“Fine,” Yellowfang replied, falling into step beside him. “Though I’m not sure I’ll make it as far as the big oak.”
Her wounds still felt sore, and her legs were weak from lack of exercise, but it was good to take in long breaths of cold, fresh air, and to see something other than the walls of the medicine cat’s den.
“We must get you back into battle training,” Raggedpelt decided as they padded through the forest. “Then the next time WindClan attacks, you’ll be better prepared. I’ve been thinking about some new fighting moves…”
Yellowfang listened with a sinking feeling in her belly while he described his ideas to improve her skills.
“Well? What do you think?” Raggedpelt prompted when he had finished.
“I—I’m not fully healed yet.” Yellowfang sought desperately for excuses. “Maybe in another quarter moon…”
Raggedpelt halted, his whiskers twitching. “Warriors have to be strong at all times!” he reminded. “You only feel weak because you’ve been sitting in a nest for too long.”
Yellowfang bowed her head. “Yes, you’re probably right.”
By the time she and Raggedpelt returned to camp, Yellowfang was worn out. Heading for the medicine cat’s den, she met Sagewhisker on her way out.
“It’s the night of the half-moon,” Sagewhisker meowed. “I’m going to the Moonstone to meet the other medicine cats.”
“I hope all goes well,” Yellowfang told her. She thought about the way ThunderClan’s medicine cat had been asking questions about ShadowClan at the last Gathering, and wondered if Featherwhisker would quiz Sagewhisker as well.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Sagewhisker replied. “Yellowfang, I want you to stay in my den for one more night. You can go back to the warriors’ den tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Yellowfang agreed.
Raggedpelt touched his nose to her shoulder. “Let’s eat first,” he suggested.
After she had shared a vole with him, Yellowfang retreated to her nest in Sagewhisker’s den. Her head felt fuzzy with tiredness, and as soon as she curled up in the moss she sank deeply into sleep. She woke in darkness to the sound of a startled meow and a sharp blow in her ribs as a cat tripped over her.
“Sorry, Yellowfang. I forgot you were there.”
It was Poolcloud; Yellowfang made out her pale pelt in the light of the half-moon and smelled fear on her fur.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“It’s Cloudkit,” Poolcloud replied anxiously. “He keeps vomiting; he must have eaten something bad when Nettlespot wasn’t watching. I came to look for some herbs that will help him.”
When she poked a paw down the hole where the willow leaves were kept, she found that only a tiny fragment was left. “There’s not much here,” she told Poolcloud. “But it’s probably enough for a tiny kit like Cloudkit.”
Poolcloud nodded, flustered. “Whatever you think is best, Yellowfang.”
Yellowfang led the way out of the den with the scrap of leaf in her jaws. A sour smell of vomit hit her in the throat as she entered the nursery. In the dim light she made out Nettlespot crouched over Cloudkit, who was stretched out in the moss, his fur dark and clumped with sweat. As Yellowfang approached his belly heaved and he started retching, but nothing came out of his parted jaws.
“There’s nothing left inside him,” Poolcloud murmured. “Poor little mite!”
Nettlespot looked up as the two she-cats entered. “Please, you have to fetch Sagewhisker!” she begged. “I lost his sister, and I can’t bear to lose this one as well.”
“Sagewhisker has gone to the Moonstone. I’ve brought something to treat him with,” Yellowfang meowed, setting the willow leaf down in front of Cloudkit.
“What are you doing?” Nettlespot reached out and blocked Yellowfang with one paw. “You’re not a medicine cat. Leave him alone! You might make him worse!”
“It’s okay, Nettlespot,” Poolcloud mewed gently, resting her tail-tip on the distraught queen’s shoulder. “Yellowfang knows which herb to use, and Sagewhisker isn’t here, so we don’t have a choice.”
Nettlespot hesitated for a moment and then drew back, letting Yellowfang get close to her kit. She watched with wide, worried eyes as Yellowfang chewed up the willow and carefully pushed the pulp into Cloudkit’s mouth.
Cloudkit let out a pitiful mewling sound. “Yuck!”
“It’s okay,” Yellowfang comforted him, massaging his throat with one paw until she was sure he had swallowed the leaf. “It tastes nasty but it will make you feel better soon. Poolcloud, will you get me some moss soaked in water?”
