Yellowfang sprang off the badger’s back, flinching as the animal swiveled its head and fixed its tiny, berry-bright eyes on her. Somehow, she had to entice the badger away from Raggedpelt. She limped backward, hardly needing to pretend to be injured because of the sensations that were coursing through her body.
With a roar of fury the badger lumbered toward her, one huge paw outstretched to strike. Yellowfang waited until the last moment, then sprang up, clawing at the creature’s muzzle. The badger staggered sideways, leaving a narrow space between its flank and the thorns.
“Run, Raggedpelt!” Yellowfang screeched.
Raggedpelt slipped through the gap before the badger could trap him again. Once clear of the thorns he turned, crouching beside Yellowfang, ready to help her fight. Yellowfang could see that her Clanmate’s pelt was clumped and spiky with blood, and more blood was welling from wounds in his shoulder and side. “Get away!” she hissed.
“You can’t fight alone!” Raggedpelt gasped.
“Just go, flea-brain!”
Yellowfang darted in again, leaping to claw the badger on one side of its snout. Glancing back, she saw that Raggedpelt was limping away, leaving spatters of blood on the grass. Snarling another challenge to the badger, she slowly backed off, then spun around and fled after her Clanmate.
“Are you mouse-brained?” Raggedpelt demanded when she had caught up to him. “You didn’t have to take a risk like that. You should have gone to fetch more warriors.”
“There was no time,” Yellowfang flashed back at him. “You would have bled to death before I got back to the camp!” Every word was an effort. Raggedpelt’s hurt was flooding over her so strongly that she barely had the strength to put one paw in front of another.
“Are you okay?” Raggedpelt’s anger gave way to concern. “Are you wounded?”
“I’m fine…” Yellowfang gasped. “You’re the one who needs help. Here, lean on my shoulder.”
Whole moons seemed to pass before the entrance to the camp came into sight. Yellowfang shoved Raggedpelt into the brambles and staggered after him. The camp was quiet; Yellowfang guessed most of the cats were out on patrol, or training.
Featherstorm was sitting near the warriors’ den with Brightflower. She glanced up as her son and Yellowfang emerged into the camp. Instantly she sprang to her paws and rushed across the clearing to Raggedpelt’s side.
“Raggedpelt!” she screeched. “What happened?”
As soon as he reached the clearing Raggedpelt had collapsed on his side, his chest heaving. “Badger!” he gasped.
Brightflower raced over to the medicine cat’s den, calling for Sagewhisker, who ran over to examine Raggedpelt. The medicine cat gave him a few rapid sniffs, then looked up at Yellowfang. “I think we need to talk. Wait for me in my den while I look after Raggedpelt.”
Words crowded into Yellowfang’s mind, of protest or denial that they had anything to say to each other, but she left them all unspoken. Nodding, she paced across the clearing and slid between the rocks into Sagewhisker’s den.
She was struggling to stay awake when Sagewhisker reappeared, and she sat up, trying to look alert.
“Raggedpelt is resting,” the medicine cat meowed. “I gave him some poppy seed.”
Yellowfang nodded. “Good.”
For a moment Sagewhisker said nothing, just padded over to her herb store and began tidying up. Then she glanced over her shoulder at Yellowfang. “What are you going to do now?” she prompted.
Yellowfang didn’t understand the question. “You mean, right now? Sleep.”
Sagewhisker gave a tiny shake of her head. “In the future.”
“Be a warrior, of course.”
“What about this pain that you feel for others?” the medicine cat asked.
“Is there some sort of herb you can give me to take it away?” Yellowfang mewed hopefully.
Sagewhisker shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Yellowfang. Nothing that needs healing.” She finished patting down the fern fronds that covered the herb store before she came to sit beside Yellowfang. Meeting her gaze, she continued, “You have a great ability, one that can be used to help your Clanmates.”
