Yellowfang’s Secret полностью

“It’s… it’s like I swallowed a live rat,” Yellowfang gasped. “And it’s gnawing and clawing me from inside my belly.”

Sagewhisker nodded. “That’s hunger,” she mewed. “I’d guess that you’re picking up Nettlespot’s pain.”

That makes sense, Yellowfang thought. Nettlespot had just given birth to two kits, but one of them had died and the remaining kit was weak. “Nettlespot has always been thin,” she murmured.

“I’m worried about her, and Cloudkit,” Sagewhisker agreed. “This is a bad season for new arrivals.”

“Why doesn’t Nettlespot just ask for more food?” Yellowfang wondered aloud.

“She’s too proud,” Sagewhisker told her. “She’s a bit old to be a mother and she’s determined to prove that she can care for her kit.”

Pride won’t fill her belly, Yellowfang thought. “What can I do to help?” she asked. “I’ll be no use to the Clan with this pain in my belly. I can hardly put one paw in front of another.”

Sagewhisker gave her another close glance, then padded across her den to uncover one of her herb stores. She returned to Yellowfang with a mouthful of withered leaves. Yellowfang recognized the traveling herbs that she had eaten when she journeyed to the Moonstone.

“These will dull the edge of Nettlespot’s hunger,” she meowed, laying the bundle at Yellowfang’s paws. “Meanwhile I’ll ask one of the warriors to bring a piece of fresh-kill just for her.”

Yellowfang looked at the herbs. Evidently Sagewhisker expected her to take them to the nursery for Nettlespot. As if I was her apprentice! But there was no point in arguing, so she picked up the leaves and staggered out of the den.

Inside the nursery, Nettlespot was hunched over her kit, using her tail to draw him closer to her belly. “Cloudkit, you must feed,” she fretted.

The tiny gray scrap of fur squirmed away from her, raising his voice in a piteous mewling. “Not enough milk!”

As Yellowfang drew closer, a new spasm of pain gripped her belly, almost making her gasp and drop the herbs. Stumbling forward, she set them down in front of Nettlespot. “Eat those,” she panted. “Sagewhisker will bring you some fresh-kill to eat later.”

Nettlespot gazed up at her with dull, exhausted eyes. “Thanks, Yellowfang,” she murmured.

But Yellowfang didn’t wait for her thanks. She had already spun around and was bolting from the den, trying to shake the feelings of pain and panic from her fur. This wasn’t just an inconvenience now—it was scary, and exasperating.

How can I be a warrior if I have to bear the pain of all the Clan?

Yellowfang poked her head out of the warriors’ den to see the clearing covered with a thick pelt of snow. The branches of the surrounding trees were heavy with it, and a few white flakes were still drifting down.

“It’s too early in the season to be this cold,” she muttered to herself.

Shivering, she waded through the powdery snow toward the fresh-kill pile, where Stonetooth was organizing the day’s patrols. The older warriors gathered around him were exchanging troubled glances, and meowing to one another in low voices.

Before Yellowfang could join them, she was intercepted by Sagewhisker, who was heading toward the nursery with a few leaves of tansy in her jaws. “These are for Cloudkit,” she informed Yellowfang, mumbling around the mouthful of herbs. “He’s coughing a little.”

Why tell me? “Okay,” Yellowfang mewed. “I’m sure you’ll fix him, Sagewhisker.”

The medicine cat blinked at her, making Yellowfang even more uncomfortable. But all Sagewhisker said was, “Yes, the tansy should soon clear up his cough. And Nettlespot is improving since you took her the herbs the other day.”

Yellowfang ducked her head. “Fine,” she meowed. “Er… gotta go, Sagewhisker. Patrols.” She headed off rapidly, aware of the medicine cat’s gaze following her.

“There you are, Yellowfang,” Stonetooth greeted her as she joined the group of warriors. “Crowtail’s leading a border patrol. You can join him with Hollyflower and Newtspeck.”

“Sure,” Yellowfang responded, brightening up with the prospect of getting out of camp.

“Let’s go.” Crowtail waved her tail and led the way through the thorn tunnel.

Emerging into the forest, Yellowfang could hardly believe how different it looked under the covering of snow. All the humps and hollows in the ground had been smoothed out, and the surface of the snow was crisscrossed by tracks. The shadows had a bluish tinge, and every slight sound—the creak of a branch, the flutter of wings in a tree—seemed magnified in the still air.

“There’s so much white stuff!” Yellowfang murmured to Hollyflower.

Her Clanmate nodded. “It’s been a long time since the last snowfall. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like.”

I was a new apprentice then, Yellowfang thought. So much has happened since!