Yellowfang’s Secret

Paw steps sounded behind her, and Yellowpaw spun around, expecting to see another rat. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw it was Poolcloud and Ashheart, each of them carrying a rat.

But they’re not as big as ours! she thought proudly.

The rest of the patrol was gathering. Yellowpaw picked up her rat and went to join them, with Archeye at her side.

“Great StarClan, look at that!” Nutpaw exclaimed, his voice slightly envious. “I didn’t think there could be a rat as big as that.” He and Raggedpelt had caught a rat too, but Yellowpaw noticed that it was quite a lot smaller than hers.

“It’s an amazing catch,” Deerleap agreed; her gaze was warm as it rested on her apprentice. “Are you both okay?”

“Not a scratch on either of us,” Archeye meowed. “And it’s Yellowpaw’s rat, really. I didn’t do much.”

All the cats clustered around Yellowpaw, congratulating her.

“I’d have thought twice about tackling a rat that size,” Stonetooth purred. “You’re showing real warrior skills, Yellowpaw.”

Yellowpaw felt hot with pride and embarrassment. The Clan deputy thinks I did well! “Archeye helped,” she insisted.

Then she noticed that Raggedpelt was hanging back. She felt as though a cloud had passed over the sun. He was the only cat who hadn’t said anything to her; he wasn’t even looking at her.

“What’s going on?” Stonetooth glanced from Yellowpaw to Raggedpelt and back again. “Raggedpelt, it’s ungenerous not to praise Yellowpaw. That’s not how we do things in ShadowClan.”

Raggedpelt looked at his paws. “Yeah, great catch, Yellowpaw,” he muttered.

Stonetooth’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more to Raggedpelt. “It’s time we went back to camp,” he announced. “We’ve caught as much prey as we can carry. Let’s see if we can get there before Cedarstar’s patrol.”

Picking up her rat by its scruff, Yellowpaw set off full of pride, but before she had gone many paw steps she began to wonder if she could make it back to camp. The rat weighed more than any piece of prey she had carried before. Soon she was staggering with fatigue, her neck aching, but the sense of achievement buzzed through her like a whole colony of bees, and kept her going.

When she entered the camp she was aware of comments from the cats who had stayed behind, padding up to look as she and the rest of the patrol dropped their prey on the fresh-kill pile. For the first time she realized that Cedarstar’s patrol had followed them in; the Clan leader examined her rat, then turned to her, his eyes shining with approval.

“Yellowpaw,” he mewed, “you’re turning into an excellent ShadowClan warrior.”

“Th-thank you!” Yellowpaw stammered.

The Clan leader dipped his head to her and padded off to his den. Yellowpaw followed him with her gaze. I can’t believe the Clan leader said that to me!

Then she noticed that Sagewhisker was standing a couple of fox-lengths away. She was looking thoughtful. Yellowpaw wondered what was on her mind, but after a moment the medicine cat turned away without speaking.

Thank StarClan! Yellowpaw thought. She had been avoiding the medicine cat ever since Silverflame died; she still felt that Sagewhisker could have done more to help the sick elder. And the depth of Sagewhisker’s gaze made her feel uncomfortable.

“Yellowpaw!” Her mother’s voice distracted Yellowpaw from thinking about the medicine cat. “Stonetooth says you made a great catch.”

Yellowpaw ducked her head. “That’s my rat,” she mewed, pointing to it with her tail.

Brackenfoot dropped his own prey onto the pile. Yellowpaw noticed that her father’s rat was almost as big as hers, but not quite.

“Keep going like this, and you’ll be the best hunter in ShadowClan,” he praised her, his eyes warm.

Brightflower gave her a lick around the ears. “You’ve made us so proud.”

Yellowpaw gazed from one of her parents to the other, and felt as if her heart would burst with happiness.

“Are we joining a patrol today?” Yellowpaw asked Deerleap.

Two moons had passed since the raid on the Carrionplace, and the air was soft and mild, full of the scents of newleaf. Spikes of fresh green showed at the tips of the pine branches, ferns were uncoiling in the midst of clumps of dead bracken, and birdsong promised prey in the moons to come. Yellowpaw heaved a happy sigh. The forest is so beautiful!

“Not today,” Deerleap replied.

In the last moon she hadn’t been calling Yellowpaw quite so early in the morning; today the rays of the morning sun were already slanting into the camp, driving off the dawn chill. She seems to be slowing down, Yellowpaw thought, realizing with a pang that her mentor was growing old.

“So what are we going to do?” she asked.

“There’s one more task before you can begin your final warrior assessments,” Deerleap told her. “You have to travel to the Moonstone.”