WA R R I O R S S U PE R E D I T I O N : T I G E R H E A R T ’ S S H A D OW
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Tigerheart blinked at him. “Don’t worry, Puddleshine. I know exactly what to do.” He dipped his head to the medicine cat. “Thank you for helping me.” “Where are you going?” Puddleshine called as Tigerheart turned to leave the den. “I need to get some sleep,” Tigerheart told him. It was true. He hadn’t slept well in days. But he wasn’t going to sleep now. He had something far more important to do. “Go back to your nest,” he told Puddleshine, and hurried out into the rain. He scanned the clearing. There was no sign of movement. He could only smell the warm scent of sleeping cats curled in damp nests. He checked Puddleshine’s den. The medicine cat hadn’t followed him out. He pricked his ears and heard the rustle of Puddleshine’s nest as the tom climbed back into it. Dipping his head in farewell to his sleeping Clan, he crept quietly to the camp entrance. He slunk through the tunnel and padded softly into the forest. Only when he was clear of the camp and felt sure the pounding of the rain would disguise the sound of his paw steps did he break into a run. I’m coming, Dovewing. For the first time in days, his heart felt light. It chimed in harmony with his thoughts. He raced for the Thunderpath, like a bird flying for warmer lands, not knowing what his journey held, but certain that he must make it—that making it was the most natural thing he could do. Somewhere, far beyond the Thunderpath, Dovewing was managing alone. He was going to find her and, in another moon, welcome his kits to their new home in the strange gorse-spined den.
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6/27/17 3:08 PM