“Sure we are,” Yellowfang responded. “But it might be a while. There’s only Cloudkit in the nursery.”
Raggedpelt nodded. “I want us to be mentors together.” He fixed his warm amber gaze on Yellowfang. “Wouldn’t it be great if I was leader and you were my deputy?” He paused, and Yellowfang caught a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. “That is, if you want to be with me,” he added.
Yellowfang blinked up at his handsome face and troubled eyes. She wished he could always be open to her like this, that he could curb his temper and his occasional obstinate silences. But what must it have been like, growing up without knowing who his father was? And then to discover that his father was a kittypet who wanted nothing to do with him? If Raggedpelt was angry sometimes, or reluctant to talk, wasn’t that understandable? “Of course I want to be with you,” she whispered.
Raggedpelt gave her ear a quick lick. “I’m glad. Now let’s take your prey back to camp,” he mewed.
Several cats clustered around them as Yellowfang dropped her blackbird onto the pitifully small fresh-kill pile.
“Good job, Yellowfang,” Deerleap murmured, making Yellowfang feel warm with pride at the praise from her former mentor. A few more cats congratulated her, too, though she noticed that others turned away with disappointed sniffs.
“Just a scrawny blackbird,” she heard Foxheart complain. “What use is that to any cat?”
Yellowfang ignored her. Since she had entered the camp a strange feeling was creeping over her: a tingling beneath her pelt, as if she was hot and cold at the same time.
Leaving the cats beside the fresh-kill pile, Yellowfang tried to figure out where the feeling was coming from. Her paws carried her to the elders’ den; thrusting her head inside she saw Littlebird tossing restlessly in her nest. Her eyes were glazed and she was muttering something under her breath.
Yellowfang raced across the camp to get Sagewhisker. “Come quickly!” she panted as she slid between the two boulders that formed the entrance to the medicine cat’s den. “Littlebird has a fever.”
Sagewhisker looked up from where she was counting dock leaves. “Okay, fetch the herbs she needs,” she prompted.
“What?” Shock struck Yellowfang like a badger’s paw. “Sagewhisker, have you got bees in your brain? I’m not a medicine cat! I’d give Littlebird the wrong thing. I might even kill her!”
Sagewhisker hesitated for a heartbeat more, then shrugged and headed for the holes where she stored her herbs. Yellowfang could see how far down she had to reach to retrieve a few shriveled borage leaves.
Sagewhisker turned around with her mouth full of herbs. Nodding to Yellowfang, she padded out of the den. As the medicine cat bounded across the clearing, she passed Raggedpelt, who stood in the middle of the camp looking around. Yellowfang trotted over to him.
“There you are!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you. I thought we’d do some battle training with Foxheart and Wolfstep.” He flicked his tail toward the two young warriors who were waiting eagerly behind him.
Between her hunger and the sensations of Littlebird’s fever, Yellowfang knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on practicing battle skills. “No, thanks,” she replied. “I’m going out hunting again.”
“Oh, come on,” Raggedpelt insisted. “We hunted all morning.”
Anger flared up inside Yellowfang. “Fight moves aren’t going to fill our bellies,” she growled. “The Clan needs to find food, not prepare for battles that might not even happen! All the other Clans are too busy trying to fill their bellies to have time to attack us.”
Raggedpelt took a step back, confusion in his eyes. “I thought you wanted to be the best warrior you can be,” he protested. “Let the apprentices hunt. We can’t ignore battle training just because they can’t find enough for us to eat.”
Yellowfang opened her mouth to argue.
“Leave her, Raggedpelt.” Foxheart pushed up close to Raggedpelt’s shoulder. “I’ll get Lizardstripe to come with us.”
