Crookedjaw paced beside the reed bed lashing his tail.
Crookedjaw hauled himself out of the river, water streaming from his pelt. He tipped his head on one side. The brown warrior’s call had been edged with worry.
Brambleberry poked her head out of her den. “Is Brightsky still uncomfortable?”
Mudfur’s tail trembled. “She keeps saying she’s thirsty and then she won’t drink.”
Brambleberry ducked back into her den. “Wait there.”
Crookedjaw knew they were worried about Brightsky. She’d moved to the nursery half a moon ago, expecting Mudfur’s kits. But fever had struck and she’d been sick for days. Crookedjaw picked his way across camp. The clearing was littered with his Clanmates stretched out in the bright sunshine, too sleepy to move. It was pointless hunting with the sun so high. It was too hot to eat and any fish caught now would be stinking by evening. Even the reeds were drooping under the scorching greenleaf sun.
Crookedjaw hopped over Rippleclaw, who was fast asleep, and landed beside Graypaw. The gray apprentice was huddled in the shade of the fallen tree. “Where’s Willowpaw?”
“She’s out training with Owlfur.” Graypaw gazed wistfully at the nursery. “I shouldn’t have crossed the bridge.” She tucked her tail tighter. “Then Brightsky wouldn’t have had to rescue me.”
“That didn’t make her ill,” Crookedjaw reassured her. “She knew she was expecting kits. It was her choice to carry on with her warrior duties as long as possible.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?” Graypaw sighed. “I would have come back when she told me.”
“Claw-moon.”
“That soon?” Crookedjaw was surprised. It was only a few days away. “She’ll be fine,” he meowed.
Rippleclaw lifted his head and looked at Graypaw, sympathy lighting his gaze. “Are you still worrying about Brightsky?” He got sleepily to his paws. “Can’t Piketooth take you training?” Piketooth had been made Graypaw’s mentor when Brightsky had moved to the nursery. “It’ll take your mind off things.” Rippleclaw glanced across the clearing to where Piketooth and Voleclaw were playing moss-ball with Sunkit and Frogkit. “I could teach you some moves while he’s busy.”
Graypaw blinked gratefully at the black-and-silver warrior. “Yes, please.”
Rippleclaw led Graypaw to a shaded spot at the edge of the clearing and started showing her a battle crouch. The sedge rustled as Brambleberry nosed her way from her den. With a bundle of herbs clasped in her jaws, she led Mudfur across the clearing and into the nursery.
Crookedjaw closed his eyes.
“Hide me!” Blackkit squeaked. “Don’t tell them where I am.”
Crookedjaw stifled a purr and drew his forepaws closer together. Skykit was leading the search party. Ottersplash’s kits, less than half a moon old, were following her as though she were Clan leader.
“Can you see him?” Loudkit mewed, his dark brown pelt pricking.
“What if he fell in the river?” Reedkit fretted.
“Don’t be silly!” Sedgekit rolled her eyes at her brother. “The warriors would be rushing around flapping like herons if he’d fallen in the river!”
“He’s not here.” Skykit sniffed her way around the sedge wall.
“Wait!” Loudkit tasted the air. “I can smell him.”
“Where?” Reedkit fluffed out his long, stiff tail. He darted past Skykit, nose to the ground, and sniffed his way between the lounging warriors, heading for Crookedjaw.
“Watch out,” Crookedjaw whispered to the wriggling bundle beneath his belly. “I think they’ve found you.” He jumped out of the way as the kit patrol launched itself at him. They dived onto Blackkit, squeaking with triumph.
“Found you! Found you!” Loudkit crowed.
“Now it’s my turn to hide,” Sedgekit squeaked.
Skykit flicked her brown tabby tail. “I want to play something different.” She glanced at Piketooth. He tossed the moss ball high over Sunkit’s and Frogkit’s heads. They leaped to reach it, but Voleclaw raised a paw and plucked it from the air. “I want to play that.” Skykit scampered away, her patrol following.
Whitefang grumbled as they clambered over him, and Troutclaw opened an eye and flicked his tail out of the way.
“StarClan bless them.” Birdsong dragged her gaze from the kits and called to Crookedjaw. “Is Shellheart back yet?”
Shellheart was leading Beetlenose, Petaldust, Cedarpelt, and Timberfur on border patrol. They’d been out since sunhigh.
“Not yet.” Crookedjaw shrugged. “They’ll be back soon unless they’ve found somewhere shady to rest.”
“I don’t know why they bother.” Troutclaw sat up. “There’s hardly any border left for them to patrol.”
