Leafpool’s Wish

Leafpool nodded. And one day you will be Jayfeather, like your father.

Jaykit ran in a circle and blundered straight back into the snowdrift. Squirrelflight hooked him out with an amused purr. “You can watch where you’re going now that your eyes are open!” she teased.

Lionkit squeaked and Jaykit tottered in the direction of the sound. Leafpool looked around for her daughter. She was wrestling with a leaf, biting it with her tiny teeth and clawing at the edges. “Come on, fierce little warrior,” Leafpool called. “Back to the nest to warm up!”

The kits only stayed still long enough for Leafpool to lick their fur clean before they tumbled out of the nest and started exploring the inside of the tree. Lionkit found the dry clump of moss that Leafpool had drunk from during the birth, and he started rolling it around with angry little growls in his throat. Hollykit watched for a moment, her head on one side, before running over to join him. Bits of moss flew up as they tussled with their prey.

Leafpool noticed Jaykit marching across the den. Suddenly he slipped on a wet leaf and bumped his nose against the bark wall. Leafpool was ready to comfort him, but the little cat shook his head, then changed direction and headed for the moss game instead. Hollykit stopped playing and sat back to let him have a turn shredding the ball. There wasn’t much left but a few scraps once Lionkit had finished shaking it in his teeth. Leafpool felt a rush of love for her brave, strong son and her gentle, thoughtful daughter. But there was a special place in her heart for her smallest kit, who seemed oddly vulnerable compared with his littermates.

Half a moon passed. The snow began to thaw and the she-cats basked in an unexpected and welcome patch of sunshine outside the hollow tree. In front of them, Lionkit, Hollykit, and Jaykit were pushing fronds of dead bracken into a pile, then leaping off a grassy tussock into the middle.

“I can jump the highest! Watch me!” mewed Lionkit. He sprang into the air with his sturdy forelegs outstretched and plunged into the ferns.

“And me!” squeaked Jaykit. He leaped off the tussock and there was a muffled yelp as he landed squarely on his brother, who was still wriggling free.

“Jaykit, look out!” Hollykit piped. She was purring with amusement. “You’re so silly!”

The little toms scrambled out of the bracken with their fur full of spiky brown prickles.

“I think we’ve just seen some flying hedgehogs,” joked Squirrelflight. “Come here, you two. Let’s clean you up.”

Lionkit ignored her. “That was fun! Let’s do it again!” He scampered back to the tussock.

“Wait for me!” Jaykit chirped.

Leafpool shook her head. “They have so much energy!” she exclaimed.

“They’re growing fast,” Squirrelflight agreed. There was a pause, and it seemed to Leafpool as if the whole forest was waiting. “You know we should take them back,” Squirrelflight mewed.

Leafpool closed her eyes. “I wish we didn’t have to,” she whispered. “They’re so happy here.”

“I know. But we don’t have a choice. If we stay here any longer, the kits might remember too much…”

Leafpool stared at her kits as if she would never see them again. Will they remember this time? she wondered. Will there always be some part of them that knows the truth? She knew that Squirrelflight would love them, but what about Brambleclaw? And through Brambleclaw, Tigerstar? Does he know that these kits have been born? Leafpool stared at Lionkit in alarm. Will Tigerstar lure him to the Dark Forest as well?

Suddenly there was a wail, and Leafpool realized Jaykit had vanished. Lionkit and Hollykit were standing on top of the tussock with their backs to the she-cats, looking down.

“Jaykit fell in a hole!” Lionkit called. “I think he’s stuck.”

“Jaykit’s a mouse-brain!” mewed Hollykit.

“Hush,” Leafpool chided, bounding over to take a look. The little gray tom had vanished into the gap where a sapling had stood before being wrenched out of the soil by a storm. Only the tips of his ears were visible against the brown earth.

“Help!” he wailed.

Leafpool braced her hindpaws in the loose soil and leaned down into the hole. “Wriggle this way, Jaykit,” she panted. She felt his feather-soft fur brush against her muzzle, and reached down to grip his scruff in her teeth. With a heave, she dragged herself backward and hauled him out of the hole.

Jaykit crouched down and shook himself, sending earth flying. He gazed up at Leafpool with eyes as clear as the sky. “Thank you for rescuing me!” he chirped. “That was a really big adventure, wasn’t it?”

“Yes it was,” purred Leafpool. She looked into her son’s eyes. They were so beautiful, and yet…

She looked over her shoulder. “There’s a big leaf over there, Jaykit,” she mewed. “Please could you fetch it for me so I can wipe the mud off my fur?”