Эрин Хантер - Thunder Аnd Shadow

Twigpaw blinked at her. “Since I have to stay here, I might as well be useful.” Flicking her tail, she padded into the warriors’ den.

A sour stench hit her as she padded into the gloom.

Violetpaw followed her in. “Ewww.”

“Ignore the sm ell.” Twigpaw had spent enough time in ThunderClan’s medicine den to recognize the scent of sickness. But she’d never sm elled it this strongly before. She crouched beside the nest closest to the entrance. An old tom lay as lim p as prey, his fur m atted, on the stinking m oss. “Who’s this?” Twigpaw whispered to Violetpaw.

“It’s Oakfur,” Violetpaw told her. “One of our elders.” She m oved on to the next nest. “This is Kinkfur.” A ragged she-cat lolled restlessly in a filthy nest.

A few nests away, a black she-cat lifted her head weakly. “My throat hurts.”

Violetpaw blinked at her. “We’re going to fetch you water, Pinenose. It’ll help.” She padded between other nests, where cats lay m oaning, and stopped beside a sm all nest near the back to the den. A young queen crouched beside it, gazing anxiously at a she-kit squirm ing on the dam p bracken.

“Hi, Grassheart,” Violetpaw mewed softly. “How’s Snakekit?”

Grassheart blinked at her, her eyes glittering. “I’ve never seen her this ill.”

Snakekit m oaned, and Grassheart ran a soothing paw along her flank.

Twigpaw shivered. These cats were really sick! Suddenly she understood the desperation that had driven Crowfrost to keep her here. ShadowClan needed lungwort badly. Anger surged beneath her pelt. If only Onestar could see the suffering he was causing by his stubbornness!

She faced Violetpaw. “Where do you soak m oss?”

“There’s a puddle beside the elders’ den,” Violetpaw told her.

“Good.” Padding to the back of the den, Twigpaw spotted the pile of m oss Puddleshine had m entioned. She grabbed a thick wad between her jaws and headed out of the den.

Violetpaw followed, carry ing more. They passed Birchpaw and Lionpaw as they bounded out of camp behind Scorchfur and Tigerheart. Violetpaw slipped ahead and led Twigpaw to the puddle. The water was clear, pooled in a hollow lined with bracken. Twigpaw dropped her m oss in. “One we’ve m ade sure every cat has water, we can gather fresh bedding.” She glanced around the camp, relieved to see bracken crowding one corner.

Violetpaw blinked at her. “How do you know what to do?” She sounded im pressed.

“I used to hang out in the medicine den,” Twigpaw explained. “I guess I learned a lot.” She leaned down and plucked the dripping m oss from the puddle, then hurried back toward the den.

As Violetpaw carried m oss to Pinenose’s nest, Twigpaw crouched beside Oakfur. The old tom’s eyes were closed. She nosed the wet m oss closer to his cheek. “Can you lap just a little?” she coaxed.

Oakfur grunted, not opening his eyes. Lifting the m oss between her teeth, Twigpaw held it to the tom’s lips, pressing it gently so that water ran into his m outh. Oakfur twitched and coughed, and then he swallowed.

Violetpaw looked at her from Pinenose’s nest. “She won’t drink.” Worry darkened her gaze.

“It hurts to swallow,” the black she-cat rasped.

“Let m e try.” Twigpaw crossed the den and nudged Violetpaw aside. “Can you fetch water for Kinkfur and the others, please?”

Violetpaw nodded quickly and headed for the entrance, pausing only to snatch the m oss from Oakfur’s nest.

“I know it hurts, but you need to drink.” Twigpaw held the dripping m oss against the queen’s m outh. Pinenose’s eyes flickered open as the m oisture dripped along her jaws. She parted her lips and swallowed, coughing. Then she drew back, her eyes opening fully. She stared at Twigpaw.

“Violetpaw?” she mewed hazily. “Is that y ou?”

