Yellowfang’s Secret

Chapter 14

Yellowfang poked her head out of the warriors’ den to see the clearing covered with a thick pelt of snow. The branches of the surrounding trees were heavy with it, and a few white flakes were still drifting down.

“It’s too early in the season to be this cold,” she muttered to herself.

Shivering, she waded through the powdery snow toward the fresh-kill pile, where Stonetooth was organizing the day’s patrols. The older warriors gathered around him were exchanging troubled glances, and meowing to one another in low voices.

Before Yellowfang could join them, she was intercepted by Sagewhisker, who was heading toward the nursery with a few leaves of tansy in her jaws. “These are for Cloudkit,” she informed Yellowfang, mumbling around the mouthful of herbs. “He’s coughing a little.”

Why tell me? “Okay,” Yellowfang mewed. “I’m sure you’ll fix him, Sagewhisker.”

The medicine cat blinked at her, making Yellowfang even more uncomfortable. But all Sagewhisker said was, “Yes, the tansy should soon clear up his cough. And Nettlespot is improving since you took her the herbs the other day.”

Yellowfang ducked her head. “Fine,” she meowed. “Er… gotta go, Sagewhisker. Patrols.” She headed off rapidly, aware of the medicine cat’s gaze following her.

“There you are, Yellowfang,” Stonetooth greeted her as she joined the group of warriors. “Crowtail’s leading a border patrol. You can join him with Hollyflower and Newtspeck.”

“Sure,” Yellowfang responded, brightening up with the prospect of getting out of camp.

“Let’s go.” Crowtail waved her tail and led the way through the thorn tunnel.

Emerging into the forest, Yellowfang could hardly believe how different it looked under the covering of snow. All the humps and hollows in the ground had been smoothed out, and the surface of the snow was crisscrossed by tracks. The shadows had a bluish tinge, and every slight sound—the creak of a branch, the flutter of wings in a tree—seemed magnified in the still air.

“There’s so much white stuff!” Yellowfang murmured to Hollyflower.

Her Clanmate nodded. “It’s been a long time since the last snowfall. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like.”

I was a new apprentice then, Yellowfang thought. So much has happened since!

Every so often snow would shower down from one of the trees; Yellowfang suppressed a mrrow of laughter as Newtspeck had to skip aside to avoid being drenched. Playfully Yellowfang flicked a pawful of snow at Hollyflower; the older she-cat jumped and spun around, her jaws gaping with shock.

“I’m going to get you, Yellowfang!”

Hollyflower scooped up more snow and flung it at Yellowfang. It landed right in her face; she shook her head to get rid of it, spraying snow in all directions.

“Watch out! Snow coming!” she yowled, scuffling up more of the white stuff to throw at Hollyflower.

Crowtail, who had drawn a few paces ahead, halted and glanced back over her shoulder. “Honestly, are you kits?” she demanded. “Grow up. This is a border patrol, or had you forgotten?”

“Sorry, Crowtail,” Hollyflower meowed, dipping her head and looking embarrassed.

“Sorry,” Yellowfang echoed, though she tossed another pawful of snow at Hollyflower’s retreating tail before following.

By the time they reached the Thunderpath, Yellowfang was becoming tired of wading through the snow and getting clots of it tangled in her belly fur. She envied her Clanmates’ sleeker fur and longer legs, which kept their stomachs free.

Crowtail stopped by the two narrow tunnels that burrowed underneath the Thunderpath. “We need to make sure no cats are using these to trespass on ShadowClan’s territory,” she mewed. “With prey so scarce, there’s no telling what the other Clans might be up to.”

“Just let them try!” Yellowfang growled, sliding out her claws.

But when they examined the tunnels and the territory around them, there was no trace of enemy scent.

“Pity.” Newtspeck’s lip curled in the beginning of a snarl. “A good scrap with a ThunderClan patrol would warm me up!”

The patrol continued along the Thunderpath, then veered away to skirt the edge of the Twolegplace. As they drew closer to the walls and fences, Yellowfang grew more alert, watching out for kittypets who might recognize her.

Hollyflower ran lightly across the snow and leaped up onto the nearest Twoleg fence. “Look at this!” she called Yellowfang.

