Yellowfang’s Secret полностью

“You’re not letting us do anything!” Hollyflower retorted, sliding out her claws.

“Stop this!” Yellowfang called desperately from the fence-top. “He’s just a fat old kittypet. He’s not worth fighting. Leave him alone and get out of there.” She tried hard not to flinch as Marmalade turned his gaze onto her. She could almost hear his thoughts: Fat old kittypet, huh? Come down here and say that!

“We’ve shown our strength,” Yellowfang persisted. “Now we need to get Newtspeck back to the camp.”

“I’m fine!” Newtspeck protested.

“No, you’re not,” Yellowfang hissed through the stabbing sensation in her shoulder. “Hollyflower, Crowtail, help her over the fence.”

“I don’t need any help.” Newtspeck gave a single lash of her tail and leaped up the fence. Her paws scrabbled at the top and she fell down the other side, collapsing on the ground with a screech.

“You stupid, stupid furball!” Yellowfang snapped. She could understand that Newtspeck didn’t want to show weakness in front of Marmalade, but the flaring agony in her shoulder told her that the she-cat had made her injury worse.

Newtspeck struggled to get to her paws but she couldn’t put weight on her leg at all, and she slipped back onto her side in the snow. “Mouse dung!” she gasped.

Crowtail and Hollyflower exchanged shocked glances; clearly they hadn’t known that Newtspeck was so seriously hurt.

“Come on.” Yellowfang worked her shoulder underneath Newtspeck, and with her help the injured she-cat managed to stand. “Let’s get you home.”

Hollyflower supported her on the other side, and they began struggling back to camp, with Crowtail keeping a lookout behind in case any kittypets tried to follow them. By the time they reached the entrance, Newtspeck was barely conscious, staggering along on three paws and leaning her weight on Yellowfang and Hollyflower.

“Let’s get her to Sagewhisker,” Yellowfang panted; she was almost as exhausted as Newtspeck through the pain they shared.

As they approached the medicine cat’s den, Hollyflower and Crowtail went to report to Stonetooth. Newtspeck collapsed on the moss, her injured leg stretched out.

“What happened?” Sagewhisker asked, bending over to examine her.

“She wrenched her shoulder jumping over a Twoleg fence,” Yellowfang replied. Anger still pulsed through her along with the hurt. “And then the mouse-brain had to make it worse by jumping out again.”

“I couldn’t let you haul me out,” Newtspeck murmured through clenched teeth. “Not with that kittypet watching.”

“There was no need to go in there in the first place,” Yellowfang pointed out.

“It’s a bad sprain,” Sagewhisker commented, giving the injured leg a sniff. “Yellowfang, fetch me some elder leaves. And give them a good chew,” she added, as Yellowfang padded off to the hole where the herbs were kept.

The clean tang of the elder leaves that filled her mouth made Yellowfang feel calmer, and the hurt began to ebb as Sagewhisker plastered the poultice onto Newtspeck’s leg.

“Poppy seeds, Yellowfang,” Sagewhisker murmured as she applied the chewed-up leaves. “Newtspeck, you’d better sleep here for now. You can go back to your den when you’ve had a rest.”

“Thanks, Sagewhisker,” Newtspeck murmured.

Once her Clanmate was licking up the poppy seeds, Yellowfang slipped out of the den. Raggedpelt was pacing up and down outside. He whipped around to face her as she emerged.

“I heard you saw a kittypet today,” he meowed. “Did it recognize you?”

Yellowfang blinked. “Yes. It was Marmalade,” she admitted. “But he didn’t say anything about… you know, Hal. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Raggedpelt obviously didn’t agree; his neck fur was bristling and he slid his claws in and out. “I am not a kittypet! This is where I belong!” he hissed as he spun around.

“Hey, wait!” Yellowfang bounded after him. “It’s okay. Calm down. Nothing happened.”

Raggedpelt flicked his tail as if he were brushing away her words. “Leave me alone, can’t you?” he growled, picking up his pace until he was racing across the camp to vanish into the thorns.

Yellowfang heaved a deep sigh as she stared after him.

“Had a fight with your mate?” Rowanberry bounced up to her, a mischievous look in her eyes.

Yellowfang bit back a snarl. “He’s not my mate!” she snapped. “We’re just friends.”

Rowanberry rolled her eyes. “There’s no need to pretend,” she meowed. “The whole Clan knows there’s something going on between you and Raggedpelt. I think he’s kind of cranky, but I guess he’s handsome…”

Yellowfang had no time for her sister’s nonsense. Without replying, she turned her back on Rowanberry and stalked away.

Twilight was gathering in the clearing as Yellowfang returned at the head of a hunting patrol. She dropped her squirrel on the fresh-kill pile and glanced around. The camp was quiet; most of her Clanmates, she guessed, were already settling down to sleep.