Home > Work > The Spirit-Eaters (Bravelands, #5)
1 " straining "
― Erin Hunter , The Spirit-Eaters (Bravelands, #5)
2 " THE PROPHECIES BEGIN Book One: Into the Wild Book Two: Fire and Ice Book Three: Forest of Secrets Book Four: Rising Storm Book Five: A Dangerous Path Book Six: The Darkest Hour THE NEW PROPHECY Book One: Midnight Book Two: Moonrise Book Three: Dawn Book Four: Starlight Book Five: Twilight Book Six: Sunset "
3 " As a bitter leaf-bare season descends on the lake territories, the five warrior cat Clans face moons of cold and darkness—and far worse, the voices of their ancestors in StarClan have grown dim and silent. Only one medicine cat apprentice still hears them, in a strange vision that warns of a looming shadow within their borders. One that may threaten the warrior code itself. "
4 " Shadowpaw "
5 " Shadowpaw craned his neck over his back, straining to groom the hard-to-reach spot at the base of his tail. He had just managed to give his fur a few vigorous licks when he heard paw steps approaching. He looked up to see his father, Tiger star, and his mother, Dovewing, their pelts brushing as they gazed down at him with pride and joy shining in their eyes. “What is it?” he asked, sitting up and giving his pelt a shake. “We just came to see you off,” Tiger star responded, while Dovewing gave her son’s ears a quick, affectionate lick. Shadowpaw’s fur prickled with embarrassment. Like I haven’t been to the Moonpool before, he thought. They’re still treating me as if I’m a kit in the nursery! He was sure that his parents hadn’t made such a fuss when his littermates, Pouncestep and Lightleap, had been warrior apprentices. I guess it’s because I’m going to be a medicine cat. "
6 " . . . Or maybe because of the seizures he’d had since he was a kit. He knew his parents still worried about him, even though it had been a while since his last upsetting vision. They’re probably hoping that with some training from the other medicine cats, I’ll learn to control my visions once and for all . . . and I can be normal. Shadowpaw wanted that, too. “The snow must be really deep up on the moors,” Dovewing mewed. “Make sure you watch where you’re putting your paws.” Shadowpaw wriggled his shoulders, praying that none of his Clanmates were listening. “I will,” he promised, glancing toward the medicine cats’ den in the hope of seeing his mentor, Puddleshine, emerge. But there was no sign of him yet. To his relief, Tiger star gave Dovewing a nudge and they both moved off toward the Clan leader’s den. Shadowpaw rubbed one paw hastily across his face and bounded across the camp to see what was keeping Puddleshine. Intent on finding his mentor, Shadowpaw barely noticed the patrol trekking toward the fresh-kill pile, prey dangling from their jaws. He skidded to a halt just in time to avoid colliding with Cloverfoot, the Clan deputy. “Shadowpaw!” she exclaimed around the shrew she was carrying. “You nearly knocked me off my paws.” “Sorry, Cloverfoot,” Shadowpaw meowed, dipping his head respectfully. Cloverfoot let out a snort, half annoyed, half amused. “Apprentices!” Shadowpaw tried to hide his irritation. He was an apprentice, yes, but an old one—medicine cat apprentices’ training lasted longer than warriors’. His littermates were full warriors already. But he knew his parents would want him to respect the deputy. Cloverfoot padded on, followed by Strikestone, Yarrowleaf, and Blazefire. Though they were all carrying prey, they had only one or two pieces each, and what little they had managed to catch was undersized and scrawny. “I can’t remember a leaf-bare as cold as this,” Yarrowleaf complained as she dropped a blackbird on the fresh-kill pile. Strikestone nodded, shivering as he fluffed out his brown tabby pelt. “No wonder there’s no prey. They’re all hiding down their holes, and I can’t blame them.” As Shadowpaw moved on, out of earshot, he couldn’t help noticing how pitifully small the fresh-kill pile was, and he tried to ignore his own growling belly. He could hardly remember his first leaf-bare, when he’d been a tiny kit, so he didn’t know if the older cats were right and the weather was unusually cold. I only know I don’t like it, he grumbled to himself as he picked his way through the icy slush that covered the ground of the camp. My paws are so cold I think they’ll drop off. I can’t wait for newleaf! "
7 " hippo-crocodile wars. "
8 " Fat "