Yellowfang glanced back to where Crowtail and Newtspeck were investigating something at the bottom of a tree. Then she bounded up and joined Hollyflower on the fence.

“What do you suppose that is?” Hollyflower asked, pointing with her tail at a humped shape of snow in the Twoleg garden.

Yellowfang shrugged, more concerned with checking the garden for kittypets. “Who knows?”

“It looks a bit like a Twoleg,” Hollyflower went on, sounding puzzled.

Yellowfang gave the shape a closer scrutiny. “It doesn’t have legs,” she pointed out.

“It’s got a head and a body,” Hollyflower countered. “And a Twoleg pelt on its head.”

“It’s a Noleg, then,” Yellowfang mewed impatiently. Honestly, who cares about weird Twoleg stuff?

“I wonder what it’s like, being a kittypet,” Hollyflower went on after a pause. “Do you suppose they can speak Twoleg? Do you think they go up and say, ‘Hey, it’s time for fresh-kill! I would love to have a vole today, and make sure it’s plump’?”

“I doubt it,” Yellowfang returned dryly. “Do you ever see Twolegs chasing voles in the forest?”

“I guess not. Kittypets don’t have to catch their own prey, though. I think that’s really sad.” Hollyflower let out a sigh. “Never knowing what it’s like to stalk a squirrel…”

Remembering the kittypets she and Raggedpelt had met that night, Yellowfang was pretty sure that some of them would be able to catch their own prey. But she wasn’t about to say that to Hollyflower.

“What do they do all day?” the gray-and-white she-cat went on. “They don’t hunt, they don’t train to fight, they must find it really hard to have a mate if they’re shut up in a Twoleg nest all day. They hardly seem like real cats at all.”

“Russetpaw and Boulder are real cats,” Yellowfang pointed out.

“Yeah, but they’re Clan now,” Hollyflower asserted with a flick of her ears. “I’d be surprised if they even remember living over here. At any rate,” she finished with satisfaction in her tone, “kittypets don’t matter. As long as they stay out of our territory.”

Noticing that Crowtail and Newtspeck were padding up to the fence, Yellowfang leaped down to meet them, pleased to put an end to the awkward conversation with Hollyflower. As she landed, she spotted a hole at the base of the fence, where one of the strips of wood had rotted away. There was plenty of room for a cat to slip through. Instinctively she sniffed, and froze as she picked up the scent of kittypet.

Fresh… she thought. One or two cats have been through here—and not long ago, either. There was a mess of tracks around the hole, but the traces were too confused to tell Yellowfang anything useful. She wasn’t sure whether she ought to tell the others. It will only cause trouble… but then, we’re a border patrol. This is the sort of thing we’re looking for.

Before she could make up her mind, she noticed that Newtspeck had picked up the scent too, raising her head with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “Kittypets!” she hissed.

Her neck fur bristling, she began searching along the base of the fence, trying to find the scent trail. Crowtail helped her, while Yellowfang stood still, flexing her claws, and Hollyflower watched intently from the top of the fence.

“It’s no good,” Crowtail snarled eventually. “This StarClan-cursed snow is blotting out the scent.”

“But kittypets have definitely been on this side of the fence,” Newtspeck meowed, her neck fur still fluffed up and her tail lashing. “Trespassing on our territory again. This has to stop!” She crouched, bunched her muscles, and leaped up to the top of the fence beside Hollyflower, where she let out a challenging yowl. “Stay out of our territory, kittypets!”

Yellowfang’s paws tingled with frustration. Why does Newtspeck have to go looking for a fight? Why can’t we just leave one another alone? She wasn’t sure why she was so desperate not to encounter the Twolegplace cats, but she felt cold fear deep inside her, as agonizing as Nettlespot’s hunger. We mustn’t fight!

Newtspeck launched herself off the fence and vanished on the other side into the Twoleg garden. Yellowfang heard a hiss of pain from her, and in the same heartbeat felt a sharp stab in her shoulder.

“Newtspeck, what happened?” she called.

“Nothing!” the black-and-ginger she-cat called back. “I’m fine!”

Yellowfang knew that wasn’t true. My shoulder feels like it’s on fire! “We have to make them come back,” she meowed to Hollyflower. “There’s no point in looking for trouble.”

