Bluestar's Prophecy

“Look what he’s brought us to play with!” Snowkit gasped.

“That’s not for us, silly!” Bluekit whispered, remembering what Patchkit had told her. “It’s for the whole Clan.”

“And we’ll be eating it, not playing with it,” Moonflower put in sternly.

Snowkit’s shoulders slumped as she watched her father follow his patrol to the fresh-kill pile and lay the squirrel alongside the other prey. Then he turned and looked around the camp.

“Sit up straight!” Moonflower hissed.

Bluekit thought if she sat up any straighter she’d topple over backward, but she held herself as stiffly as she could until Stormtail’s gaze finally reached them.

A purr rumbled in her mother’s throat. “Stormtail.” Moonflower beckoned him toward Snowkit and Bluekit with her tail. “Come and meet your kits.”

Stormtail padded toward them and halted. “They look better with their eyes open,” he commented. His mew rumbled so deeply it sounded more like a growl.

“Do you see?” Moonflower prompted. “They both have blue eyes like you.”

Yes! Bluekit stretched her eyes wider so her father could admire them, but he hardly seemed to glance at her before he turned back to Moonflower. “They look like they’ll make good warriors.”

“Of course they will,” Moonflower purred. “They’re your kits.”

Bluekit stepped forward. “Was it hard to catch that squirrel?” She wanted Stormtail to look at her again. He might notice how much her pelt was like his.

He looked down at her and blinked. “Fat squirrels are easy to catch.”

“Will you teach us how to catch squirrels?” Snowkit asked, her tail stirring up the dust behind her.

“Your mentors will teach you,” Stormtail replied. “I hope Pinestar chooses well for you.”

Who would he choose? As Bluekit’s gaze wandered to the warriors’ den, the branches quivered and Adderfang padded out. With mews of delight, Leopardkit and Patchkit pounced on him. Leopardkit clung to her father’s tail while Patchkit landed squarely on his shoulders. Adderfang staggered and, with an exaggerated grunt of surprise, collapsed dramatically to the ground. Leopardkit and Patchkit leaped onto his belly, squeaking, but Adderfang tumbled them off with a purr and chased them away behind the den.

Stormtail glanced toward the commotion, his ears twitching. Bluekit thought perhaps he was imagining playing with his own kits like that once he got to know them better.

“Pinestar has asked me to share prey with him,” Stormtail told Moonflower.

Bluekit blinked. “Now?” Is he leaving already? “Can we come with you?”

Stormtail’s gaze flashed toward her, and she flinched when she saw the mixture of alarm and discomfort in his eyes. Doesn’t he like us?

“Kits should stay near the nursery,” he muttered.

Bluekit’s heart sunk as he turned to pad away, then swelled with hope when he paused and looked back over his shoulder. Has he changed his mind?

“Stonepelt told me you woke him up yesterday,” he growled. “Stay out of the warriors’ den.” He swung his head around and walked off.

Bluekit stared after him, hollow with disappointment.

Moonflower smoothed her tail along Bluekit’s ruffled flank. “Stormtail was only giving you advice,” she meowed. “So you’ll know better next time.”

Bluekit stared at her paws, wishing she’d never made such a stupid mistake.

Snowkit was skipping around her mother. “Of course we’ll know better next time. Does he think we’re mouse-brained?” She stopped and blinked. “He must be a really, really important warrior if Pinestar wants to share prey with him.”

“He is.” Moonflower watched as Stormtail picked up the squirrel he’d caught and carried it to the ThunderClan leader. Then she looked at Bluekit, her eyes warm. “He’ll probably have more time later.”

Bluekit lifted her chin. “He said we’d make good warriors!” Secretly vowing to prove him right, she pushed away the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Moonflower!” A mew of greeting startled Bluekit. She turned to see a speckled gray tom with pale blue eyes ambling out from a tunnel of ferns. “Did the great warrior meet his kits?”

Moonflower narrowed her eyes. “Of course.”

Snowkit’s eyes lit up. “Are you Goosefeather?”

“How did you guess?”

“That’s the medicine cats’ den, isn’t it?” Snowkit pointed her nose toward the fern tunnel. “So you must be.”

The tom sat down. “How do you know I wasn’t just visiting Goosefeather?” he sniffed.

“Then we’d have seen you go in!” Snowkit answered. “We’ve been sitting here for ages.”

“Really?” Goosefeather looked at Moonflower.

Moonflower’s tail flicked.

Bluekit sniffed the medicine cat. “You smell like Featherwhisker.” The tang of strange plants clung to his pelt along with the scent of musty bedding. “He says you know the name of every herb in the forest.”

“I do.” Goosefeather began washing his face.

Snowkit pushed past her. “Mumblefoot says you—”

“Let’s not worry about what Mumblefoot says,” Moonflower silenced her daughter.