Raggedpelt nodded; then with a cold look at Yellowfang he turned his back on her and headed across the camp toward the tunnel. For a couple of heartbeats Yellowfang stared after him.
Yellowfang found the Clan deputy talking to Cedarstar in the leader’s den among the roots of the big oak tree. As she padded up, she noticed that both cats looked far older than their seasons. They were as skinny as foxes, their muzzles gray with age, their bodies curled together on the damp moss.
Pausing at the entrance to the den, Yellowfang dipped her head. Cedarstar roused at the sight of her. “What is it, Yellowfang?”
“I really wanted to speak to Stonetooth,” Yellowfang admitted. “Is there a hunting patrol I could join?”
It was Cedarstar who replied, his voice approving. “You’re working hard, Yellowfang. Make sure you get something to eat before you go out again.”
Stonetooth nodded. “Deerleap is going to lead a patrol with Toadskip and Ashheart,” he meowed, angling his ears toward the fresh-kill pile, where the cats he had named were eating hurriedly. “You can go with them.”
“Thanks!”
Yellowfang dashed off, reported to Deerleap, and grabbed a rather puny shrew from the fresh-kill pile. She was gulping down the last mouthful when Deerleap led the patrol out through the tunnel. The forest still seemed empty of prey. Toadskip caught a mouse that popped up from some roots almost under his nose, but that was all they saw until the walls of the Twolegplace appeared through the trees.
“I hope we don’t go too close,” Ashheart murmured; she and Yellowfang had dropped slightly behind the others. “I don’t want to meet any kittypets. They were crazy to attack like that!”
“They won’t bother us if we stay out of their way,” Yellowfang responded. “Especially now that they realize we didn’t steal Russetpaw and Boulder.”
Ashheart looked unconvinced. “Who knows what kittypets will do? It’s not like they have a warrior code.” She glanced around, flexing her claws as if she expected a battle-hungry kittypet to explode out of the undergrowth. “What was it like when you had to face that big kittypet tom?” she continued. “Were you really scared? Did Raggedpelt save your life?”
Yellowfang didn’t know how to reply. She didn’t want to bolster Raggedpelt’s lie, but she couldn’t give him away to other cats. “I guess…” she mumbled. “It all happened so fast.”
“The kittypets fought better than I’d expected,” Ashheart went on; Yellowfang was relieved that she didn’t probe any further into Hal’s death. “But it’s not like they’ve had warrior training. Which of our battle moves do you think worked best against them?”
At that moment Yellowfang realized that Deerleap had turned back and was padding toward them.
“We’re supposed to be hunting, in case you hadn’t noticed,” the older she-cat rasped. “And here you are, chattering like a pair of starlings.”
“Sorry, Deerleap,” Yellowfang mewed.
“I should think so. Yellowfang, you see what you can find in that bramble thicket. Ashheart, try that bracken over there. Honestly, I shouldn’t have to split you up like a couple of apprentices before you do any work.”
Her pelt hot with shame, Yellowfang headed for the brambles. Parting her jaws to taste the air, she picked up the faint trace of something green and growing. Following the scent trail, Yellowfang came to a piece of bark lying at the edge of the thicket. Turning it over with one paw, she discovered a few stems of coltsfoot, the bright yellow petals just beginning to show in the green buds. The bark and the brambles must have sheltered them from the worst of the icy weather.
“You’re supposed to be hunting things we can eat,” Toadskip pointed out.
“But Sagewhisker needs these!” Yellowfang protested around the mouthful of stems.
Deerleap nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Leave them on the ground now, while you look for prey.”
“Sorry, I can’t,” Yellowfang apologized. “If I put them on the ground they’ll wither and freeze. I need to take them back to Sagewhisker right away.”
Deerleap and Toadskip exchanged a glance. “For StarClan’s sake!” Toadskip muttered.