Hollyflower looked doubtful. “We need to teach those kittypets a lesson about invading our territory,” she insisted.

Reluctantly Yellowfang scrambled back onto the fence and looked down at Newtspeck. The she-cat was holding one foreleg stiffly, but she said nothing; only the waves of pain flooding over Yellowfang told her that her Clanmate was badly hurt. Crowtail leaped up beside her and dropped down to join Newtspeck in the snow. Her ears twitched and her tail lashed as she gazed around.

“Come out if you dare!” she called. “We’ll teach you to trespass on our territory!”

A soft growl broke the silence that followed Crowtail’s challenge. Balancing awkwardly on the fence-top, Yellowfang turned to see a huge orange tom appearing around the side of the Twoleg den.

That’s Marmalade! she realized, her belly lurching. All her instincts told her to leap down from the fence before he recognized her, but she knew she couldn’t abandon her Clanmates, especially when one of them was injured.

Marmalade looked up at Yellowfang with baleful yellow eyes. “What are you doing here again?” he demanded.

“What does he mean, ‘again’?” Crowtail’s voice was sharp. “Do you know a kittypet?”

Yellowfang didn’t know how to reply. “Uh… sort of,” she admitted. “It’s not important. We’re just leaving,” she assured the ginger tom.

“No, we’re not,” Newtspeck hissed through her pain, fixing Marmalade with a fierce glare. “We’re here to tell you to stay out of our territory.”

Marmalade snorted. “I don’t understand you wild cats and your so-called territories,” he sneered. “We’re far freer on this side of the fence, because we can go wherever we want.”

Kittypets are free? Yellowfang had never thought of that before. To her dismay, Hollyflower dropped down from the fence to join Newtspeck and Crowtail.

Now she’s joining in, Yellowfang thought helplessly. I just want to get out of here!

“What do kittypets know about freedom?” Hollyflower hissed. “You don’t even catch your own food. Try asking Russetpaw and Boulder where they want to live, and see if they think kittypets are free!”

“Russetpaw? Who’s that?” Marmalade asked.

“You knew her as Red,” Hollyflower replied.

Marmalade stiffened, his gaze fixed on Hollyflower. “You know where Red and Boulder are?”

“They’re part of ShadowClan now.” Crowtail’s voice was full of triumph. “You won’t be seeing them again.”

Yellowfang braced her muscles to jump down and help her Clanmates if Marmalade attacked.

But the ginger tom just narrowed his eyes. “I see,” he mewed evenly. “Well, I’ll let you go back to your territory now.”

“You’re not letting us do anything!” Hollyflower retorted, sliding out her claws.

“Stop this!” Yellowfang called desperately from the fence-top. “He’s just a fat old kittypet. He’s not worth fighting. Leave him alone and get out of there.” She tried hard not to flinch as Marmalade turned his gaze onto her. She could almost hear his thoughts: Fat old kittypet, huh? Come down here and say that!

“We’ve shown our strength,” Yellowfang persisted. “Now we need to get Newtspeck back to the camp.”

“I’m fine!” Newtspeck protested.

“No, you’re not,” Yellowfang hissed through the stabbing sensation in her shoulder. “Hollyflower, Crowtail, help her over the fence.”

“I don’t need any help.” Newtspeck gave a single lash of her tail and leaped up the fence. Her paws scrabbled at the top and she fell down the other side, collapsing on the ground with a screech.

“You stupid, stupid furball!” Yellowfang snapped. She could understand that Newtspeck didn’t want to show weakness in front of Marmalade, but the flaring agony in her shoulder told her that the she-cat had made her injury worse.

Newtspeck struggled to get to her paws but she couldn’t put weight on her leg at all, and she slipped back onto her side in the snow. “Mouse dung!” she gasped.

Crowtail and Hollyflower exchanged shocked glances; clearly they hadn’t known that Newtspeck was so seriously hurt.

“Come on.” Yellowfang worked her shoulder underneath Newtspeck, and with her help the injured she-cat managed to stand. “Let’s get you home.”

Hollyflower supported her on the other side, and they began struggling back to camp, with Crowtail keeping a lookout behind in case any kittypets tried to follow them. By the time they reached the entrance, Newtspeck was barely conscious, staggering along on three paws and leaning her weight on Yellowfang and Hollyflower.

