With an exaggerated sigh, Scorchwind flopped down on his side so Yellowfang could get at his rat bite. The sudden movement sent a pulse of pain shooting through him, breaking Yellowfang’s careful control. More pain flooded over her: from Rowanberry and Brackenfoot; from Toadskip, who had torn a claw when fleeing from the rats; from Finchflight, whose paw was still hurting.
Yellowfang paused, taking a breath to clear her head.
“Can’t you hurry up?” Scorchwind prompted her.
Yellowfang glared at him as she slapped the poultice over his bite and secured it with cobwebs. Then she turned to look at Toadskip’s claw. By now Sagewhisker was finishing up with the other cats.
“That’s it,” she meowed to Yellowfang, who was winding cobweb around Toadskip’s paw. “We’re all done.”
Yellowfang sank down. She felt more exhausted than if she had done a whole border patrol.
“All of you should eat now and rest.” Cedarstar raised his voice to be heard by all the Clan. “After sunhigh there will be training to prepare for the rat attack tomorrow. Raggedpelt will be in charge.”
Excitement welled up inside Yellowfang, banishing some of her weariness.
She forced herself to her paws and plodded over to the tabby tom, who was in close discussion with Stonetooth and Brackenfoot. “Raggedpelt, that was a great idea,” she meowed.
Raggedpelt turned to give her a nod. “Thanks, Yellowfang.” He spoke lightly, but Yellowfang wanted to believe he appreciated what she said.
Sagewhisker was heading back to the den, and Yellowfang realized she should follow her, grabbing up the few leftover herbs as she went. Inside the den she sighed as she looked at the mess of overturned and rummaged herbs, all the different leaves mixed up together and scattered in the grass.
“It’ll be much worse after a battle, believe me,” Sagewhisker told her. “Come on, let’s get it cleared up.” As they began to sort through the scattered leaves, she added, “Raggedpelt has some good ideas. He’ll go far, that cat. Maybe even the next deputy.”
Yellowfang hid a thrilled purr.
The following day Yellowfang woke to see a clear, bright sky with not a breath of wind to stir the trees.
The Clan was gathering in the clearing, buzzing with energy like a swarm of bees as Cedarstar, Stonetooth, and Raggedpelt arranged the patrols.
“Raggedpelt, you’ll lead the last group,” Stonetooth announced. “You’ll be responsible for killing the rats once they’ve been trapped.”
“I’ll fight beside you, blow for blow,” Foxheart meowed to Raggedpelt; Yellowfang thought sourly that she looked as if she were plastered to his side with cobwebs. She felt a stab of jealousy as she remembered how proud she had felt when she and Archeye had killed a rat on their visit to Carrionplace.
Sagewhisker emerged from the den with a bundle of herbs. “Come on,” she mewed, her voice muffled by the leaves. “We have to be ready to go with them.”
“We’re going too?” Yellowfang asked, startled.
Sagewhisker nodded. “We’ll treat injuries as they occur, but stay out of the way of the fighting. That’s up to the warriors, okay?” Her eyes were stern, and Yellowfang knew she was giving her an unspoken reminder that she was a medicine cat now.
Yellowfang went back into the den and loaded up with herbs and cobweb. The sticky strands made her sneeze as she tried to pick them up.
The last of the patrols were already heading out of the camp. Yellowfang and Sagewhisker brought up the rear, following the warriors through the sparse, leaf-bare trees and across the marsh. The air was mild, and the persistent ice of leaf-bare was beginning to thaw; Yellowfang hissed in annoyance when she put her paw straight through one sheet of it into the freezing water below. After that she and Sagewhisker leaped from clump to clump of grass to keep their paws dry.