“I’m her sister,” Twigpaw told her gently.

“You’re Lionpaw? My kit?” Pinenose looked confused. Her gaze darted anxiously around the clearing. “Where are Puddleshine and Birchpaw? I want you all near m e.”

“Puddleshine is eating,” Twigpaw told her gently.

“What about Birchpaw?” Panic flashed in the queen’s glassy gaze.

“Is he y our kit too?”

“Yes.” Pinenose pushed herself weakly to her paws. “Is he okay? He’s not sick, is he?”

“He’s fine,” Twigpaw soothed, easing Pinenose back onto her belly.

“What about y ou, Lionpaw?” Pinenose blinked at her. “Are you sick?”

“No.” Twigpaw wondered whether to tell Pinenose that she wasn’t Lionpaw. But Pinenose was staring at her so desperately that she hesitated. She couldn’t remember any one looking at her like that before.

“I want Birchpaw,” Pinenose rasped. “I want him here. With you and Puddleshine.”

“He’s out training.”

“But I need him.” Desperation filled Pinenose’s eyes.

“I’m here.” Twigpaw’s throat tightened. Did Lionpaw realize how much her mother loved her?

“Pinenose?” Puddleshine padded into the den.

Pinenose’s gaze softened, as though just seeing another of her kits eased her pain.

Twigpaw m oved aside as Pinenose crouched in her place. “We’re giving all the cats water,” she told him. “Then we’ll fetch fresh bracken for their nests.”

Puddleshine blinked at her wearily. “They need more herbs.”

“Have you got any?” Twigpaw scanned the den.

Puddleshine nodded to a pile of shredded leaves. “There’s tansy, coltsfoot, and borage.”

Tiredness slurred his words. “I need to chew it into a pulp so that they can swallow it.”

“I can do that,” Twigpaw told him.

Puddleshine stared at her. “You’re not a medicine cat.”

“I used to help Jayfeather and Alderpaw.” Twigpaw padded to the herbs. “You need to rest.

You’ll be no help to y our Clanmates if you collapse from exhaustion.”

Puddleshine’s tail drooped. “I might close m y eyes for a m om ent.” He rested his chin on his mother’s nest. Pinenose relaxed beside him, her wheezing breath ruffling his fur.

As Puddleshine’s eyes slowly closed and his breath deepened into sleep, Twigpaw crouched over the herb pile. She took a m outhful as she’d seen Alderpaw do and began chewing the leaves to a pulp.

Violetpaw trotted into the den, dripping m oss dangling from her jaws.

Twigpaw nodded toward the sleeping medicine cat, hoping Violetpaw wouldn’t wake him.

Violetpaw blinked at Puddleshine, her gaze softening as she saw him. She placed the wet m oss beside Oakfur and hurried to Twigpaw’s side. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I’m giving herbs to the sick cats while Puddleshine rests.” Twigpaw padded to Oakfur’s nest and spat pulp onto her paw. As she sm eared it around the sick tom’s lips, she felt his rough tongue graze her pad. He was licking the herbs. “When y ou’ve given the others water, can you gather bracken so that we can make them clean nests?”

“Of course.” Violetpaw headed out of the den.

Twigpaw watched her leave, relief washing her pelt. Violetpaw did want to help her Clanmates. Growing up here hadn’t m ade her like Birchpaw and Lionpaw. In fact, she hardly seem ed like a ShadowClan cat at all.

Stiff with tiredness, Twigpaw curled into the nest beside Violetpaw. Birchpaw and Lionpaw had fallen asleep ages ago, their bellies full of the prey the sick cats couldn’t eat. Her sister sat up, washing.

“I’m too tired to wash,” Twigpaw whispered.

“I want to get the stench of herbs out of m y fur,” Violetpaw answered between licks.

Twigpaw had already cleaned the pulp from her paws, although the taste lingered in her m outh despite the two shrews she’d gulped down at sunset. Worry still worm ed in her belly.