“That’s better!” Thistleclaw growled. “Now you’re fighting like a warrior!”

His powerful claws sank into Antpelt’s shoulders and he shook him like a fox. Ivypool watched in dismay as blood sprang into the WindClan warrior’s fur; the hot reek of it caught in her throat.

“Thistleclaw, that’s enough!” she yowled.

The warrior ignored her. Stretching out his neck he fastened his teeth in Antpelt’s scruff and tossed him down the heap, to land hard on the ground in front of Ivypool.

Antpelt was moving feebly, trying to rise to his paws, only to flop down again with a groan. Horrified, Ivypool crouched beside him, reaching out to part his fur and find out where the blood was coming from.

“Leave him!” Thistleclaw ordered from the top of the heap. “He lost the battle, that’s all.”

“But he’s hurt!” Ivypool protested.

“He’ll mend,” the warrior growled. He began pacing down the trunks toward the two young warriors.

Before he could reach them, Ivypool bent over Antpelt and whispered close to his ear, “Wake up! You’re not really here, you’re in your nest in WindClan.”

Thistleclaw’s paw steps were growing closer.

“Quick!” Ivypool hissed.

Antpelt replied with a whimper. Ivypool stroked her paw across his shoulder and to her relief he let out a long sigh and his eyes closed. As he sank into sleep, his shape quivered, then vanished, leaving nothing behind but a few clots of blood on the grass.

At the same moment, Thistleclaw sprang to the ground, his green eyes blazing with fury. “Coward!” he spat, glaring at the spot where Antpelt had vanished. “Is that why WindClan cats run so fast—so they can flee?”

“I always knew he was fox-hearted.” Ivypool was well aware that she had to agree with Thistleclaw. “Now I haven’t got any cat to practice with.”

“Oh, yes, you have.” Thistleclaw turned his gaze on her and swiped his tongue around his lips as if he was anticipating a particularly juicy piece of prey. “You can fight me.”

Ivypool’s heart began pounding so hard that she thought it would leap out of her jaws. “Okay,” she mewed, trying to sound eager.

Before she could take a breath, the warrior hurled himself at her, carrying her off her paws so that she landed with a thump on the ground, his weight on top of her. His claws lashed at her shoulders. Instinctively, Ivypool went limp. When she felt Thistleclaw relax she wriggled out from under him and aimed a couple of swift blows to his side before she sprang out of range.

Her head was spinning with weariness and her paws felt heavy as stones, but Thistleclaw’s hiss of annoyance gave her strength. As he swung around to attack her again, she crouched down, waiting for him, her tail lashing from side to side. When Thistleclaw leaped, Ivypool slid forward underneath his belly and came up behind him, clawing his hindquarters. His tail lashed across her face and she bit down on it hard, rejoicing to hear his yowl of pain. Yanking his tail free, Thistleclaw spun around on her faster than she would have thought possible. Through blurred, tired vision Ivypool watched him, trying to work out where he would spring. As he launched himself into the air she dodged aside, but he flung out one paw and batted her to the ground. Ivypool let out a screech as they rolled on the grass together, clawing at each other’s fur.