Crookedstar’s Promise полностью

Smug frog-face! Crookedpaw ducked down and fluffed out his pelt. Energy surged in his muscles. He unsheathed his hind claws, digging them deep into the snow, then reared up. Black as a crow against the white snow, Beetlenose leaned back and raised his forepaws. Crookedpaw adjusted his balance, wrapped his tail around his hind legs, and swiped at Beetlenose. He blinked with surprise as Beetlenose dropped and darted behind him.

Turning on his hind paws, Crookedpaw saw Beetlenose’s jaws snapping where his tail should’ve been. “You missed!” With a rush of satisfaction he slammed down on the young warrior, knocking him flat on to his belly.

“Ow!” Beetlenose wriggled from under him as Crookedpaw shifted his weight. “My chin!” He rubbed at it with a paw.

“Crookedpaw!” Cedarpelt’s mew was sharp. “This is just practice!”

“I had my foreclaws sheathed!” Crookedpaw protested. “And we were supposed to be practicing the front paw swipe! He was going for my tail!”

“So?” Beetlenose squared up to Crookedpaw. “A warrior should be ready for anything!”

“Then why weren’t you ready for my counterattack?” Crookedpaw spat back.

“You hid your tail!” Beetlenose hissed. “That’s not fair! No cat hides his tail!”

Cedarpelt’s gaze darkened. “ThunderClan cats do,” he meowed. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Crookedpaw puffed out his chest. “Great, isn’t it? Did you see how I balanced even without my tail?” StarClan warriors must know the moves of every Clan.

Cedarpelt narrowed his eyes. “It isn’t fair to use tricks.”

“It wasn’t a trick!” Crookedpaw flashed a look at Piketooth. “I taught him a new move.”

“Show some respect!” Cedarpelt snapped. “Beetlenose is a warrior. You’ve been an apprentice less than a moon. You’ve never even been to a Gathering.”

Beetlenose’s tail-tip was twitching angrily. “Crookedpaw’s always thought he was better than any RiverClan cat.”

Cedarpelt marched past the black warrior. “Let’s get back to camp,” he growled. “It’s freezing.”

Crookedpaw watched his mentor bound down the slope, following the snow-covered trail back to camp. Guilt tugged in his belly. He hadn’t meant to show off. Beetlenose was just so annoying. I know stuff they don’t. Why do I have to hide it?

No one spoke as they trekked back to camp. Crookedpaw fluffed out his pelt for warmth, pads frozen, breath billowing. The sedge tunnel was half-squashed with snow and Crookedpaw had to duck to squeeze through. Inside, the camp glowed purple in the setting sun. Snow draped the walls and the dens. It had been swept from the clearing but had drifted by the shore. The fallen tree was crisscrossed by trails to the warriors’ dens and frosted reeds spiked the frozen river.

Cedarpelt headed for Hailstar’s den. Crookedpaw’s heart sank. His mentor was probably going to report him for disobedience.

Beetlenose barged past him. “Serves you right!” Sniffing, he headed for the fresh-kill pile, where Petaldust and Echomist were already nosing through the fish. Crookedpaw’s belly growled. The fish smelled delicious.

“Don’t worry.” Piketooth paused at Crookedpaw’s shoulder. “You won’t be the first ’paw in trouble, or the last.” He bounded across the clearing and touched muzzles with Shimmerpelt, his mate, who was sitting in a hollow dug out of the snow sharing a fat pike with Brightsky and Mudfur. She stood to greet him, then nodded toward the fresh-kill pile. Sighing, Crookedpaw watched Piketooth clamber toward the heap of fish.

“Crookedpaw!” Cedarpelt called from outside Hailstar’s den. He beckoned with a flick of his tail. “Hailstar wants to talk to you.”

Crookedpaw followed Cedarpelt’s snow-trail with heavy paws. “I’m sorry.” He reached Cedarpelt. “But—”

Cedarpelt cut him off. “We’ll start over tomorrow.” The stout brown-striped tom tipped his head toward Hailstar’s den as the moss shivered and the RiverClan leader padded out. “He just wants to talk to you.”

As Cedarpelt headed away, Crookedpaw turned toward Hailstar, shrinking beneath his pelt. “I didn’t hurt Beetlenose on purpose,” he began.

Hailstar sat down. “I’m sure he’ll recover.” His amber eyes glowed in the early evening light. “I realize you’re in a hurry to finish your training—”

“I’m trying to be patient. Really! It’s just hard…” Crookedpaw cut him off, then stumbled into silence as he realized he’d interrupted his leader. He shifted his paws. “Sorry.”

“Don’t rush,” Hailstar began again. “Take your time. Learn what you need to learn, and learn it well.”

Crookedpaw clamped his mouth shut as words tumbled through his head. But I know more than you think! I’m being trained by StarClan! Frustration made his claws itch as Hailstar went on.

“You’ll be a warrior soon enough.” The old cat gazed up at the sky. The clouds had cleared and Silverpelt was beginning to show. “Enjoy your training. Have some fun before the responsibilities of—” Hailstar stopped.