Yellowfang’s Secret полностью

Brokentail stood in the center of the clearing, lapping up his Clan’s yowls of welcome. As Yellowfang looked at him more closely, a thrill of horror passed through her. His legs were stained with blood, the brown fur dark and wet. The air stirred beside her and a voice whispered, “Beware the cat with blood on his paws…”

Yellowfang whirled around, looking for Molepelt, but she saw only her Clanmates, still watching the new warrior. Pushing her way through the crowd, she reached Brokentail’s side. “Are you okay?” she whispered. “Is that blood on your fur?”

Brokentail looked surprised. “No, it’s water. I got wet when I was chasing a lizard in the marshes, that’s all.”

Relief surged through Yellowfang. Now that she was close enough to smell his fur, she realized that it was just peaty water turning his legs dark.

Everything’s fine. And stay away from me, Molepelt, with your stupid prophecies!

She stepped back as other cats padded up to congratulate her son.

“You’re welcome on my patrols anytime,” Blackfoot meowed.

“And mine,” Nutwhisker added. “And can you show me that tricky claw-and-leap battle move? I saw you can do it, but I haven’t got it quite right.”

“Sure.” Brokentail dipped his head, his eyes gleaming with pleasure.

Boulder loped up and gave him a friendly cuff on the shoulder. “I’m looking forward to chasing foxes with you,” he told Brokentail.

The new warrior gave Boulder a return cuff that sent him staggering. “We’ll shred them,” he agreed.

Then Foxheart shouldered her way through the crowd. “Congratulations, Brokentail,” she meowed graciously. “ShadowClan needs keen young warriors like you.”

Does she think she’s Clan leader already? Yellowfang wondered, bristling at the deputy’s superior tones.

She realized that Raggedstar was standing beside her. “My son will go far,” he murmured in her ear. “He is everything I ever hoped for.” He looked at Yellowfang with a challenge in his eyes, as if he was daring her to say that Brokentail was her son too.

I won’t play that game. I know I have given up any claim to him that I once had.

Politely Yellowfang dipped her head to the cat who had once meant everything to her. “I’m sure he has a bright future in the Clan,” she meowed.

Yellowfang shivered beneath her thick pelt. Leaf-bare had descended on the forest and the clearing was covered in snow. Her paws sank deeply into it; her pads felt as if they were about to fall off, they were so cold. Flicking a bit of leaf from behind her ear, Yellowfang knew that she needed to give herself a good grooming. But there never seems to be time…

Now she headed for Raggedstar’s den, ducking beneath the oak roots out of the worst of the snow. To her dismay she saw that Foxheart was there, her head bent close to the leader’s as they talked together.

It was Foxheart who noticed Yellowfang first. “What do you want?”

Yellowfang refused to let the Clan deputy’s rudeness get to her. “I need to speak to Raggedstar.”

“Can’t you see he’s busy?” Foxheart snapped. “Come back later.”

Yellowfang merely waited, her gaze fixed on Raggedstar.

“No, you can speak now.” The Clan leader’s voice had an impatient edge. “What is it?”

“I don’t think Nightpelt can continue with his warrior duties,” Yellowfang told him. “His cough is getting much worse, and he’s too tired and weak for patrols.”

Foxheart’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you can’t cure him? Aren’t you supposed to be the medicine cat?”

“I’ve tried everything,” Yellowfang hissed through gritted teeth. “Some cats have coughs that don’t go away. I think it has something to do with his breathing. If he doesn’t give up his duties, he’ll just get sicker and sicker.”

“We need all our warriors!” Foxheart protested.

Raggedstar stretched out his tail and laid it on Foxheart’s shoulder. “Send Nightpelt to me,” he ordered Yellowfang. “If it’s what he wants, then I won’t force him to continue with warrior duties. But it’s his decision, Yellowfang!”

Returning to her den, Yellowfang found Boulder waiting for her. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

Boulder stretched out one forepaw. “I’ve got a thorn in it,” he announced cheerfully. “I tried to get it out myself, but I can’t shift it.”

“Well, that’s what your medicine cat is for,” Yellowfang responded. “Let’s have a look.”

The thorn had been pushed a long way into Boulder’s pad, and it took a lot of licking before Yellowfang could catch it in her teeth.

“I was on patrol with Brokentail,” Boulder meowed as she worked. “Great StarClan, he’s a good warrior! We should all try to be like him.”

Yellowfang, vigorously licking, tried not to react to this praise of her son.