It’s not your time yet. It’s not your time yet. He clung to the orange-and-white cat’s words, repeating them as though praying to StarClan. He smelled the warm scent of Brambleberry as Mudfur ducked through the sedge tunnel into camp.
“Where did you find him?” Rainflower’s shrill mew cut through the anxious murmur that greeted them. “Oakkit? Oakkit!”
“I’m here.”
“What happened?”
“Stormkit fell and hit a stepping-stone.”
Brambleberry’s mew sounded calm among the others. “Take him to my den, Mudfur.”
Past the haze of pelts and worried eyes. Past the deep olive sedge and into the green calm of Brambleberry’s den. It was a wide space, almost a clearing, thickly walled by sedge with a nest hollowed out at one side where Brambleberry slept. Stormkit smelled his mother close by, her scent edged with fear.
Rainflower moved around him, pushing past Brambleberry, nudging Mudfur as the brown tom laid Stormkit gently down. “What has he done to himself?”
“Let me see.” Brambleberry nosed the queen away.
Stormkit tried to focus on the white medicine cat, but the black spots that dotted her fur swam before his eyes.
“His face! His handsome face!” Rainflower’s wail sent a new wave of terror through him.
Mudfur’s pelt brushed Stormkit’s flank as he huddled facedown on the smooth earth floor. “Come on, Rainflower. You need to check on Oakkit. He’s pretty shaken up.”
As the warrior steered Rainflower from the den, Brambleberry leaned closer to Stormkit. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll take care of you.”
Stormkit lay numb and trembling as Brambleberry disappeared for a moment. When she returned she was carrying something that had a strong, sour tang.
“I’m going to squeeze juice into the side of your mouth,” she told him. “It’ll taste bad and it’ll hurt to swallow, but you must take it.” Her mew was firm. “It’ll help you feel better.”
Stormkit tried to speak but his mouth felt thick and strange, and another jolt of pain made him cry out.
“This has willow bark, thyme, and poppy extract in it,” Brambleberry went on, her voice low and soft.
Stormkit felt wetness at the side of his mouth and then a stream of liquid trickled in. He forced himself to swallow in spite of the agony.
“Good kit.” Brambleberry stroked his flank with her tail. “Have a long sleep and when you wake up you’ll feel a lot better than you do now.” As she talked, the medicine cat pulled moss around him until he felt warm and cozy. Her words drifted into a low murmur until the green clearing and the sharp scents of herbs faded into darkness.
Stormkit blinked at his mother. “Are you leaving already?”
“I’ve got to,” Rainflower meowed, glancing up at the sky.
Why won’t she look at me?
“There’s a lot of hunting to do now the fish are back,” she went on.
Oakkit rested his paws on the edge of Stormkit’s nest. “I’ll stay,” he promised.
Stormkit tried to catch Rainflower’s eye. “I wanted to tell you about the moth I caught last night.”
Confined to the medicine den for a moon, he’d had little chance to hunt. It’d been pure luck the moth had flitted into Brambleberry’s den; he’d snatched it out of the air with a single paw.
Oakkit shuffled closer. “You can tell me about the moth.”
“It was huge.” Stormkit leaned toward his mother, but Rainflower was already halfway to the entrance.
“I promised Rippleclaw I’d join his patrol,” she called.
“Rainflower!” Brambleberry backed out of the small hollow in the sedge wall where she stored her herbs. Strange green scents clung to her fur, and there were fragments of leaf on her muzzle where she’d been sorting through her supplies.
Rainflower halted. “Yes?”
“Stormkit can go back to the nursery today,” Brambleberry told her.
“Really?” Oakkit tumbled into Stormkit’s nest and started pummeling him playfully with his hind paws. “That’s great! Come on, lazybones!”
“So he’s better?” Rainflower’s eyes darkened. She glanced at Stormkit. “You can’t do any more for him?”
Oakkit froze, mid-pummel.
“He’s got all his ears and whiskers.” Stormkit heard sharpness in the medicine cat’s mew. “He can play and practice hunting like any other kit. What more do you want?”
Rainflower turned away and ducked through the entrance. “Fine. Send him back to the nursery then,” she called as the tip of her tail disappeared.
Stormkit tilted his head on one side. “Is Rainflower okay?”
“She’s just tired from all the hunting,” Oakkit mewed.
Brambleberry flexed her claws. “Tired,” she echoed drily.
Oakkit flicked Stormkit’s ear with his tail. “Come on!” He leaped out of the soft moss nest. “You’ve been lying around too long. We need to get you fit. We’ll be apprentices in less than two moons.”
“I’m afraid not.” Brambleberry crossed the den.
Stormkit’s heart lurched. “What do you mean?”
Her blue gaze was clear. “You’ll have to wait a while
to become a ’paw, little one.”
Stormkit leaped out of his nest. “Why?” His paws trembled beneath him.
“You broke your jaw,” Brambleberry reminded him.
“But it’s healed,” Stormkit told her. He opened and closed his mouth to show her. It still felt stiff and lopsided, and it ached if he lay on it during the night, but he knew the bones had mended because the pain wasn’t so sharp it made him feel sick.
“You hardly ate for a half-moon, and even now you find it hard.” Brambleberry’s gaze flicked along Stormkit’s flank. “You need to fill out a bit before you start your apprentice training.”
“It’ll be okay,” Oakkit mewed. “I bet you catch up to me even if you start your training late.” He nudged Stormkit with his shoulder.
Stormkit almost fell over. When did Oakkit grow so much? He was strong and weighty, more like a ’paw than a kit. Stormkit felt tiny beside him, with hollow flanks and thin legs. He sat down. Was this going to stop him from becoming a warrior? What about Clan leader? Could he still be Clan leader if he was apprenticed late?
Brambleberry touched his head with her muzzle. “Oakkit’s right,” she murmured. “You’ll grow in no time. Just eat well and get some exercise. StarClan is watching over you. There’s no reason why you won’t be as big as Shellheart by next newleaf.”
StarClan’s watching over me. Stormkit dug his claws into the soft ground. “I’m going to get big and strong and be the best apprentice ever.”
Oakkit flicked his tail toward the tunnel. “Come on! Everyone wants to see you.” He bounded away and Stormkit followed, suddenly excited to be out in the camp again.
“Thanks, Brambleberry,” he called over his shoulder.
“I’ll check on you tomorrow,” Brambleberry promised. “Make sure you eat well and rest whenever you get tired.”
Stormkit burst out into the clearing, dazzled by the sunshine and surprised by the heat. The river chattered beyond the reed bed and wind swished the rushes. New warrior dens had been woven around the fallen tree. The apprentices’ den had grown a warm coating of moss, and the nursery, tucked away in the sedge wall, looked as cozy as ever. Hailstar’s den had been rebuilt, its willow stems bright and freshly woven among the roots of the ancient willow. Beetlekit, Volekit, and Petalkit were chasing a ball of moss in the clearing. Mudfur was lying in the shade with Cedarpelt. Shellheart was sharing fresh-kill with Hailstar, Tanglewhisker, and Birdsong at the top of the slope while Softpaw hauled stale moss from their den.
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