he reported, “but I don’t think the badger is at home.”
While he was speaking Brambleclaw suddenly caught the scent again, much stronger this time, washing over him from somewhere behind them. He leaped around to see a pointed, striped face appear from behind the trunk of a nearby tree, its huge pads crushing the grass, its muzzle snuffling along the ground.
“Look out!” he yowled, every hair on his pelt bristling in fear. He had never been this close to a badger before. Whirling around, he dashed out into the clearing. “Squirrelpaw, run!”
As soon as Brambleclaw gave the alarm, Ashfur dived into the undergrowth, while Thornclaw bounded toward the safety of the trees. But Squirrelpaw stayed where she was, her gaze fixed on the huge creature.
“This way, Squirrelpaw!” Thornclaw called, starting to come back.
The apprentice still hesitated; Brambleclaw barrelled into her, thrusting her toward the trees. “I said run!”
Her green eyes, blazing with fear and excitement, met his for a heartbeat. The badger was lumbering forward, its small eyes glittering as it scented cats intruding onto its territory. Squirrelpaw pelted toward the edge of the clearing and launched herself up the nearest tree. Reaching a low branch she dug in her claws and crouched there, her ginger fur fluffed out.
Brambleclaw clawed his way up beside her. Down below the badger was blundering back and forth, as if it could not tell where the cats had gone. Its black-and-white head swung threateningly from side to side. Brambleclaw knew that it could not see very well; usually badgers only came out after dark, and this one would be on its way back to the cave after a night’s feeding on worms and grubs.
“Would it eat us?” Squirrelpaw asked breathlessly.
“No,” Brambleclaw replied, trying to slow his pounding heart. “Even a fox kills to eat, but a badger will kill you just for getting in its way. We’re not prey to them, but they won’t tolerate any trespassers on their territory. Why did you hang about down there instead of running like we told you?”
“I’ve never seen a badger before, and I wanted to. Dustpelt says we should get all the experience we can.”
“Does that include the experience of having your fur ripped off?” Brambleclaw asked dryly, but for once Squirrel paw didn’t reply.
While he was speaking Brambleclaw hadn’t taken his eyes off the creature below. He breathed a sigh of relief as it gave up the search and padded over to the cave mouth, where it squeezed itself inside and was gone.
Thornclaw leaped down from the tree where he had taken refuge. “That was closer than I’d like,” he meowed as Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw scrambled down to join him. “Where’s Ashfur?”
“Here.” Ashfur’s pale grey head popped out of a tangle of briars. “Do you think that badger is the same one that killed Willowpelt last leaf-bare?”
“Maybe,” Thornclaw replied. “Cloudtail and Mousefur drove it away from the camp, but we never found out where it went.”
A pang of sadness went through Brambleclaw as he remembered the silver-grey she-cat. Willowpelt was the mother of Sorreltail, Sootfur, and Rainwhisker, but she had not lived to see her kits become warriors.
“So what are we going to do about it?” Squirrelpaw asked eagerly. “Shall we go in there and kill it? There are four of us, and only one badger. How hard could it be?”
Brambleclaw winced, while Thornclaw closed his eyes and waited a moment before speaking. “Squirrelpaw, you never go into a badger’s den. Or a fox’s, for that matter. They’ll attack right away, there isn’t enough room to manoeuvre, and you can’t see what you’re doing.”
“But—”
“No. We’ll head back to camp and report it. Firestar will decide what to do.”
Without waiting for Squirrelpaw to argue any more, he set off in the direction they had come. Ashfur fell in behind him, but Squirrelpaw paused at the edge of the clearing. “We could have dealt with it,” she grumbled, glancing back longingly at the dark mouth of the cave. “I could have lured it out, and then—”
“And then it would have killed you with one swipe of its paw, and we’d still have to go back and report it,” Brambleclaw meowed discouragingly. “What do you think we would have said? ‘Sorry, Firestar, but we accidentally let a badger get your daughter’? He would have our fur off. Badgers are bad news, and that’s that.”
“Well, you wouldn’t catch Firestar leaving a badger in ThunderClan territory without doing anything.” Squirrel paw swung her tail up defiantly and plunged into the undergrowth to catch up with Thornclaw and Ashfur.
Brambleclaw raised his eyes, murmured, “Great StarClan!” and followed.
When he emerged from the gorse tunnel into the clearing, the first cat he saw was Dustpelt. The brown tabby warrior was pacing up and down outside the apprentices’ den, his tail lashing from side to side. Two of the other apprentices, Spiderpaw and Whitepaw, were crouched in the shade of the ferns, watching him apprehensively.
As soon as Dustpelt spotted Squirrelpaw, he marched across the clearing towards her.
“Uh-oh,” Squirrelpaw muttered.
“Well?” the tabby warrior’s voice was icy. Brambleclaw winced, knowing how short-tempered he was; the only cat who had never felt the rough side of his tongue was Ferncloud. “What have you got to say for yourself?”
Squirrelpaw met his glare bravely, but there was a quaver in her voice as she replied, “I went on patrol, Dustpelt.”
“Oh, on patrol! I see. And which cat ordered you to go? Greystripe? Firestar?”
“No cat ordered me. But I thought—”
“No, you didn’t think.” Dustpelt’s voice was scathing. “I told you we would train today. Mousefur and Brackenfur took their apprentices to the training hollow to practise their fighting moves. We could have gone with them, but we didn’t, because you weren’t here. Do you realise that every cat has been searching the camp for you?”
Squirrelpaw shook her head, scuffling the ground with her front paws.
“When no cat could find you, Firestar took out a patrol to try following your scent. Did you see anything of him?”
Another shake of the head. Brambleclaw realised that following a scent in the heavy dew that morning would have been next to impossible.
“Your Clan leader has better things to do than chase after apprentices who can’t do as they’re told,” Dustpelt went on. “Thornclaw, why did you let her go with you?”
“I’m sorry, Dustpelt,” Thornclaw apologised. “I thought she’d be safer with us than wandering around the forest by herself.”
Dustpelt snorted. “That’s true.”
“We could still go and do the training,” Squirrelpaw suggested.
“Oh, no. No more training for you until you learn what being an apprentice really means.” Dustpelt paused for a heartbeat. “You can spend the rest of the day looking after the elders. Make sure they have enough fresh-kill. Change their bedding. Go over their pelts for ticks.” He blinked. “I’m sure Cinderpelt has plenty of mouse bile for you.”