Эрин Хантер: Yellowfang’s Secret

“Better see Sagewhisker about that thorn,” Mudclaw mumbled around his mouthful of prey. “Your paw might get infected if it’s not seen to.”

“I’m on my way.” Lizardstripe sounded irritated. “This is the last time I go chasing mice underneath a thornbush.” She limped past Yellowkit and vanished between the rocks into the medicine cat’s den.

Yellowkit waited patiently until Lizardstripe emerged again, this time walking almost normally. “Thanks, Sagewhisker,” the warrior called over her shoulder.

Sagewhisker poked her head out from her den. “Give it a good lick,” she instructed. “And see me again tomorrow so I can make sure it hasn’t gotten infected.”

Yellowkit stumbled forward, ready to tell Sagewhisker about the thorn in her own foot, but when she put her hind paw on the ground, she realized the pain had gone. The thorn must have fallen out. She looked around her, trying to see it on the grass, but there was nothing that looked sharp enough. Oh well, as long as it doesn’t hurt anymore . She pressed her paw harder on the ground, making sure it was truly better.

“Hey, Yellowkit!” Rowankit’s voice interrupted her.

Yellowkit looked up to see both her littermates standing beside a broken tree stump not far from the elders’ den. New branches had started to sprout from the remains of the trunk, making a shady cave.

“Come over here!” Nutkit squealed. “We’ve found a fox and her cubs. We’ve got to drive them out of our camp!”

For a heartbeat Yellowkit believed him, and her neck fur bristled. Then she realized this was just another game. Oh, yes, the elders will make really scary foxes!

Silverflame was peering out of the elders’ den as Yellowkit bounded over to join her littermates. Her fur stood on end and her teeth were bared. “This is our den!” Silverflame hissed. “Stay away, or I’ll strip your fur off and feed you to my cubs!”

“Go on, attack them!” Littlebird peered over Silverflame’s shoulder. With her ginger pelt she looked a lot like a fox cub. “I just fancy a nice fat kit!”

“No!” Yellowkit yowled. “This is ShadowClan’s camp! No foxes allowed!”

She hurled herself at Silverflame, trying to grab ahold of the old she-cat’s fur. Silverflame batted at her with soft paws, her claws sheathed. Rowankit and Nutkit raced past them into the den.

“Out! Out!” Nutkit squeaked.

Yellowkit and Silverflame rolled into the open; Yellowkit ended up on top, clinging to Silverflame’s belly fur. “Do you give in?” she demanded. “No more eating cats?”

“No more, I promise,” Silverflame responded. Then she let out a gusty sigh. “Go on, my old bones won’t stand much more of this.” As Yellowkit bounced off her, Silverflame sat up and shook her gray-and-orange pelt, panting a little as she caught her breath. She blinked affectionately at Yellowkit and a purr rose in her throat. “Well fought, little one,” she mewed. “I can see you’re going to be one of the best warriors in ShadowClan.”

You’re right about that, thought Yellowkit, her chest swelling with pride. Watch out, foxes!

Yellowkit found it hard to get to sleep that night. She had often complained about the nursery seeming too crowded, but now that Raggedpaw and Scorchpaw had left for the apprentices’ den, it felt oddly empty. Featherstorm had returned to the warriors’ den, so the only cats in the nursery besides Yellowkit and her littermates were Brightflower and Poolcloud, whose kits were close to being born.

I’ll never get to sleep if Poolcloud keeps snoring, Yellowkit thought crossly, wriggling around in the moss and pine needles that lined the floor of the nursery.

“Keep still,” Brightflower mewed drowsily. “How is a cat supposed to get any rest?”

With a snort of annoyance Yellowkit curled up and wrapped her tail over her nose. Peering over the top of it, she could just make out Rowankit tucked close into their mother’s side, and Nutkit sprawled on the moss, his legs and tail twitching as if he was dreaming about racing through the forest.

I wish StarClan would send me a good dream, Yellowkit thought.

She slept at last, only to wake again with a start. A faint dawn light was filtering through the brambles. Poolcloud was still snoring softly; Brightflower and Rowankit were curled up together. Nutkit was squirming about in the bedding, letting out soft moans of pain.

Yellowkit realized what had woken her; her belly felt heavy, and every couple of heartbeats pain shot through it. I guess Nutkit’s belly is hurting, too . She prodded her brother gently with one paw. “Do you have cramps in your belly?” she whispered.

Nutkit’s eyes blinked open and he peered blearily at his sister. “How do you know?”

“My belly is aching too,” Yellowkit retorted, wincing as another deep cramp coursed through her. She pressed her belly hard against the moss as if she could squash the pain out of it. “We’ve got to tell Brightflower,” she grunted. “She’ll get Sagewhisker.”

“No!” Nutkit’s eyes stretched wide with alarm. “Yellowkit, don’t, please.”

“Why not?” Yellowkit asked. She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “What have you been up to?”

Before Nutkit could reply, Brightflower raised her head, twitching her whiskers in annoyance. “Will you kits settle down?” she began. “This isn’t the time for playing. You—” She broke off and her gaze grew more intent, swiveling from Nutkit to Yellowkit and back again. “What’s the matter?”

“Our bellies are hurting,” Yellowkit replied, her words ending with a low wail as another wave of pain surged over her. “Please get Sagewhisker.”

Before she had finished speaking, Brightflower had risen to her paws, careful not to disturb the sleeping Rowankit, and padded across the moss to give each of her kits a careful sniff. “Have you been eating something you shouldn’t?” she asked. “Tell me quickly, now. Sagewhisker will need to know.”

“No, I—” Another gasp of pain interrupted Nutkit. “All right,” he went on when he could speak again. “I found a dead sparrow among the brambles yesterday. I only tasted it to see what it was like…”

“Nutkit!” Brightflower let out a sigh of exasperation. “You know what I’ve told you about eating crow-food. You too, Yellowkit. How could you be so stupid?”

“But I didn’t!” Yellowkit protested.

Her mother gazed at her sternly. “Eating crow-food is bad, and lying about it is even worse,” she meowed.

Hot indignation surged through Yellowkit, almost driving out the pain in her belly. “I’m not lying!” she insisted. “I never even saw the stupid sparrow! Tell her, Nutkit.”

“I didn’t see Yellowkit there, but…” Nutkit’s words ended in a groan.

“And how do you suppose you got a bellyache if you didn’t eat it?” Brightflower twitched her tail-tip angrily. “I’m very disappointed in both of you, especially you, Yellowkit. Now come outside so you don’t disturb Rowankit and Poolcloud. I’ll go get Sagewhisker.”

Yellowkit didn’t argue any more as she scrambled out of the moss and pine needles. Still simmering with indignation, she clambered up the side of the hollow and wriggled under the branches of the thornbush. The sky above the pine trees was pale with the approach of dawn. Just inside the entrance to the camp, Mousewing was on guard, his black pelt barely visible against the brambles. He yawned and stretched, not noticing Brightflower as she bounded across the clearing to the medicine cat’s den.