767 Quotes by Erin Hunter

It’s never going to be the same,” he muttered despondently. “Next newleaf, you’ll see,” Fireheart replied, trying to cheer him up. He hoped Graystripe was only referring to the damage caused by the fire, and not a sense that he could never recover his old place within the Clan. “Everything will grow back stronger than before.

With this life I give you patience.” It was Goosefeather’s turn. His gaze was lucid, his voice gentle. “You will need it.

He knew he had been unfair, but they had asked a question he wasn’t ready to answer, a question so frightening that he couldn’t begin to think what it might mean. What if Bluestar never recovered?

He hoped that if he ever had to choose, he really would put his Clan before his brother.

Crowfeather gave her a long look, hostility and something else in his eyes. He seemed about to say something, then just nodded and headed out of the camp.

The cold air chilled Firepaw’s bones as blackness wrapped itself around him.

Ignore him,” Goldenflower advised. “He’s so full of himself that he’s got no room left for brains.

Ahead of them, the tunnel was lit by a narrow hole in the ceiling that led to the wasteland above. Fireheart could see many cats huddled together in the gray light – warriors and elders, queens and kits, all pitifully thin. A cold breeze blew relentlessly through the hole in the roof, stirring the thin fur on the skinny bodies. Fireheart shuddered, for the breeze carried to him the stench of sickness and crowfood.

We need a rest and a meal more than you can imagine,” Firestar meowed. Ravenpaw gazed at his friend’s mud-stained pelt. “Oh, Firestar,” he murmured, “I think I can imagine.