Thunder And Shadow

As Needlepaw padded after Tawny pelt—shoulders loose, tail flicking breezily —Violetkit pressed back the panic rising in her chest. Forcing her pelt to sm ooth, she followed them, pretending to be calm.

The sun had dipped behind the trees and the Clan had settled around the clearing to eat.

Violetkit glanced at the fresh-kill pile, alm ost em pty now. Beepaw was rooting through it. Violetkit’s belly churned as the apprentice sniffed at a thrush. She felt too sick to be hungry.

Rowanstar looked up from the m ouse he was eating beside Crowfrost. “Tawny pelt.” He got to his paws, greeting the she-cat with a worried look. “What’s happened?” Clearly, he could see anger in her rippling pelt.

“Needlepaw took Violetkit out of camp.” Tawny pelt stepped aside and let Needlepaw face

Rowanstar.

Violetkit halted. Her paws felt shaky as she sensed the eyes of the other cats lifting from their fresh-kill and fixing on her. She glanced nervously at Needlepaw. Was her friend in serious trouble? And what about me? Did ShadowClan punish kits?

Rowanstar glared at Needlepaw. “Kits don’t leave camp,” he meowed sternly. “What were y ou thinking? There m ay be rogues in the forest. There are certainly foxes, and Spikefur said he saw an adder yesterday. A warrior would be lucky to survive an adder bite. A kit would die.”

Needlepaw blinked at him coolly. “I look out for adders and foxes. I wouldn’t let any thing hurt her.”

Rowanstar’s hackles lifted as though he was surprised to hear her talk back. “Kits do not leave camp,” he repeated.

Needlepaw glanced calm ly at Beepaw beside the fresh-kill pile. “It’s a dum b rule.”

Beepaw leaned closer, her eyes sparking with interest.

Violetkit stared at Needlepaw, shock fizzing through her fur. Had she really said that? And why had she shot a sly glance at Beepaw? Had they been planning to challenge Rowanstar like this?

Crowfrost stood up. His tail twitched angrily as Needlepaw went on.

“Like I told Tawny pelt, Violetkit was bored in camp.” She flicked her m uzzle dismissively toward the clearing. “There’s nothing to learn here except how to grow old.”

Sleekpaw, Juniperpaw, Yarrowpaw, and Strikepaw were padding closer, their eyes flashing with interest. Birchpaw and Lionpaw hung back, ey eing each other nervously, but Beepaw pricked her ears excitedly, as though willing Needlepaw to say more.

Rowanstar’s gaze flicked toward them, then back to Needlepaw. It was blazing with anger.

“There is plenty to learn in camp,” he hissed. “The warrior code, for a start. Too many rules are being ignored.”

“It’s im possible to remember all your rules.” Needlepaw flicked her tail irritably. “Perhaps if we had fewer rules, we’d obey more of them.”

Crowfrost flattened his ears. “Perhaps if we had sm arter apprentices, they wouldn’t have such a hard time remembering.”

Sleekpaw and Strikepaw, Crowfrost’s kits, hissed at the ShadowClan deputy. “Are you calling us dum b?”

Strikepaw glared at his father. “If you treated us better, we might try harder,” he snarled.

“Don’t forget there are nearly as many of us as there are of y ou. You’d be wise to give us a little more respect.”

Was that a threat? Violetkit stared at him, her m outh open. She shifted her paws uneasily. The apprentices were edging nearer to Needlepaw, as though gaining confidence with every complaint. Had they planned this rebellion, or had Needlepaw’s boldness sparked resentm ents that had been sim m ering for moons?

Yarrowpaw and Juniperpaw flicked their tails irritably. Beepaw padded from the fresh-kill pile to j oin them.

“Respect!” Rowanstar narrowed his eyes. “Respect has to be earned.” His growl was hard.

Beepaw tipped her head. “I don’t see the older cats earning any respect. All they do is hunt and sleep.”

Snowbird padded forward quickly, her pelt ruffled. “Beepaw!” She blinked at her daughter anxiously. “You mustn’t speak about your elders like that.”

“Why not?” Beepaw m oved closer to Yarrowpaw. “You taught us that ShadowClan cats can say what they like.”

Alarm sparked in Snowbird’s gaze as her kits stared at her petulantly. “Where has all this come from?”

Beepaw stared at her mother. “If you ever listened instead of just talking, y ou’d know.”

Crowfrost fluffed out his fur, his nervous gaze on his own kits. Sleekpaw, Juniperpaw, and Strikepaw were bunched close, staring questioningly at Rowanstar.

Sleekpaw lashed her tail. “The elders used to tell stories about how ShadowClan was feared by the other Clans,” she meowed. “Now we only try to make peace.”

Strikepaw snorted. “We hide behind our borders like kitty pets.”

“It’s true!” Juniperpaw agreed. “Not even WindClan respects us any more. At the last

Gathering, Fernpaw called us a bunch of frog-eaters. In the old day s, apprentices from other Clans didn’t even dare speak to us. Ratscar told us that ThunderClan used to tell nursery stories about how terrify ing we were. I bet their nursery stories aren’t so scary now.”