Bluestar's Prophecy

“I know, little one.” Bluefur nudged him on. She remembered the first time she had left the camp, when Sunstar—Sunfall, then—had taken her to the top of the ravine just before she was made an apprentice. It had been the biggest adventure of her life, and she hadn’t been able to imagine a time when scrambling up and down the ravine would feel ordinary or easy.

The side of the ravine loomed above them. The kits tipped back their heads and stared up, their eyes huge and filled with the moon.

“I’ll have to carry you up,” Bluefur told them. “Then you can see the real forest.”

Mistykit blinked. “There’s more?”

Bluefur pricked her ears, listening for Stormtail. She knew he was guarding the camp tonight.

Stonekit pricked his ears, too. “Are ShadowClan warriors after us?” he squeaked. “In the game, I mean.”

“They might be,” Bluefur whispered. “We have to keep a lookout, just in case. That’s what makes it so exciting.”

Mistykit whipped around. “I think I see a ShadowClan warrior in the trees,” she warned.

Bluefur’s heart lurched. “Where?”

“Only pretend,” Mistykit purred.

Sighing, Bluefur scooped her up and tackled the first tumble of rocks. Leaving the little gray kit at the top, she went back for Stonekit.

She was panting by the time she had collected the last kit. She left Mosskit until last because she was the smallest. She didn’t wriggle when Bluefur picked her up, but she still felt heavier than a rock.

“My scruff hurts,” Stonekit complained. “I bet I could have climbed some of it myself.”

“There wasn’t time.” Bluefur glanced at the moon rising in the sky. Oakheart would be on his way.

Stonekit stared into the forest, where moon shadows darkened the snow. “I’m going first.” He scampered ahead of his littermates, glancing over his shoulder. “Come on, you two.”

Bluefur nosed Mistykit and Mosskit forward. Even under cover of the trees, the snow was so deep that they had to struggle with every step, leaping out of one drift and sinking into the next. She scooped them along, relieved that Stonekit seemed to be able to manage by himself.

He glanced back at her. “Does the forest go on forever?”

Bluefur had wondered the same thing, all those seasons ago. She shook her head. “But ThunderClan has a lot of territory. That’s what feeds us and makes us strong.”

“It’s not feeding the Clan much at the moment,” Mosskit grumbled.

“You should see it in greenleaf.” Bluefur’s heart twisted. They’d never see it in greenleaf. They’d be RiverClan. Suddenly she wanted them to know everything about their birth Clan, and what it was to be a forest cat. “There are squirrels and birds and mice. All good hunting, once you’ve learned the techniques.”

Stonekit squashed himself to the snowy ground. “Redpaw’s already told me how to do a hunting crouch,” he mewed.

“That’s wonderful, darling.” Bluefur felt a surge of pride as she saw his tail sticking out straight and still, keeping his haunches low while managing to lift his belly off the ground. He was a natural.

“You try it,” she urged Mosskit and Mistykit. She wanted them to keep some memory of how ThunderClan hunted.

The two kits crouched awkwardly.

“The snow’s too cold,” Mistykit protested, fidgeting.

What am I doing? The forest was freezing. They needed to keep moving. Bluefur shook the snow from her whiskers. “Come on,” she urged. “We can practice hunting another day.”

They were halfway to Sunningrocks when the kits began to tire. Mistykit was shivering, and Mosskit’s eyes were glazed with exhaustion.

“Can we go home now?” she whimpered. “It’s cold and I’m tired.”

“We have to keep moving,” Bluefur insisted, fishing Stonekit out of a drift. Snow had clumped to his fur and slowed him down.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore!” Mistykit wailed.

Stonekit didn’t try to change her mind. He just crouched beside her, shivering so much that Bluefur could hear his teeth rattling. Bluefur realized how tiny they were out there beneath the trees, how thin their pelts were. They should be snuggling beside the warmth of her belly, not trekking through the forest on a journey that no warrior would try in this weather.

“Just a bit farther,” she urged.

Stonekit sat down and stared at her. “I can’t feel my paws,” he announced. “How can I walk if I don’t know where my paws are?”

Mosskit and Mistykit huddled together. They looked as if they couldn’t even feel their noses.

She had to get them to Sunningrocks! ThunderClan depended on it.

An owl hooted. Bluefur stiffened, scanning the treetops as she gathered her kits closer. They’d be nothing more than a mouthful of tasty prey to a hungry owl.

“I’ve got an idea,” she told them. Digging with her ice-numb paws, she scooped a hole in the snow underneath some ferns. “In you go,” she encouraged. The kits stumbled in and clustered into a small, shivering clump. At least they were out of the wind now.

“I’ll be back for you in a moment.” Bluefur bounded a tree-length away and dug another hole, then hurried back to her kits.

“Where did you go?” Mistykit wailed.