Yellowfang’s Secret полностью

“Every cat thinks he’s Foxheart’s,” Rowanberry murmured into her ear. “Look at her with Raggedpelt. They’re very close.”

Another stab of fury pierced Yellowfang. She wanted to yowl, No! Brokenkit is mine! But she made herself keep quiet and go on eating shrew.

“What sort of cat would give up her own kit?” Rowanberry went on, sounding scandalized.

“A cat who’s set on becoming deputy when Raggedpelt is leader?” Ashheart suggested, padding up with Frogtail. “Foxheart has always been ambitious. She probably thinks having a kit would let another cat steal her chance.” She turned to her Clanmate. “What do you think, Frogtail?”

“I don’t listen to gossip,” Frogtail responded. “If the kit is Foxheart’s, so what? It’ll be an apprentice before long, and have a mentor to take the place of its parents.” He gave his tail a flick. “If I were a she-cat, I wouldn’t want to be stuck in the nursery either.”

Yellowfang abandoned her half-eaten shrew and withdrew to the medicine cats’ den.

“What’s wrong?” Sagewhisker meowed.

“The Clan is gossiping about Brokenkit,” Yellowfang told her. “They all think he’s Foxheart’s.”

Sagewhisker looked mildly surprised. “Well, it’s better to have the Clan think that Brokenkit’s mother is a ShadowClan cat and not a kittypet or a rogue.”

Yellowfang sighed, knowing that was true. I don’t have to like it, though. She curled up in her nest again, trying to sleep, but after two moons of having a full belly, now the emptiness kept her awake.

A few sunrises later, Yellowfang returned to the clearing with a mouthful of chervil root to see Lizardstripe emerging from the nursery. Brightflower padded over to Yellowfang as she paused, wondering why Lizardstripe was leaving her kits.

“The kits’ eyes are open,” Brightflower reported, her eyes gleaming. “And Lizardstripe is bringing them out for the first time.”

“I hope it’s not too soon,” Yellowfang muttered. It’s okay to be anxious. I’m a medicine cat!

“They’ll be fine,” Brightflower assured her. “It’s such a beautiful day.”

Several cats had gathered around the nursery to see the kits come out. Rowanberry was there with Nutwhisker and Russetfur, while Ashheart and Wolfstep stood a little farther off. All three elders watched from the entrance to their den.

Deerkit and Tanglekit bounced into the open first, only to halt and gaze around them, their eyes wide with curiosity. Runningkit, who was the smallest of the litter, followed them more slowly, pausing in the nursery entrance while he sniffed several times. Then he suddenly decided to join his brother and sister, dashing out into the clearing and stumbling over his own paws.

Murmurs of admiration and amusement arose from the cats watching, and more of the Clan strolled up. Mudclaw joined Lizardstripe, who was licking a paw and drawing it over her ears, her eyes glinting as she heard the Clan praising her kits.

Maybe she’ll be proud of them after all, Yellowfang thought, staying at the back of the crowd as she looked for Brokenkit.

He tumbled out of the nursery a heartbeat later and stood blinking in the sunlight, his dark tabby pelt bristling. Even though he was slightly younger, he was just as big as the others.

“He’s a fine kit,” Yellowfang heard Mousewing commenting.

Deerleap nodded. “He should make a strong warrior one day.”

Yellowfang wanted to enjoy the praise of her kit, even though she couldn’t acknowledge it, but there was no real warmth in the warriors’ words. They don’t like the fact that no cat knows who his mother is.

Amberleaf padded up a moment later. “Does he look like a rogue to you?” she whispered, confirming Yellowfang’s suspicions. “If Foxheart is his mother, why not say so?”

Mousewing muttered agreement. “I wouldn’t have said he’s half kittypet, but then look at his father. Remember what they said about Raggedpelt when he was born.”

Not wanting to hear any more, Yellowfang turned to leave. But Littlebird padded up and stopped her.

“You haven’t come to see me for a while,” she mewed.

Yellowfang fought with guilt. She had deliberately avoided the elder in case Littlebird realized she was expecting kits. “I’ve been busy,” she replied.

“Too busy for your old friends?” Littlebird pressed. Beckoning Yellowfang with a flick of her ears, she led the way to a sunny spot away from the other cats, and settled down with her paws tucked underneath her. “Lots of kits,” she commented. “Good for the Clan, but not so good in leaf-bare.”

“Lizardstripe seems to be managing,” Yellowfang pointed out. The elder’s eyes were slitted against the sunlight, but Yellowfang still felt as if Littlebird was scrutinizing her.

“What about that extra kit?” Littlebird prompted. “Where do you think his mother is?”

Yellowfang looked away. “I have no idea. As long as Lizardstripe is willing to raise him, does it matter?”