Эрин Хантер - Thunder Аnd Shadow

Strikepaw glared at his father. “If you treated us better, we might try harder,” he snarled.

“Don’t forget there are nearly as many of us as there are of y ou. You’d be wise to give us a little more respect.”

Was that a threat? Violetkit stared at him, her m outh open. She shifted her paws uneasily. The apprentices were edging nearer to Needlepaw, as though gaining confidence with every complaint. Had they planned this rebellion, or had Needlepaw’s boldness sparked resentm ents that had been sim m ering for moons?

Yarrowpaw and Juniperpaw flicked their tails irritably. Beepaw padded from the fresh-kill pile to j oin them.

“Respect!” Rowanstar narrowed his eyes. “Respect has to be earned .” His growl was hard.

Beepaw tipped her head. “I don’t see the older cats earning any respect. All they do is hunt and sleep.”

Snowbird padded forward quickly, her pelt ruffled. “Beepaw!” She blinked at her daughter anxiously. “You mustn’t speak about your elders like that.”

“Why not?” Beepaw m oved closer to Yarrowpaw. “ You taught us that ShadowClan cats can say what they like.”

Alarm sparked in Snowbird’s gaze as her kits stared at her petulantly. “Where has all this come from?”

Beepaw stared at her mother. “If you ever listened instead of just talking, y ou’d know.”

Crowfrost fluffed out his fur, his nervous gaze on his own kits. Sleekpaw, Juniperpaw, and Strikepaw were bunched close, staring questioningly at Rowanstar.

Sleekpaw lashed her tail. “The elders used to tell stories about how ShadowClan was feared by the other Clans,” she meowed. “Now we only try to make peace.”

Strikepaw snorted. “We hide behind our borders like kitty pets.”

“It’s true!” Juniperpaw agreed. “Not even WindClan respects us any more. At the last

Gathering, Fernpaw called us a bunch of frog-eaters. In the old day s, apprentices from other Clans didn’t even dare speak to us. Ratscar told us that ThunderClan used to tell nursery stories about how terrify ing we were. I bet their nursery stories aren’t so scary now.”

Rowanstar shifted his paws. “Peace brings prey,” he meowed. “Why fight over borders when we have enough prey to feed every cat?”

Ratscar got to his paws. The brown tom’s eyes were narrow. “The apprentices have a point.

ShadowClan used to rule the forest. Now we live like a bunch of ThunderClan cats. All we want is peace and food. We’re hardly better than kitty pets.”

Kinkfur growled. “What nonsense! ShadowClan will always be feared and respected by the other Clans.”

“Even if we’re not feared and respected by our own kits,” Ratscar rasped dry ly.

Oakfur crossed the clearing and faced Rowanstar. “Why can’t the m entors keep their apprentices under control? In m y day, we did what we were told.”

Stonewing shouldered his way through the gathered cats and glared at Juniperpaw. “How could you em barrass m e like this? Haven’t I been a good m entor to y ou? I’ve taught y ou every thing you know.”

Juniperpaw curled his lip. “Cats are born knowing how to hunt and fight. Why do I need you telling me what I already know?”

Stonewing swung his m uzzle accusingly toward Rowanstar. “I warned you the apprentices were getting too big for their pelts.”

Rowanstar glared back at him, pelt spiking. “I shouldn’t have to control your apprentice for y ou.”

Dawnpelt hurried forward and gazed im ploringly at Sleekpaw and her denmates. “I don’t understand why y ou’re so angry. When I was your age, I was proud to be an apprentice,” she mewed. “We all were. We wanted to learn the warrior code.”

“Only because you wanted to be like ThunderClan,” Needlepaw scoffed.

Dawnpelt bristled. “That’s not true!”

Tawny pelt hissed at Needlepaw. “Respect your elders!”

“Not until they respect us!” Sleekpaw butted in.

Angry y owls echoed around the camp. Violetkit shrank against Needlepaw’s flank as the Clan argued around her. Perhaps the warrior code was too restrictive. She’d heard Needlepaw complain about it often enough. But was it worth fighting about? Surely warriors had a code for a reason. Otherwise they’d be nothing but rogues or loners.

“Silence!” Rowanstar leaped onto the low rock at the edge of the clearing and glowered at his Clan. His fur stood on end, and his eyes blazed in the twilight.

The Clan fell silent and watched their leader expectantly.

“Needlepaw.” Rowanstar fixed his furious gaze on the silver apprentice. “You broke a rule and y ou will be punished. You will look after the elders. Clean their bedding, pull out their ticks, and hunt for them. They are your responsibility from now on.”

Needlepaw returned his gaze, unruffled. “For how long?”

Rowanstar showed his teeth. “Until I say so.”

“Okay.” Needlepaw shrugged and turned away. She shouldered her way between her denmates and headed for the fresh-kill pile. Violetkit stared at her. How could she act so cool?

“Violetkit.” Rowanstar’s mew m ade her j um p.

She stared at him, her heart in her throat.

“You shouldn’t have left camp.” The ShadowClan leader’s mew was stern. His gaze flicked toward the nursery. Pinenose watched from outside. He beckoned the queen forward with a flick of his tail. “You should have been keeping a closer eye on her,” he told the queen as she padded toward him.

She dipped her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Rowanstar warned.

Pinenose stopped beside Violetkit. “Couldn’t Grassheart take care of her now?” she mewed hopefully. “Now that m y own kits have left the nursery, I could return to warrior duties.”

Violetkit tried to ignore the hurt j abbing her heart. She’d known for a long time that Pinenose had never been fond of her. Of course she’d rather be hunting than watching me. I’m not her kit.

She sm elled pine and fresh air in the queen’s fur. Had she been out already?

Rowanstar scowled. “I know you miss patrolling and hunting, but it’s Grassheart’s first litter.

She won’t have the time to take care of another kit.”

Violetkit lifted her m uzzle defiantly. “I can take care of m y self.”

Rowanstar’s hopped from the stone and padded closer. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have left the camp today.” He turned to Pinenose. “Look after her. Make sure she learns the warrior code. I don’t want her turning out like them .” He glowered at Sleekpaw and her denmates. “She’s been spending far too much time with Needlepaw.”

Pinenose lowered her gaze. “Okay,” she grunted.

But Needlepaw is my only friend! Violetkit stared at Rowanstar, her heart as heavy as stone.

Now I’ll have no one to talk to! Anger sparking beneath her pelt, Violetkit padded to the nursery and squeezed inside. Grassheart’s kits were squirm ing and mewling in their nest while Grassheart dozed. Violetkit scowled at them. They’d never know what it was like to lose a mother and a sister.

Slinking into the shadows at the edge of the den, she curled up and buried her nose beneath her paw.

“Violetkit!” Needlepaw hissed across the clearing.

Violetkit looked up, blinking in the afternoon sunshine. She was tired after a m orning spent play ing with Grassheart’s kits. Tawny pelt must have kept her word and spoken to her. As soon as she’d woken that m orning, Grassheart had asked her to take Snakekit, Whorlkit, and Flowerkit outside to play. She’d enj oy ed teaching them the rules of m oss-ball and cat and m ouse. For a while she’d felt less alone. But the kits were resting now, snuggled in their nest beside their mother, and Violetkit had nothing to do.