Эрин Хантер - The Silent Thaw

“But I want to see that she’s okay.” Lightleap pricked her ears.

Puddleshine nosed Flaxfoot after her. “If you want to help”—he steered them toward the entrance—“go find four smooth, straight sticks we can use as a splint.”

“Can’t we wait here to see if her paw will be okay?” Lightleap looked pleadingly at Shadowsight.

“I’ll come and find you when we’ve finished treating her,” he promised. “I’ll let you know how she’s doing then.”

“We need those sticks,” Puddleshine told the two young warriors as he ran a gentle paw over Snowbird’s leg.

As Lightleap and Flaxfoot trailed reluctantly from the den, Shadowsight padded to Puddleshine’s side. “Is it broken?” he asked softly.

Puddleshine nodded, avoiding Snowbird’s gaze.

The white she-cat blinked at Shadowsight. “Can you fix it?”

It looked like a nasty break. Shadowsight glanced hopefully at Puddleshine.

Puddleshine began to wrap comfrey around Snowbird’s paw. “The splints will help straighten it, but I don’t want to set the bone until the poppy seeds have started working.” He looked evenly at Snowbird. “I’m afraid it will hurt.”

“I don’t care.” Snowbird lifted her muzzle defiantly. “Just fix it. I don’t want to have a limp.”

Shadowsight caught Puddleshine’s eye. He saw darkness in the medicine cat’s gaze. Would Snowbird’s paw fully heal? Worry settled around his heart. Snowbird was a brave and loyal warrior. How could StarClan have let this happen to her?

Shadowsight hurried through the forest in search of Lightleap and Flaxfoot. They hadn’t returned with the sticks yet. Snowbird was sleeping in the medicine den, her paw wrapped in thick layers of comfrey. He tasted the air, picking up Lightleap’s trail. Flaxfoot’s scent mingled with it. He followed the warriors’ trail through the woods, where melting snow was still piled between roots and heaped on branches, dripping as the thaw set in for good. In a few days, the snow would be gone. Perhaps he’d feel less worried when newleaf was here. There’d be as much prey for ShadowClan as for the other Clans, and, with a full belly again, he’d feel better. His conversation with Tigerstar still nagged at his thoughts. Perhaps his father was right and he should keep the secret of the codebreakers to himself. Everything might work itself out. StarClan would return soon. After all, StarClan had always helped in the past. Why would it stop now?

He paused and scanned the trees. There was no sign of Lightleap and Flaxfoot here. Had the two warriors found the sticks and headed back to camp? He turned and followed the scent trail back the way he’d come, wondering why he hadn’t seen them. The trail veered and he quickened his step. A creak overhead made him look up. Above him, a heap of snow slithered from a branch and plummeted down. It hit him with a thud and engulfed him, knocking him off his paws. He struggled up and burst out of the drift, his eyes and ears filled with snow. Clambering onto the top of the pile, he shook out his fur and rubbed the snow from his face with a paw. Of all the trees in the forest, why did he have to be walking under this one? He glanced up indignantly, questions flashing in his mind. Why me? Why now? Why did ShadowClan have less prey than the other Clans? Why had Snowbird hurt her paw so badly?

His pelt pricked uneasily. Was StarClan trying to tell him something? He’d been hoping all day that they’d send him a sign. Perhaps this was it. If they didn’t want to speak to the Clan through the Moonpool, there were other ways to communicate. Shadowsight felt suddenly cold, and not just because the melting snow was seeping into his pelt. He hurried toward camp. The sticks could wait. He wanted to check on Snowbird. What if StarClan thought he hadn’t understood their message? Could they make her injury worse? I can’t believe that StarClan would want to hurt any cat. As he remembered what he’d told his father, doubt tugged in his belly. Perhaps StarClan would let one cat suffer if it helped all the rest. Was this their way of telling him that they wanted him to share his vision?

His heart quickened as he neared camp. Anxious mews sounded from beyond the bramble wall. Puddleshine was issuing orders. “Take him to the medicine den! Fetch cobwebs!” Shadowsight tasted the air, panic flashing beneath his pelt as its iron tang touched his tongue. Blood! He raced into camp.

As he burst from the entrance, he saw Stonewing, Antfur, and Scorchfur limping toward the medicine den. Dovewing was with them, tufts of fur sticking out of her pelt.

“What happened?” He hurried toward them. Had foxes found the patrol? Had another Clan invaded? His pelt spiked with alarm. “Were you attacked?”

Dovewing turned to meet him, her eyes wide. “A branch fell.” She was breathing rapidly. “It hit Antfur and Scorchfur.”

“Are you hurt?” Shadowsight scanned his mother’s pelt frantically. Despite the tufts of fur, she didn’t look too badly injured, although one ear was torn.

“I’m okay,” she told him. “Antfur got the worst of it.” She glanced toward the small brown-and-black tom. His eyes were glazed as Stonewing and Puddleshine guided him into the medicine den. “He was knocked unconscious. We had to carry him back.”

“And the others?” Shadowsight blinked at Scorchfur. The dark gray tom’s pelt was ragged as he limped after his Clanmates as though every paw step hurt.

“Scorchfur is badly bruised,” Dovewing told him. “I don’t think any bones are broken, though. Stonewing’s tail got trapped. We had to scoop out the earth underneath the branch to get him free.”

As Dovewing’s green eyes clouded with shock, Tigerstar padded from his den. He blinked as he saw Dovewing, his pelt bushing. “What hurt you?” He raced across the clearing, scrambling to a halt beside her and sniffing her pelt anxiously.

“A falling branch.” Dovewing nodded toward the medicine-den entrance. “Antfur’s been hurt, and Scorchfur. You’d better take a look.”

Tigerstar stared at her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded shakily. “I just want to go to our den and rest.”

“Of course.” He guided her away. “I’ll look in on the others once I’ve made sure you’re comfortable.” He looked at Shadowsight. “Will you take care of them while I see to your mother?”

“Of course.” Shadowsight gave his mother an anxious glance.

“I’ll be okay,” Dovewing reassured him. “I just need to rest. Go help Puddleshine.”

Nodding, Shadowsight ducked into the medicine den. Snowbird was still asleep. Scorchfur lay in one of the old nests, his eyes closed, but breathing steadily. Stonewing was gingerly licking his battered tail. Puddleshine leaned into a nest at the far end of the den where Antfur sat up straight, staring blankly ahead.

“What’s wrong with him?” Shadowsight hurried to his nest.

“No broken bones,” Puddleshine told him without taking his eyes off Antfur. “But the branch caught him on the head.”

There was a gash behind his ear, not that Antfur seemed to notice. He glanced strangely at Shadowsight. “Are you one of those forest cats?” He looked confused for a moment, then blinked and looked away. “I need to scavenge,” he mewed to no cat in particular. “There are hungry cats here. I know where the scrapcans are.”

Shadowsight frowned as he recognized the words from when he was a young kit. “He thinks he’s back in the city,” he whispered to Puddleshine.

“He’s dazed.” Puddleshine looked uneasily at the tom. “Rest might help.”

Antfur tried to step out of the nest. “Let’s go scavenging.”

“We can scavenge later.” Puddleshine nudged him back. “You have to rest now.”