“It’s not up to us to trust him now,” Fireheart pointed out. “What’s the point of knowing the warrior code if all you do is ignore what it says?” “But no cat can trust him,” Graystripe growled. No cat can deny that he could make a good leader-he’s strong, he can fight and hunt, and he knows the warrior code by heart.” “Tigerstar might be different, now he’s got what he wants. “I don’t know what to make of it,” Fireheart admitted. Every cat is talking about Tigerstar.” When Graystripe had been a ThunderClan warrior, he and Fireheart had been the only cats to know the truth about Tigerstar’s murderous ambition, and that he had killed the former ThunderClan deputy, Redtail. The laughter died from Graystripe’s yellow eyes. “Never mind that,” he meowed, changing the subject. Maybe Sandstorm was becoming more than a friend. Graystripe wouldn’t be convinced not matter what he said-and besides, maybe he was right. She’s a very impressive cat.”įireheart opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Oh, sure, if you say so.” He strolled up the slope and lowered his head to butt Fireheart affectionately on the shoulder. His fur suddenly felt hot, and prickled as if ants were crawling through it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fireheart protested.
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