Free Warriors: Power of Three 01 - The Sight by Erin Hunter

clearing. I’m sure she’ll keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t get into any mischief.”
    Happy to be able to leave the nursery without breaking any rules, Hollykit hurried out into the clearing, Lionkit on her heels. But the taste of dock had ruined her appetite, and she followed Lionkit to the fresh-kill pile without enthusiasm.
    Mousepaw, Hazelpaw, and Berrypaw still sat in the flattened grass patch in front of their den. Mousepaw could hardly keep still. “Brambleclaw told me that our assessment would begin after sunhigh,” he mewed excitedly.
    Hollykit pricked her ears. Daisy’s kits had been training for nearly four moons. It wouldn’t be long before they would be made warriors.
    â€œWho’s assessing us?” Berrypaw asked anxiously.
    â€œBrambleclaw wouldn’t tell me,” Mousepaw replied.
    â€œDo you think it’ll be Firestar himself?” Hazelpaw’s tail twitched with excitement.
    â€œDon’t say that!” Berrypaw breathed. “I won’t remember any of my training if I think he’s watching!”
    â€œCan we hunt together?” Hazelpaw asked.
    â€œSpiderleg said it was up to us,” Mousepaw reported.
    Ashfur and Whitewing were sharing tongues nearby. Ashfur’s whiskers twitched with amusement as he overheard the apprentices talking. “You’d be wiser splitting up!” he called over. “On your own, you might just manage to surprise your prey, but the three of you clumping through the forest will scare everything from here to sun-drown-place!”
    Whitewing poked him with her snowy paw. “Don’t tease them, Ashfur!” she scolded. “You were an apprentice once. You must remember how tense you were about your first assessment.”
    Brook trotted through the entrance carrying three mice by their tails. Hollykit watched as the Tribe cat dropped her catch on the fresh-kill pile.
    Lionkit helped himself to one and began to eat hungrily. “Thanks, Brook,” he mewed with his mouth full.
    Brook eyed him with her soft gray gaze. “You should eat more slowly,” she advised. “In the mountains we say that prey eaten slowly feeds us longer.”
    Lionkit looked at her in surprise. “Okay.” He nodded and began to chew more carefully.
    Hollykit watched as the mountain cat twisted to smooth down her brown tabby pelt. She had always liked the sound of Brook’s mew—it was low and strange compared with the forest cats’.
    A yowl sounded outside the camp entrance, followed by a threatening hiss. Hollykit recognized Honeypaw’s voice.
    Honeypaw’s mentor, Sandstorm, raced toward the entrance tunnel. “Honeypaw?” she called. “What is it?”
    Hollykit held her breath. Was the camp being attacked?
    Then she heard a friendly yowl of greeting. Sandstorm returned through the thorn tunnel, leading Mothwing, the RiverClan medicine cat, and her apprentice, Willowpaw. Honeypaw padded after them, her tail bristling with embarrassment.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she mewed. “I didn’t realize who it was. I just smelled RiverClan.”
    Sandstorm reassured her apprentice with an old nursery saying: “It’s better to scare off a mouse than welcome a badger.”
    Hollykit’s heart leaped like a fish at the sight of Willowpaw. She had met the medicine cat apprentice once before, when Mothwing had brought precious supplies of catmint from the clump that grew in a sheltered part of RiverClan territory. Leafpool had welcomed the gift, since the patch that grew near the abandoned Twoleg nest in ThunderClan territory had been killed by frost. Hollykit had spoken to Willowpaw then because she wanted to find outwhat it was like to belong to a different Clan. But this time she wanted to find out something else: how to become a medicine cat’s apprentice.
    While Sandstorm went to find Leafpool, Hollykit scampered across the clearing toward