Yellowfang’s Secret

Yellowkit nodded. “Four whole moons.” Raggedkit and Scorchkit look so grown-up, she thought. I can’t believe I’ll ever be an apprentice.

Cedarstar looked down at the two older kits. “Cats of ShadowClan,” he began. “Today we are gathered for—”

Yellowkit squirmed, trying to get comfortable. Her hind paw was tingling as if she’d stepped on a thorn. She twisted around, lifting her pad in an attempt to see it.

Cedarstar broke off, looking down at her.

“Yellowkit!” Brightflower hissed. “Stop wriggling!”

“I’ve got a thorn in my paw!” Yellowkit wailed.

“Keep still, then. Let me look.” Brightflower peered at Yellowkit’s paw, then gave it a brief sniff. “There’s nothing there,” she snapped. “Stop fussing and listen to Cedarstar.”

Yellowkit realized that all of her Clanmates were staring at her. She wished that she could sink into the earth floor of the camp and disappear. “Sorry,” she muttered, hanging her head. Her paw was still painful, but she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it.

“Cats of ShadowClan,” Cedarstar began again, “we are here for one of the most important ceremonies in the life of any Clan, the making of new apprentices. Raggedkit and Scorchkit have reached their sixth moon, and it is time for them to begin their training.”

A murmur of appreciation came from the surrounding cats, though Yellowkit heard a quiet comment from Toadskip, who was sitting nearby. “Training half kittypets!” he murmured into Archeye’s ear. “We’ll be making hedgehogs into apprentices next.”

Yellowkit started to bristle, but Raggedkit and Scorchkit hadn’t overheard their Clanmate’s unkind words. The two kits stood with their heads and tails erect and their whiskers quivering; Yellowkit thought they looked as if they would burst with pride.

“Raggedkit, come forward.” Cedarstar beckoned to the dark tabby tom with his tail. “Brackenfoot,” he went on, “you are ready for another apprentice, and you will be mentor to Raggedpaw. I trust you will pass on to him your warrior skills and your loyalty to your Clan.”

My father is going to be Raggedpaw’s mentor! A tingle of jealousy shot through Yellowkit. Now Brackenfoot will spend more time with Raggedpaw than he does with us.

Brackenfoot dipped his head. “You can trust me, Cedarstar,” he meowed.

Raggedpaw trotted toward him, and Brackenfoot stepped forward to touch noses with his new apprentice.

As they withdrew into the circle of watching cats, Cedarstar called Scorchkit forward. “Crowtail, Scorchpaw will be your first apprentice,” the Clan leader meowed. “You have proven yourself as a warrior and I know you will pass on all that you have learned to him.”

Her eyes shining, the small black she-cat padded to the Clanrock and gazed up at her leader. “I’ll do my best, Cedarstar,” she responded.

Scorchpaw bounded over to her, and the two cats touched noses.

“Raggedpaw! Scorchpaw!” Every cat in the Clan yowled the new names and pressed forward to congratulate the two new apprentices. But Yellowkit and her littermates hung back.

“They’re not so great,” Nutkit muttered. “Wait till we’re apprentices. We’ll show them!”

Now that the meeting was over, Yellowkit flopped down on one side and brought her hind leg forward so that she could take a good look at her paw. Pain was still throbbing through it. But however much she probed between her pads, she couldn’t find the thorn. Sitting up, she saw that Brackenfoot and Crowtail were leading their new apprentices through the gap in the brambles that circled the camp.

They’re going to see the territory, Yellowkit thought enviously. I wish I could go with them. But right now she could hardly put her hind paw to the ground. Maybe I should go see Sagewhisker.

But as Yellowkit made her way toward the medicine cat’s den, hopping awkwardly on three legs, she saw a patrol emerging from the tunnel into the camp. Mudclaw was in the lead with Mousewing; both were carrying mice. Nettlespot followed, dragging along a squirrel nearly as big as she was. Deerleap, one of the most senior warriors, had caught a blackbird. Last of all came the young pale brown warrior Lizardstripe, limping as if her hind paw was hurting her too.

“Better see Sagewhisker about that thorn,” Mudclaw mumbled around his mouthful of prey. “Your paw might get infected if it’s not seen to.”

“I’m on my way.” Lizardstripe sounded irritated. “This is the last time I go chasing mice underneath a thornbush.” She limped past Yellowkit and vanished between the rocks into the medicine cat’s den.

Yellowkit waited patiently until Lizardstripe emerged again, this time walking almost normally. “Thanks, Sagewhisker,” the warrior called over her shoulder.