Yellowfang’s Secret

Before Nutkit could reply, Brightflower raised her head, twitching her whiskers in annoyance. “Will you kits settle down?” she began. “This isn’t the time for playing. You—” She broke off and her gaze grew more intent, swiveling from Nutkit to Yellowkit and back again. “What’s the matter?”

“Our bellies are hurting,” Yellowkit replied, her words ending with a low wail as another wave of pain surged over her. “Please get Sagewhisker.”

Before she had finished speaking, Brightflower had risen to her paws, careful not to disturb the sleeping Rowankit, and padded across the moss to give each of her kits a careful sniff. “Have you been eating something you shouldn’t?” she asked. “Tell me quickly, now. Sagewhisker will need to know.”

“No, I—” Another gasp of pain interrupted Nutkit. “All right,” he went on when he could speak again. “I found a dead sparrow among the brambles yesterday. I only tasted it to see what it was like…”

“Nutkit!” Brightflower let out a sigh of exasperation. “You know what I’ve told you about eating crow-food. You too, Yellowkit. How could you be so stupid?”

“But I didn’t!” Yellowkit protested.

Her mother gazed at her sternly. “Eating crow-food is bad, and lying about it is even worse,” she meowed.

Hot indignation surged through Yellowkit, almost driving out the pain in her belly. “I’m not lying!” she insisted. “I never even saw the stupid sparrow! Tell her, Nutkit.”

“I didn’t see Yellowkit there, but…” Nutkit’s words ended in a groan.

“And how do you suppose you got a bellyache if you didn’t eat it?” Brightflower twitched her tail-tip angrily. “I’m very disappointed in both of you, especially you, Yellowkit. Now come outside so you don’t disturb Rowankit and Poolcloud. I’ll go get Sagewhisker.”

Yellowkit didn’t argue any more as she scrambled out of the moss and pine needles. Still simmering with indignation, she clambered up the side of the hollow and wriggled under the branches of the thornbush. The sky above the pine trees was pale with the approach of dawn. Just inside the entrance to the camp, Mousewing was on guard, his black pelt barely visible against the brambles. He yawned and stretched, not noticing Brightflower as she bounded across the clearing to the medicine cat’s den.

Wincing from the pain in her belly, Yellowkit flopped down beside her brother and waited for her mother to reemerge from the den with Sagewhisker.

“You’d better tell Brightflower the truth about eating that sparrow,” Nutkit murmured. “You’re only making it worse for yourself.”

“For the last time, I did not eat any dodgy sparrow,” Yellowkit snapped. “I’ve got more sense!”

Nutkit gave her a disbelieving look, but said nothing more. A moment later Sagewhisker emerged from her den and trotted across to the nursery, followed closely by Brightflower.

“Kits!” the medicine cat exclaimed, dropping a bundle of leaves as she halted in front of Yellowkit and Nutkit. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Have you no sense?”

“What are you going to give us?” Yellowkit whimpered, sniffing at the leaves as another spasm cramped her belly. “Are you going to make us sick to get the bad stuff out of us?”

Sagewhisker gazed at her intently. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” the medicine cat meowed. “And this is the herb we need for it: yarrow.” Bending her head, she gave Nutkit and then Yellowkit a long sniff. “Brightflower tells me you’ve been eating crow-food,” she continued.

Nutkit let out a moan of pain. “It was only a mouthful… two, maybe.”

Sagewhisker sighed. “Or three, or four. Now you know why we teach kits not to do that.”

“Will they be okay?” Brightflower fretted, giving Nutkit’s ears a comforting lick.

“They’ll be fine,” Sagewhisker assured her. “Right, kits, I want you to eat this yarrow. It will make you sick and then your belly will feel a whole lot better.”

Nutkit gave the herbs a suspicious glare. “Are they yucky?”

The medicine cat nodded. “They are pretty yucky,” she admitted. “But would you rather have a yucky taste, or the bellyache?”

“I’ll eat them… I guess,” Nutkit responded.

“Not here, please,” Brightflower mewed. “We don’t want a mess right outside the nursery.”

In spite of Nutkit’s feeble protests, she picked him up by the scruff and carried him toward the edge of the camp. Sagewhisker padded alongside, carrying the yarrow, while Yellowkit followed, staggering a little as pain roiled through her insides.

By now, the dawn light had strengthened; several warriors had emerged from their den, and Stonetooth, the Clan deputy, was organizing the dawn patrols. Yellowkit felt a pang of envy as she spotted Raggedpaw and Scorchpaw with their mentors. She quickened her pace, stumbling a little, hoping the apprentices wouldn’t spot her and ask what was happening.

In the shelter of the thorns at the edge of the clearing, Sagewhisker laid a few yarrow leaves in front of Nutkit, and the rest of the bundle in front of Yellowkit. While Nutkit was still hesitating, Yellowkit lapped up the leaves, wincing as the bitter juices filled her mouth.