Yellowfang’s Secret

“Okay,” Deerleap meowed to Yellowpaw when the noise had died down and the cats were beginning to drift away. “Why don’t we go out for our tour of the territory before it gets dark?”

“Great!” Every hair on Yellowpaw’s pelt bristled with excitement. “Let’s go!”

But as she followed Deerleap across the camp toward the brambles where Nutpaw and Rowanpaw were already vanishing with their mentors, she staggered as a sharp pain shot through her belly. She couldn’t suppress a yelp.

Deerleap turned around. “What’s the matter?”

Yellowpaw could hardly stay on her paws. The pain filled her body, darkening her vision. She had never felt anything so bad.

“Pain… it hurts…” she managed to gasp.

“You’d better see Sagewhisker,” Deerleap meowed.

“But… I want to see the… the territory,” Yellowpaw protested.

“The territory won’t go away.” Deerleap’s voice was determined. She laid her tail across her apprentice’s shoulders. “Come along.”

As she stumbled across the camp, Yellowpaw fought against her disappointment. I want to start training now. I don’t have time to be sick.

But when she reached the medicine cat’s den, there was no sign of her.

“You looking for Sagewhisker?” Toadskip was on his way to the fresh-kill pile. “I saw her go into the elders’ den.”

“Thanks, Toadskip.” Deerleap led the way toward the tree stump.

When they approached the den, Yellowpaw heard drawn-out moans, as if a cat was in agony. Yellowpaw’s pain had ebbed a little, but her fur felt strange and began prickling, harder and harder with every paw step she took. She was scared of what she might find in the elders’ den, and could hardly force herself to go in.

When she ducked underneath the outer branches of the den, she saw Silverflame stretched in her nest, her body twisted and her eyes glazed with pain. Sagewhisker was crouching over her, while Lizardfang and Littlebird huddled together at the far side, their faces full of fear and pity. The floor was strewn with different herbs, their sharp scents mingling with another sweetish smell that made Yellowpaw gag.

Silverflame is really sick!

“Yes—what is it?” Sagewhisker snapped, not shifting her gaze from the old she-cat.

“I had a pain… but it’s nothing,” Yellowpaw stammered.

“Okay.” Sagewhisker paused to chew up a mouthful of leaves. “See me tomorrow if it doesn’t clear up.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Unable to bear watching Silverflame any longer, Yellowpaw backed out of the den.

“Are you feeling okay now?” Deerleap asked, a tinge of impatience in her voice. “Because if you are, we can set off.”

Yellowpaw nodded, trying to ignore the nagging pain in her stomach; when she breathed in the scent of the herbs it had faded to a tolerable ache. “I’m fine,” she insisted.

Deerleap led the way through the brambles. Excitement surged over Yellowpaw as she followed, almost driving out her anxiety about Silverflame. Heartbeats later, she stood outside the camp for the first time. Pine trees stretched into the distance on every side.

“Wow!” she breathed. “The forest goes on forever!”

“Not quite,” Deerleap responded, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Come on. We’ll go this way.”

The ground between the trees was flat and almost clear of undergrowth. Yellowpaw spotted tracks crisscrossing it: the spiky claw marks of birds, cat paw prints from an earlier patrol, and larger prints, tipped with claws, that she had never seen before. She paused to sniff at them and picked up a trace of a rank smell that felt faintly threatening.

Deerleap had halted and was looking back. “Come on, Yellowpaw.”

“What’s this?” Yellowpaw mewed.

Deerleap gave the tracks a swift glance. “Fox,” she stated.

Yellowpaw shivered and glanced around, half expecting to spot a slim russet shape slinking among the trees. She had never seen a fox, but she had heard plenty of stories about them.

“It’s okay,” Deerleap told her. “That scent is stale. But we need to keep a lookout whenever we’re outside the camp.”

Yellowpaw flexed her claws, wondering what it would be like to fight a fox. Movement among the trees caught her eye, but no fox appeared. Instead, it was a ShadowClan hunting patrol. Cedarstar was leading the way back to camp, with Archeye and Featherstorm, all of them carrying prey. Deerleap called a greeting, and the Clan leader waved his tail in acknowledgment.

A short while later the pine trees thinned out, replaced by bushes mounded with snow and reeds whose feathery tops rattled together in the breeze. The flat ground became uneven, with hidden hollows filled with snow. Yellowpaw let out a squeak as she slid down a dip and sank deep into the powdery white stuff. Deerleap is going to think I’m a stupid kit!

But Deerleap just waited until Yellowpaw struggled out, and didn’t make any comment. “When the weather is warmer, the ground here is marshy and wet,” she meowed. “It’s a good place for catching frogs.”