“You can visit her later.” Leafpool was adamant. The two apprentices were bundled out of the entrance. “What happened?” Leafpool’s mew was brittle as she turned to Cloudtail.

The warrior began to explain. “She was jumping over a fallen tree—”

Cinderpaw butted in. “My stupid leg gave way! And now I’ve failed my assessment!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cloudtail tried to reassure her, but Cinderpaw was pulsing with anger.

“Of course it matters!” she snapped. “I don’t want Honeypaw and Poppypaw to move to the warriors’ den without me. I wanted to sit the warriors’ vigil with them, not on my own!”

“I know you’re upset,” Leafpool soothed. “Let’s just see if we can make you more comfortable.” Her mew was calm, but Jaypaw could sense distress crackling beneath her pelt as she began to run her pads over Cinderpaw’s leg. “Nothing broken,” she mewed. “It’s not as bad as before.”

“Feels like it’s worse,” Cinderpaw grumbled.

“You’ve just wrenched the muscles,” Leafpool assured her. “They’ll heal with rest.”

“But why did it give way?”

Leafpool didn’t answer but spoke instead to Cloudtail. “Leave her to me,” she mewed softly. “I’ll let you know how she is as soon as I’ve finished treating her.”

Jaypaw ducked out of the way to let Cloudtail pass as the warrior padded out of the den. He wondered whether he should offer to help, but Leafpool seemed so caught up in Cinderpaw’s injury that he remained quiet, crouching near the entrance, ready if she needed him.

“Why did it give way?” Cinderpaw repeated her question more fiercely. “Didn’t it heal properly last time? Will it always be weak? What if I can never be a warrior?”

Jaypaw felt Leafpool’s rush of panic like a hot wind flattening his pelt.

“You’ll be fine,” Leafpool soothed. “I’ve made a poultice.” She padded to the back of the den. Jaypaw smelled the tang of nettle and comfrey in the ointment she brought back and began smoothing over Cinderpaw’s leg. “Take these poppy seeds,” Leafpool advised. “They’ll help you to rest.”

Jaypaw listened as Cinderpaw’s breathing slowed and deepened. Leafpool sat motionless beside her, and only when Cinderpaw finally drifted into sleep did she turn away.

Surprise pricked from her when she saw Jaypaw. “Are you still here?”

Jaypaw sat up, stiff from crouching so long. “I wouldn’t leave while we had a patient.”

“I thought you’d gone out with the others,” Leafpool murmured absently.

“You shouldn’t have told Cloudtail she was ready for her assessment.”

“That’s not for you to judge.” Leafpool’s voice quavered.

“You didn’t even watch a training session to make sure she was fully fit.”

“You don’t understand!”

“I do,” Jaypaw answered quietly. He nodded toward the cave entrance, beckoning Leafpool outside. She followed him to the bramble patch. No one would overhear them there.