Bluestar's Prophecy

“Well, I saw him sunning himself by the Owl Tree, fast asleep. His snoring was scaring the prey.” He flicked his tail toward the morsel that Weedwhisker was enjoying. “It took me an age to find that.”

“Goosefeather has taught me a lot,” Featherwhisker said in defense of his mentor. “And there’s no herb in the forest he doesn’t know how to use.”

“If he can be bothered to pick them,” Mumblefoot muttered.

Featherwhisker glanced at Bluekit and Leopardkit. “Take no notice,” he meowed. “Goosefeather and Mumblefoot have never seen eye to eye.”

“And you shouldn’t be saying such things, Mumblefoot,” Larksong scolded. “You know Goosefeather is their kin.”

“He is?” Bluekit blinked at the tortoiseshell.

“He was your mother’s littermate,” Larksong explained. She swept Bluekit and Snowkit forward with her tail. “Come and tell us all about yourselves.”

“My name is Bluekit, and this is my sister, Snowkit. Our mother is Moonflower and our father is Stormtail,” Bluekit chirped. “And today is the first time we’ve been out of the nursery!”

Weedwhisker licked his lips as he swallowed the last of the mouse. “Welcome to the Clan, little ones. I’m sure you’ll be up to trouble in no time. Kits can’t seem to help themselves.”

Bluekit pricked her ears. “Have Leopardkit and Patchkit been in trouble?”

Larksong purred. “I don’t know a kit who hasn’t.”

Relief warmed Bluekit’s belly. She didn’t want to be the only one who got things wrong. Like having a squirrel fall on my head.

“It’s about time Pinestar made those two apprentices,” Mumblefoot croaked. “They have too much time on their paws. Every time I go to the fresh-kill pile, I trip over one of them kicking up dust with some silly game or other.”

“I’ll ask Swiftbreeze if I can take them herb gathering in the forest tomorrow,” Featherwhisker suggested. “That should keep them busy.”

Bluekit’s eyes grew wide. “In the forest?” she echoed.

Featherwhisker nodded. “We won’t go far from camp.”

That must be where Dapplepaw was taking Patchkit and Leopardkit. Bluekit wondered how much more there was beyond the clearing and the dens.

Beside her, Snowkit yawned.

“You’d better be getting them back to their mother,” Larksong advised. “Snowkit looks like she’s going to fall asleep on her paws.”

Bluekit turned to see her sister’s eyes drooping. She suddenly realized that her own legs ached and her belly was rumbling. But she didn’t want to leave; she wanted to learn more. What did Mumblefoot’s tick look like? Where was Goosefeather now?

“Come on.” Featherwhisker began to usher them out of the den.

“How can we learn anything back in the nursery?” Bluekit objected.

“You’ll learn a lot more once you’ve rested,” Larksong meowed.

“Come back and see us soon!” Weedwhisker called.

Bluekit stumbled as they crossed the clearing. Though her mind whirled with questions, her paws were clumsy with fatigue. She felt relieved when Featherwhisker nudged her into the nursery.

“What did you see, little one?” Moonflower asked as Bluekit snuggled down beside her mother with Snowkit.

“Everything,” Bluekit yawned.

Moonflower purred. “Not everything, my darling.” Bluekit closed her eyes as her mother went on softly. “There’s a whole forest for you to explore. And even that is just part of the Clans’ territories. There are lands beyond—Mothermouth, Highstones, and even farther.”

“How far does the world stretch?” Snowkit murmured sleepily.

“Only StarClan knows,” Moonflower replied.

Bluekit imagined trees and bracken and nettles and gorse stretching far beyond the camp into an endless sky. “But my legs aren’t long enough to travel that far,” she protested. As her visions faded into dreams, she heard her mother’s voice continue.

“They’ll grow, my sweet, until one day they’ll be strong enough to walk the whole world.”

Chapter 2

Bluekit watched Snowkit’s tail flick enticingly, and pushed away the urge to leap on it and pin it to the ground. She didn’t dare risk getting her pelt dusty.

“And remember,” Moonflower said, giving Bluekit’s ears another wash, “sit up straight and be polite.”

Bluekit rolled her eyes.

The three of them were waiting at the edge of the clearing.

“It’ll be the first time Stormtail’s seen you since you opened your eyes,” Moonflower reminded them unnecessarily. Bluekit’s belly had been knotted with excitement all morning. She wanted her father to see that she wasn’t a tiny, mewling kit anymore.

Moonflower glanced at the gorse barrier. “He promised he’d be back from hunting by sunhigh.”

Bluekit kept her paws rooted to the ground. It was hard sitting still when the camp was so busy with new smells and sights.