“Let’s get her to Sagewhisker,” Yellowfang panted; she was almost as exhausted as Newtspeck through the pain they shared.

As they approached the medicine cat’s den, Hollyflower and Crowtail went to report to Stonetooth. Newtspeck collapsed on the moss, her injured leg stretched out.

“What happened?” Sagewhisker asked, bending over to examine her.

“She wrenched her shoulder jumping over a Twoleg fence,” Yellowfang replied. Anger still pulsed through her along with the hurt. “And then the mouse-brain had to make it worse by jumping out again.”

“I couldn’t let you haul me out,” Newtspeck murmured through clenched teeth. “Not with that kittypet watching.”

“There was no need to go in there in the first place,” Yellowfang pointed out.

“It’s a bad sprain,” Sagewhisker commented, giving the injured leg a sniff. “Yellowfang, fetch me some elder leaves. And give them a good chew,” she added, as Yellowfang padded off to the hole where the herbs were kept.

The clean tang of the elder leaves that filled her mouth made Yellowfang feel calmer, and the hurt began to ebb as Sagewhisker plastered the poultice onto Newtspeck’s leg.

“Poppy seeds, Yellowfang,” Sagewhisker murmured as she applied the chewed-up leaves. “Newtspeck, you’d better sleep here for now. You can go back to your den when you’ve had a rest.”

“Thanks, Sagewhisker,” Newtspeck murmured.

Once her Clanmate was licking up the poppy seeds, Yellowfang slipped out of the den. Raggedpelt was pacing up and down outside. He whipped around to face her as she emerged.

“I heard you saw a kittypet today,” he meowed. “Did it recognize you?”

Yellowfang blinked. “Yes. It was Marmalade,” she admitted. “But he didn’t say anything about… you know, Hal. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Raggedpelt obviously didn’t agree; his neck fur was bristling and he slid his claws in and out. “I am not a kittypet! This is where I belong!” he hissed as he spun around.

“Hey, wait!” Yellowfang bounded after him. “It’s okay. Calm down. Nothing happened.”

Raggedpelt flicked his tail as if he were brushing away her words. “Leave me alone, can’t you?” he growled, picking up his pace until he was racing across the camp to vanish into the thorns.

Yellowfang heaved a deep sigh as she stared after him.

“Had a fight with your mate?” Rowanberry bounced up to her, a mischievous look in her eyes.

Yellowfang bit back a snarl. “He’s not my mate!” she snapped. “We’re just friends.”

Rowanberry rolled her eyes. “There’s no need to pretend,” she meowed. “The whole Clan knows there’s something going on between you and Raggedpelt. I think he’s kind of cranky, but I guess he’s handsome…”

Yellowfang had no time for her sister’s nonsense. Without replying, she turned her back on Rowanberry and stalked away.

Twilight was gathering in the clearing as Yellowfang returned at the head of a hunting patrol. She dropped her squirrel on the fresh-kill pile and glanced around. The camp was quiet; most of her Clanmates, she guessed, were already settling down to sleep.

Archeye, Rowanberry, and Mousewing, the other members of her patrol, deposited their prey and headed for the warriors’ den. Feeling thirsty, Yellowfang padded toward the stream at the edge of the camp, her paws crunching on the snow. The stream was barely a trickle in the ice, and the water was so cold that when she lapped, her tongue felt as though it were burning.

As Yellowfang raised her head and shook droplets from her whiskers, she heard the sound of a cat moving clumsily over twigs. Her ears pricked.

What’s that? Apprentices slinking out? Or an elder having trouble walking?

Yellowfang glanced around the edge of the camp, peering through the trees as she tried to work out where the sound was coming from. But before she could locate it, a yowl split the silent night air. Several cats exploded out of the shadows; the thorns and brambles that surrounded the camp crackled as they burst in.

Scorchwind and Amberleaf, on guard by the tunnel entrance, leaped to their paws. “Intruders!” Scorchwind shrieked.

For a heartbeat Yellowfang stood frozen. Then she recognized the muscular ginger tom who led the intruding cats.

It’s Marmalade! Great StarClan, these are the Twolegplace cats!