Bluestar's Prophecy

“But it feels like everything’s changed,” Bluefur murmured. She ducked under a bramble and held it back with her tail while Snowfur joined her. “Pinestar’s gone, Goosefeather’s crazier than a fox, and Sweetpaw’s dead. She was younger than us!”

Snowfur paused to nose a pale blue flower hanging over the path. “But there’s always new life,” she mewed softly.

Bluefur blinked. “What do you mean?”

Her sister lowered her muzzle and looked at her. Above her head, the blue flower nodded as if it were listening. “I’m expecting kits.”

The ground seemed to dip under Bluefur’s paws. “Already?” she gasped. They were only just warriors! What did Snowfur want to bother with kits for?

Snowfur’s eyes clouded. “Aren’t you pleased?”

“Of…of course,” Bluefur mumbled. “I just didn’t expect—”

Snowfur cut her off. “Thistleclaw’s overjoyed,” she mewed. “He says the Clan needs new warriors. There are only Lionpaw and Goldenpaw in the apprentices’ den.”

Well, as long as Thistleclaw’s pleased, that’s all right, then. Bluefur bit back the cutting remark. She didn’t want to spoil her sister’s happiness. But something inside her felt cold as snow, filling her up and choking her from within. Snowfur suddenly seemed further away than ever. She’d be in the nursery soon, and then fussing over her kits with Thistleclaw. Is this the last time we’ll ever go hunting?

“He’ll make a good father, you know.” Snowfur seemed to be trying to reassure her. “I mean, I know you don’t like him, but he is good and kind.”

Bluefur stared at her sister, trying to imagine Thistleclaw being kind.

“He’s a loyal mate, and I trust him,” Snowfur insisted.

Bluefur sighed. Snowfur’s eyes were filled with worry. Bluefur couldn’t let her feel like this. “I’m thrilled for you, I really am,” she mewed. Absently she plucked up a wad of moss and let it drop from her claw. ThunderClan did need kits. The three young ones in Leopardfoot’s litter weren’t exactly strong, and Thistleclaw was right: ThunderClan needed more apprentices. And…Snowfur’s kits would be her kin. Bluefur glanced up at the sky, wondering what Moonflower thought about the new kits. She realized that her mother would be pleased that Snowfur was happy.

Bluefur pressed her muzzle to her sister’s cheek.

I’ll be happy, too. I promise.

Chapter 25

“Quick! Get Featherwhisker!” Bluefur gasped. Goosefeather still hadn’t formally retired, but it was becoming more and more acknowledged among his Clanmates that Featherwhisker was in charge of the medicine cat duties.

On the other side of the nursery, Robinwing sleepily lifted her head. “Are the kits coming?”

“What else would it be?” Thistleclaw snapped. The warrior had stopped by the nursery to visit his mate when Snowfur’s pains had suddenly begun. Bluefur was glad she had been there, too.

Robinwing heaved herself to her paws. “I’ll get him,” she offered. She squeezed out of the den, puffing. A half-moon from kitting, the small, energetic warrior had become as cumbersome as a badger.

Thistleclaw plucked nervously at the edge of Snowfur’s nest as his mate writhed in the bracken. Bluefur licked Snowfur between the ears. “It’ll be over soon,” she promised. She tried not to think of Leopardfoot’s long kitting. Or the death of her she-kits before they’d reached one moon. That had seemed particularly cruel, so soon after Leopardfoot had lost her mate to the life of a kittypet. At least Tigerkit’s strong and healthy, Bluefur reminded herself. He was scrabbling out of Leopardfoot’s nest now, stretching up to see what was happening.

Leopardfoot tugged him back by the tail. “You’re as nosy as a squirrel,” she scolded gently. “Why don’t you go outside and see if you can find Lionpaw?”

“Okay,” Tigerkit chirped. He squirmed out of the nursery just as Featherwhisker pushed his way in.

“Watch out! Coming through!” Tigerkit yowled as he scooted straight under the medicine cat’s belly.

“That kit gets bossier by the day,” Featherwhisker observed lightly, dropping a bundle of leaves by Snowfur’s nest. “I know he’s the only kit in the Clan, but I wish everyone would stop indulging him. He’s starting to act like a little leader.”

Bluefur flicked her tail. “Snowfur’s kits will give them someone else to fuss over.”

“How are you doing, little one?” Featherwhisker bent down to sniff the white queen’s head.

“I’m thirsty,” Snowfur whimpered. “Can I have some wet moss?”

“Good idea,” Featherwhisker mewed. “Thistleclaw, please could you get some?”

Thistleclaw stopped shredding the bracken at the edge of the nest and looked at his mate. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“We’ll take care of her,” Featherwhisker promised.

As soon as he was gone, Snowfur sighed. “Thanks for getting rid of him before he pulled my nest to pieces.”