Thunder And Shadow

“You’re right. Besides, if she was special, wouldn’t StarClan have sent more of a sign?”

Mousewhisker’s nest rustled. “I know they were found ‘in shadow,’ but that doesn’t seem like enough.”

Twigkit leaned closer to the den wall and pricked her ears. They’re talking about me and Violetkit!

“Perhaps the prophecy was about som ething else,” Rosepetal meowed thoughtfully.

“And finding Twigkit and Violetkit was a coincidence,” Mousewhisker concluded.

“Like you say, Twigkit does seem pretty ordinary. And until she learns to hunt, she’s another belly for the Clan to fill.” Rosepetal sighed. “Let’s just hope leaf-bare is m ild. Heavy snows mean scarce prey. There m ay not be enough to get us through to newleaf.”

Another belly to fill? Anxiety pricked through Twigkit’s pelt. And what did they mean by ordinary? Had the Clan only taken her in because they believed she was part of a prophecy? Her breath caught in her throat. What if she wasn’t special? Would they ask her to leave? If there wasn’t enough prey during leaf-bare, they might! She im agined wandering alone through the forest, thick snows piling between the trees, a cold wind slicing through her fur. She could picture foxes watching from the undergrowth, their hungry gazes sharpening as they saw her. How would I survive alone?

Outside the nursery, Larkkit rolled over sleepily and stretched.

If only I were Clanborn. They couldn’t throw me out. She lifted her chin determ inedly. I have to prove that I’m special!

Pelt twitching nervously, Twigkit hurried toward the medicine den. She pushed through the brambles.

Alderpaw turned. His eyes rounded with worry as he saw her. “Is som ething wrong?”

Twigkit forced her fur to sm ooth and blinked at him innocently. “No.” She wanted to run to his side and feel his com forting warmth against her. She wanted to ask him if she was special and hear him tell her that of course she was. But he was standing beside Jayfeather.

“Look at this, Alderpaw,” Jayfeather mewed curtly, ignoring Twigpaw’s arrival. “Can you see any signs of infection?”

The medicine cat was inspecting a cut on Birchfall’s paw, and Twigkit knew that he wouldn’t be pleased if she interrupted.

Alderpaw peered closely at the warrior’s pad. “It looks like a clean cut.”

“How should we treat it?” Jayfeather asked.

“Cobweb,” Alderpaw replied.

Jayfeather lifted his gaze sharply toward his apprentice. “Just cobweb?” Irritation edged his mew.

Alderpaw shifted his paws, his eyes flitting nervously toward the herb store.

“Just because there’s no infection now doesn’t mean one won’t develop,” Jayfeather meowed.

“We could wash in som e m arigold pulp before we dress it,” Alderpaw suggested hopefully.

“Go and fetch som e, then!” Jayfeather turned his attention back to Birchfall’s paw, turning it gently with his own to closer exam ine the warrior’s pad.

As Birchfall winced, the brambles swished beside Twigkit.

Whitewing lim ped in, pain darkening her gaze. “I have an ache in m y side,” she m urm ured.

Jayfeather dropped Birchfall’s paw and hurried toward her.

“When did it start?” He sniffed the white she-cat’s breath, then ran his m uzzle along her flank.

“Around dawn. After I’d eaten a m ouse.”

“Did it come on suddenly?” Jayfeather asked.

“Quite sharply, but it’s been getting worse all m orning.”

“Have you vom ited?” Jayfeather pressed his paw into Whitewing’s flank.

She gasped with pain.

“Well?” He padded around Whitewing and pressed her flank on the other side.

“No,” she rasped. “I don’t feel sick.”

“Come here, Alderpaw.” Jayfeather flicked his tail.

Alderpaw stared across the medicine den, a bundle of m arigold in his m outh.

“Hurry up!” Jayfeather snapped.

Alderpaw dropped the m arigold and hurried toward his m entor.

“Press here.” Jayfeather pointed to Whitewing’s flank.

Alderpaw lifted his paw slowly and pressed gently against her pelt.

“Harder!” Jayfeather ordered. “She won’t even feel that.”

Twigkit saw Alderpaw’s eyes flash with trepidation as he pushed harder into Whitewing’s side.

Whitewing winced.

“Sorry,” Alderpaw mewed quickly.

Jayfeather huffed. “If you apologize to a patient every time you hurt them, y ou’ll never get any thing done. Now, what did you feel?”

“It feels hard beneath her pelt,” Alderpaw answered.

“Trapped wind.” Jayfeather turned back to Birchfall. “She ate her m ouse too quickly. How should you treat it?”

I know! Twigkit leaned forward excitedly. She remembered Honey kit’s belly ache. She willed Alderpaw to remember.

But Alderpaw stared helplessly at Jayfeather.

“Chervil root!” Twigkit blurted. See! I am special!

Jayfeather’s whiskers twitched irritably. “Chervil is for nausea,” he snapped. “Trapped wind needs watermint. And no one was asking y ou. If you must hang around the den, keep quiet!”

Twigkit shriveled beneath her pelt, hot with sham e.