Эрин Хантер: Bluestar's Prophecy

Yes. In my own time , Bluekit agreed.

Waking, Bluekit could feel the weight of her sister lying on top of her. Moonflower’s belly rose and fell rhythmically beside them. Swiftbreeze was snoring, and Poppydawn wheezed a little as she breathed.

Bluekit heard Leopardkit and Patchkit chattering outside.

“You be the mouse and I’ll be the warrior!” Patchkit was ordering.

“I was the mouse last time!” Leopardkit retorted.

“Were not!

“Was!”

A scuffle broke out, punctuated by squeaks of defiance.

“Watch where you’re rolling!” came the cross meow of a tom, silencing them for a moment.

“Okay, you be the warrior,” Patchkit agreed. “But I bet you can’t catch me.”

Warrior!

Bluekit wriggled out from under her sister. A newleaf breeze stirred the bramble walls and drifted through the gaps—the same fresh forest smell her father had carried in on his pelt when he’d visited. It chased away the stuffy smell of moss and milk and warm, sleeping fur.

Excitement made Bluekit’s claws twitch. I’m going to be a warrior!

For the first time, she stretched open her eyes, blinking against the shafts of light that pierced the bramble roof. The nursery was huge! In darkness, the den had felt small and cozy, but now she could see the brambles arching high overhead, with tiny patches of blue beyond.

Poppydawn lay on her side near one wall, a dark red tabby with a long bushy tail. Bluekit recognized her because she smelled different from Swiftbreeze and Moonflower. There was no milk scent on her; she didn’t have any kits yet. Swiftbreeze, in a nest beside her, was hardly visible—curled in a tight ball with her nose tucked under her tail, her tabby-and-white pelt blotchy against the bracken underneath.

The most familiar scent of all came from behind. Wriggling around, Bluekit gazed at her mother. Sunshine dappled Moonflower’s silver-gray pelt, rippling over the dark stripes that ran along her flank. Her striped face was narrow, and her ears tapered to gentle points. Do I look like her? Bluekit looked over her shoulder at her own pelt. It was fluffy, not sleek like Moonflower’s, and was dark gray all over, with no stripes. Not yet.

Snowkit, lying stretched on her back, was all white except for her gray ear tips.

“Snowkit!” Bluekit breathed.

“What is it?” Snowkit blinked open her eyes. They were blue.

Are mine blue? Bluekit wondered.

“You’ve opened your eyes!” Snowkit leaped to her paws, wide-awake. “Now we can go out of the nursery!”

Bluekit spotted a hole in the bramble wall, just big enough for two kits to squeeze through. “Patchkit and Leopardkit are already outside. Let’s surprise them!”

Poppydawn raised her head. “Don’t go far,” she murmured sleepily before tucking her nose back under her tail.

“Where are Poppydawn’s kits?” Bluekit whispered.

“They won’t arrive for another two moons,” Snowkit answered.

Arrive? Bluekit tipped her head to one side. Where from?

Snowkit was already heading for the hole, scrambling clumsily over Moonflower. Bluekit tumbled after, her short legs uncertain as she slid down her mother’s back and landed in the soft moss.

The nest rustled and Bluekit felt a soft paw clamp her tail-tip to the ground. “Where do you think you are going?”

Moonflower was awake.

Bluekit turned and blinked at her mother. “Outside.”

Moonflower’s eyes glowed and a loud purr rolled in her throat. “You’ve opened your eyes.” She sounded relieved.

“I decided it was time,” Bluekit replied proudly.

“There, Swiftbreeze.” Moonflower turned, waking the tabby-and-white queen with her satisfied mew. “I told you she’d do it when she was ready.”

Swiftbreeze sat up and gave her paw a lick. “Of course. I was only thinking of my own kits—they opened their eyes sooner.” She swiped her paw across her muzzle, smoothing the fur on her nose.

Moonflower turned back to her kits. “So now you’re going out to see the world?”

“Why not?” Bluekit mewed. “Leopardkit and Patchkit are already out there.”

“Leopardkit and Patchkit are five moons old,” Moonflower told her. “They’re much bigger than you, so they’re allowed to play outside.”

Bluekit opened her eyes very wide. “Is it dangerous?”

Moonflower shook her head. “Not in the camp.”

“Then we can go!”

Moonflower sighed, then leaned down to smooth Bluekit’s fur with her tongue. “I suppose you have to leave the nursery sometime.” She studied Snowkit. “Straighten your whiskers.” Pride lit the queen’s amber gaze. “I want you to look perfect when you meet the Clan.”

Snowkit ran a licked paw over each spray of whiskers.

Bluekit looked up at her mother. “Are you coming with us?”

“Do you want me to?”

Bluekit shook her head. “We’re going to surprise Patchkit and Leopardkit.”

“Your first prey.” Moonflower’s whiskers twitched. “Off you go, then.”

Bluekit bounced around and sprinted for the gap.

“Don’t get under any cat’s paws!” Moonflower called after them as Bluekit barged ahead of her sister and headed through the hole. “And stay together!”

The brambles scraped Bluekit’s pelt as she wriggled out of the nursery. When she tumbled onto the ground beyond, sunshine stung her eyes. She blinked away the glare, and the camp opened out in front of her like a dream. A vast, sandy clearing stretched away to a rock that cast a shadow so long it almost touched her paw tips. Two warriors sat beneath the rock, sharing prey beside a clump of nettles. Beyond them lay a fallen tree, its tangled branches folded on the ground like a heap of skinny, hairless legs. Several tail-lengths away from the nursery a wide, low bush spread its branches over the ground. Ferns crowded a corner at the nursery’s other side, and behind them rose a barrier of gorse so tall that Bluekit had to crane her neck to see the top.

Excitement thrilled through her. This was her territory! Her paws prickled. Would she ever know her way around?

There was no sign of Patchkit or Leopardkit.

“Where’ve they gone?” she called to Snowkit.

Snowkit was staring around the camp. “I don’t know,” she meowed absently. “Look at that prey!” She was staring at a heap of birds and mice at the side of the clearing. It was topped by a fat, fluffy squirrel.

“The fresh-kill pile!” Bluekit bounced toward it, her nose twitching. She’d heard the queens in the nursery talking about prey, and she’d smelled squirrel on her mother’s fur. What would it taste like? Thrusting her nose into the pile, she tried to sink her claws into a small creature with short brown fur and a long, thin tail.

“Watch out!”

Snowkit’s warning came too late. Bluekit’s paws buckled as the plump squirrel rolled off the top of the pile and flattened her. Ooof!

Purrs of amusement erupted from the two warriors beside the nettle patch. “I’ve never seen fresh-kill attack a cat before!” meowed one of them.

“Careful!” warned the other warrior. “All that fluff might choke you!”

Hot with embarrassment, Bluekit wriggled out from under the squirrel and stared fiercely at the warriors. “It just fell on me!” She didn’t want to be remembered as the kit who was jumped on by a dead squirrel.

“Hey, you two!” Bluekit recognized Patchkit from his nursery-scent as he padded out from behind the nursery. “Does your mother know you’re outside?”

“Of course!” Bluekit spun around to see her denmate for the first time.

Oh.

She hadn’t expected Patchkit to be so big. His black-and-white fur was smooth like a warrior’s, and she had to tip her head back to look up at him. She stretched her legs, trying to appear taller.