Эрин Хантер - Thunder Аnd Shadow

“We’ve noticed,” Stonewing grum bled.

Tawny pelt ignored him. “Until they’re well, you can make y our nests in the elders’ den.”

“Oh, great.” Strikestone rolled his eyes. “We’ll never be able to sleep! Ratscar snores like a badger.”

“You’ll have to try.” Tawny pelt sounded impatient. “You’ll each have to make two hunting trips today. Tigerheart, can you m entor Lionpaw until Snowbird is well again?”

Tigerheart nodded. “I’ll take her hunting with m e.”

“Good.” Tawny pelt turned to Scorchfur. “Can you concentrate y our training on hunting too? I want the fresh-kill pile well-stocked.” She glanced at the shriveled m ouse and lim p thrush left over from yesterday’s hunt, then blinked at Dawnpelt. “Will you take Violetpaw hunting?”

“I prom ised that she could spend the m orning with her sister,” Dawnpelt told her.

Tawny pelt’s gaze flitted toward Twigpaw. She looked relieved. “Our visitor is finally out of her den.” Twigpaw blinked with surprise as Tawny pelt dipped her head in greeting. “Help y ourself to prey if y ou’re hungry,” she called across the clearing.

“Th-thank y ou.” Twigpaw stam m ered.

Violetpaw brushed against her. “I told y ou. ShadowClan isn’t as bad as ThunderClan say s.”

As she spoke, Mistcloud and Rippletail barged past her, knocking the kits out of the way as they swaggered across the clearing.

“Hey!” Whorlkit shouted after them indignantly. “Watch out!”

The warriors ignored him.

“You’re late for the m orning m eeting,” Tawny pelt snapped.

“So?” Rippletail flicked his tail.

“I need every cat out hunting today,” Tawny pelt told him.

Mistcloud puffed out her pelt. “But we spent yesterday hunting. Can’t we patrol borders instead?”

“Borders will have to wait,” Tawny pelt told her. “We have too many sick cats to worry about.”

Rippletail stopped in front of her and rubbed his nose with a paw. “Sick cats don’t eat. Why do we need to catch so much prey?”

Mistcloud mewed in agreem ent. “We only need to catch half as much prey as—”

A y elp cut her short. At the fresh-kill pile, Birchpaw and Lionpaw were tugging the thrush between them, snarling at each other, their jaws tightly clam ped into the bird’s flesh.

Tawny pelt growled at them. “Can’t you just share it?”

Birchpaw threw her a look of disdain and y anked the thrush from his denmate.

Lionpaw glared at him as he carried the bird away.

Twigpaw leaned closer to her sister. “In ThunderClan, apprentices aren’t allowed to eat until they’ve caught prey for their Clan.”

Violetpaw shrugged. “It’s just leftovers from last night.”

Twigpaw’s pelt pricked with surprise. She knew ShadowClan wasn’t ThunderClan, but she’d assum ed they all followed the sam e warrior code.

As Twigpaw wondered how two Clans could be so different, Lionpaw hissed at her brother.

With a growl she raced after him and leaped onto his back. Knocking the thrush from his paws, she began pum m eling him with her hind legs.

“Her claws are unsheathed!” Twigpaw stared in shock as she saw Birchpaw’s fur fly. He struggled to free him self, y owling in pain. Twigpaw turned to the older cats, waiting for one to race across the clearing and separate the fighting cats.

Mistcloud sat down and began washing her belly.

Tawny pelt went on with her orders as though nothing was happening. “Tigerheart.” She nodded to the dark tabby tom. “Hunt around the ditches. There are bound to be m ouse nests around there.”

Twigpaw couldn’t stay quiet. “Aren’t you going to stop them?”

Birchpaw had twisted free and turned on his sister. Slam m ing his paws onto her shoulders, he held her chin to the earth while he raked his claws along her flank. She wailed with pain.

Scorchfur m et Twigpaw’s gaze coolly. “They started it,” he meowed. “Let them finish it.”

“But they might hurt each other!” Twigpaw gasped.

Mistcloud looked up. “If they do, it’s their own fault.”

Twigpaw raced toward the fighting cats. “Stop!” Hooking her claws into Birchpaw’s scruff, she hauled him away from his sister.

His eyes flashed with rage. He swung out at her and raked her m uzzle. Surprised, she staggered, pain scorching through her. Lionpaw j um ped to her paws and swiped at her, hissing.

Alarm spiraled into Twigpaw’s chest as both apprentices turned on her. She batted them away, try ing not to hurt them.

“Stop!” Tawny pelt’s y owl cut across the clearing. The she-cat bounded toward them, barging into the fight and pushing the ShadowClan apprentices away. “Crowfrost prom ised that she wouldn’t be hurt.”

As Twigpaw backed away, Violetpaw rushed to her side. “You should have just let them fight it out.”

Twigpaw stared at her sister, trem bling. “Is this normal ?”

Violetpaw m et her gaze, puzzled. “Isn’t ThunderClan like this?”

“No!” Twigpaw could hardly believe her ears. She glanced around the clearing at the unruffled warriors and the scratched and bleeding apprentices. None of them seem ed shocked by what had happened. Whorlkit and Flowerkit were watching, their eyes bright with excitem ent.

“Why did you stop them?” Whorlkit hurried to Twigpaw’s side.

Flowerkit j oined him. “Now we won’t know who would have won.”

Twigpaw felt sick. I want to go home! She suddenly felt a surge of anxiety for Violetpaw. She grew up here. Is she like this too? No wonder she joined the rogues! As her thoughts swirled, the entrance to the warriors’ den trem bled and Puddleshine stum bled out.

The medicine cat’s eyes were clouded with exhaustion.

“How are the sick cats?” Tawny pelt padded toward him.

“I’m doing the best I can,” Puddleshine glanced back at the den. “I need more tansy and borage.”

“Lionpaw and Birchpaw can gather som e for y ou,” Tawny pelt told him.

Lionpaw huffed. “Do we have to? Herb gathering is boring.” She seem ed unruffled by her fight.

“Yes, you do,” Tawny pelt told her sternly. “Dawnpelt can go with you to make sure you don’t get distracted.”

“We’ll go when we’ve finished eating,” Lionpaw told the tortoiseshell. She leaned down and took a bite from the thrush, which was covered in dirt from the fight.

Birchpaw rubbed a streak of blood from his m uzzle and settled beside her to eat.

Twigpaw stared at them. Why had they fought over the thrush if they were going to share it any way? And how could they eat when their sick Clanmates needed herbs? “I can help.” She hurried to Puddleshine’s side. “I used to help Alderpaw. I know what borage and tansy look like. I can gather som e now if you like.”

“No.” Tawny pelt’s gaze flashed toward her. “You’re not to leave camp.”

“Then let m e do som ething else to help.” Twigpaw looked pleadingly at Puddleshine. His fur was dull and his ribs were showing through his pelt. He clearly hadn’t slept or eaten properly in day s. “I’ll fetch you som e food.” Twigpaw hurried to the fresh-kill pile and grabbed the shriveled m ouse. She carried it back to Puddleshine and dropped it at his paws. “Eat this. I’ll check on the sick cats.”

Puddleshine stared at her gratefully. “Oakfur needs water.”

“I can do that,” Twigpaw told him.

“Kinkfur too.” He crouched stiffly and began gnawing at the m ouse. “There’s m oss at the back of the warriors’ den, but it needs soaking.”

Twigpaw beckoned Violetpaw with a j erk of her nose. “Come and help.”

Tawny pelt was staring at her in surprise. “This is very kind of y ou.”