Эрин Хантер - The Apprentice's Quest

Needlepaw ignored her. “I’m coming with you now,” she announced.

Cherryfall and Molewhisker exchanged an incredulous glance. “No way!” Cherryfall exclaimed.

“Exactly.” Sandstorm’s voice was brusque.

“You should go back to your own territory.”

“I’m staying, and you can’t stop me,” Needlepaw meowed, quite undeterred. “I know you’re going to look for the thing in the shadows that the prophecy spoke about. And there’s no way I’m going to let you find it just for ThunderClan. Who’s to say ShadowClan can’t have some of that destiny, too?” Her gaze traveled around the group of cats, and her voice grew urgent; Alderpaw sensed that her desperation was about more than seeking what lies in the shadows. “If I can do anything to help the sky clear for my Clan, then I have to do it.”

Alderpaw felt a pang of sympathy for Needlepaw. If I were in her place, I’d want to make sure the sky cleared for ThunderClan, too. But he was taken aback when Needlepaw swung around and spoke to him directly.

“Alderpaw, you’re a medicine cat. You know about this stuff. What do you think?” Her voice softened into a persuasive purr. “ Please let me come.”

Alderpaw felt good to be asked, to know he had this cat’s respect. He knew he shouldn’t like Needlepaw as much as he did. She’s from another Clan, and she breaks rules all the time, and she’s rude about senior warriors… but she’s fun, and different, and she’s really good at hunting and fighting. And she always says exactly what she thinks.

“I… uh… I don’t know,” he stammered uncomfortably. “I’m not sure I—”

“This is Alderpaw’s quest,” Sandstorm broke in, to Alderpaw’s relief. “But even so, he cannot make this decision alone. We must discuss it… in private,” she finished with a stern glare at Needlepaw.

“Sure,” Needlepaw mewed, pausing before she gave one paw a nonchalant lick.

She’s not really casual about this, Alderpaw realized. She’d never admit it, but she’s worried about what we’ll decide.

The ThunderClan cats padded off into the shelter of a clump of trees at the edge of the hollow. Alderpaw noticed that Sandstorm was limping, and the wound in her shoulder was still bleeding.

“Are you okay, Sandstorm?” he asked. “I ought to take a look at that wound.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sandstorm responded with a dismissive twitch of her whiskers.

But Alderpaw wasn’t satisfied. “Give the wound a good lick to clean it,” he told

Sandstorm as soon as they were settled under the trees. “Sparkpaw, find me some cobweb.”

“Ooh, bossy medicine cat!” Sparkpaw exclaimed. “Have you been taking politeness lessons from Jayfeather?” But she started sniffing around in the undergrowth and soon came back with a pawful of cobweb.

By this time Sandstorm had cleaned her wound. Alderpaw examined it thoroughly, glad to see that the bleeding had slowed to a trickle.

“This is all very well,” Sandstorm meowed as Alderpaw fixed the cobweb in place, “but what are we going to do about Needlepaw? I don’t like the thought of her tagging along with us, but she’s too young to be out on her own, and we can’t just send her back to her own territory without any cat to look after her. It’s not safe!”

“I think you’re right,” Cherryfall agreed.

Molewhisker lashed his tail angrily. “The nosy little cat got herself into this mess,” he growled, “and she should get herself out of it!

Cheeky ShadowClan apprentices are not our problem!”

“Well,” Alderpaw began, feeling shy about contradicting a senior warrior, “her nosiness did come in handy when the foxes attacked us.”

Molewhisker grunted. “I suppose so.”

“We would have fought the foxes off eventually,” Sparkpaw meowed. “We don’t need Needlepaw.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Sandstorm sighed. “Alderpaw, Needlepaw was right about one thing: it’s your quest. What do you think?”

“I don’t agree with Molewhisker and Sparkpaw,” Alderpaw admitted, even though he was reluctant to go against his former mentor, and his sister. “I think Needlepaw should come with us. If we try to send her back,” he added, “she’s just going to ignore us and follow us anyway.”

“Maybe,” Molewhisker snorted, “but that’s no reason to welcome her.”

“Okay,” Sandstorm mewed, “since we can’t agree, I’ll make the final decision. Needlepaw will come with us.”

Sparkpaw and Molewhisker exchanged a disappointed look.

“Fine!” Sparkpaw snapped. “But there’s no way we’re telling her what this quest is really about, right?”

Alderpaw couldn’t meet his littermate’s gaze. Even my own Clanmates don’t know what the quest is really about!

Sandstorm caught his eye. “No, we won’t tell her that,” she murmured.

Rising to their paws, the ThunderClan cats padded back into the hollow to tell Needlepaw their decision. On the way, Alderpaw could hear

Cherryfall and Molewhisker muttering just behind him.

“That cat is going to be in a lot of trouble once she gets back to her own territory,” Molewhisker grumbled.

“But that’s not our problem,” Cherryfall responded. “It’s hers!”

While they were away, Needlepaw had obviously been grooming herself, and her sleek silver pelt shone in the growing light of dawn.

Alderpaw, still covered in dust and bits of debris from the fox fight, felt very scruffy by contrast.

“We’ve decided to let you join us,” Sandstorm announced.

Needlepaw raised one paw and examined her claws. “Well, of course you have,” she mewed coolly. “It’s not like you could stop me, anyway.”

Alderpaw’s pelt prickled with irritation at her rudeness, and yet he sensed that Needlepaw was much happier than she was prepared to admit. There’s something sort of… lonely about her, he thought.

As the sky began to flush red where the sun would rise, Alderpaw saw Needlepaw’s face more clearly. And he thought he could see in her eyes how pleased she was to be included.

“Sandstorm,” Alderpaw meowed, “now that the sun is up, I want to have a better look at your shoulder.”

The old she-cat sighed. “I was expecting you to say that.”

She stayed still while Alderpaw peeled off the cobweb he had applied the night before. A

small amount of blood was still oozing from the wound.

“What can we do to help?” Sparkpaw asked, peering anxiously over his shoulder.

Alderpaw was pleased and relieved that he knew exactly what was needed. Leafpool and Jayfeather would be proud of me.

“Comfrey root,” he replied. “Cherryfall, Molewhisker, could you go and find some? It has large, long leaves. The root is black, and it has a tangy smell.”

“The stuff you put on my pad, right?”

Cherryfall asked. “I know exactly what to look for. Come on, Molewhisker.”

“Honestly, it’s not that serious,” Sandstorm protested as the two warriors disappeared into the undergrowth. “I’ll be fine.”

“You still need to let me treat the wound,” Alderpaw responded. “It’s important.”

It felt weird to be telling an elder what to do, and he was glad when Sandstorm gave a reluctant nod. “Meanwhile, give it another good lick,” Alderpaw added. “Then it’ll be ready for the poultice.”

The sun had not risen much farther up the sky by the time Cherryfall and Molewhisker returned, carrying plenty of comfrey. Alderpaw set to work at once, chewing up the root, and once it was a fine enough paste he applied it to Sandstorm’s wound. Sandstorm relaxed, letting out a long sigh, as the juices sank in.