by Erin Hunter
With a snort of annoyance Yellowkit curled up and wrapped her tail over her nose. Peering over the top of it, she could just make out Rowankit tucked close into their mother’s side, and Nutkit sprawled on the moss, his legs and tail twitching as if he was dreaming about racing through the forest.
I wish StarClan would send me a good dream, Yellowkit thought.
She slept at last, only to wake again with a start. A faint dawn light was filtering through the brambles. Poolcloud was still snoring softly; Brightflower and Rowankit were curled up together. Nutkit was squirming about in the bedding, letting out soft moans of pain.
Yellowkit realized what had woken her; her belly felt heavy, and every couple of heartbeats pain shot through it. I guess Nutkit’s belly is hurting, too. She prodded her brother gently with one paw. “Do you have cramps in your belly?” she whispered.
Nutkit’s eyes blinked open and he peered blearily at his sister. “How do you know?”
“My belly is aching too,” Yellowkit retorted, wincing as another deep cramp coursed through her. She pressed her belly hard against the moss as if she could squash the pain out of it. “We’ve got to tell Brightflower,” she grunted. “She’ll get Sagewhisker.”
“No!” Nutkit’s eyes stretched wide with alarm. “Yellowkit, don’t, please.”
“Why not?” Yellowkit asked. She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “What have you been up to?”
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.
“Yuck!” she gasped, gagging as she tried to swallow.
After a few heartbeats she managed to force the vile stuff down. Almost at once she felt her belly give an enormous heave, and she vomited up several mouthfuls of slime. She passed her tongue over her lips, trying to get rid of the taste.
“That’s good,” Sagewhisker murmured approvingly, as Nutkit too brought up the contents of his belly. “Brightflower, take them back to the nursery. They should sleep now. When they wake they can have some milk, but no food today. I’ll check on them later.”
“Thank you, Sagewhisker.” Brightflower dipped her head to the medicine cat. “And let that be a lesson to you,” she added to her kits. “No more crow-food.”
“But I didn’t eat crow-food!” Yellowkit’s indignation surged up again now that her belly didn’t hurt anymore. It’s not fair! Why won’t any cat believe me?
Brightflower let out a hiss. “No more!” she mewed. “I won’t punish you for lying this time, because you’ve suffered enough, but don’t let it happen again.”
Without waiting for Yellowkit to respond, she grabbed Nutkit by the scruff and headed for the nursery. Yellowkit padded after them, her head down and her tail drooping. Her belly was sore from vomiting, and she could still taste the bitter yarrow, but what made her really miserable was the thought that her mother believed she was a liar.
Yellowkit pushed her way into the op
en, yawning and arching her back in a long stretch. She was bored. Behind her in the nursery, Nutkit was still asleep, half-buried in the moss as if he was exhausted from his disturbed night and his upset belly.
But I feel fine, Yellowkit thought. Except my belly’s growling. Brightflower had just reminded her that Sagewhisker had said she and Nutkit couldn’t have anything to eat until tomorrow. I’ll never last that long! Yellowkit wailed inwardly. I’ll be as weak as a mouse.
Blinking, she gazed around the camp. Hollyflower and Crowtail were sharing tongues outside the warriors’ den, while the elders were gossiping in a patch of warm sun beside the tree stump. Yellowkit caught a scrap of their conversation.
“. . . sent that WindClan warrior squealing all the way back to his camp,” Lizardfang meowed. “We didn’t put up with any nonsense from WindClan in my day, let me tell you.”
“No, and not from ThunderClan either,” Silverflame purred.
Yellowkit’s heart swelled with love for the old she-cat. Maybe if I go over there she’d tell me a story. Then she shook her head. No, more likely I’d have to listen to Lizardfang yakking on about all the WindClan warriors he chased off.
In the middle of the clearing, Rowankit was playing by herself, tossing a ball of moss into the air and catching it on her tiny extended claws. Yellowkit didn’t feel like joining in.
I wish I could go out and explore the territory like Raggedpaw and Scorchpaw.
Flicking her tail and trying not to look as if she was going anywhere special, Yellowkit padded across the camp toward the fresh-kill pile. The sun was shining, and the patches of sky visible through the trees were a clear blue. But there was a chill in the air, and the leaves on the huge oak tree where Cedarstar made his den were beginning to turn yellow. Greenleaf was coming to an end.
Yellowkit felt hungrier than ever when she approached the fresh-kill pile and the enticing scents of vole and squirrel flooded her jaws. She absolutely had to have something to eat if she was going to sneak out of the camp.
One little mouse couldn’t hurt....
“Hey, Yellowkit!”
Yellowkit jumped guiltily. Turning to see who was calling her, she spotted Sagewhisker sunning herself at the entrance to her den.
Uh-oh!
“Nothing until tomorrow,” the medicine cat warned her. “I’m surprised you can even think about eating yet.”
“I’m starving!”
Sagewhisker stifled a purr of amusement. “Would you rather have a bellyache, little kit?”
Yellowkit scuffled her forepaws in the earth of the camp floor. “I guess not.”
“Why don’t you come and help me with a few things?” the medicine cat suggested. “All the apprentices are out, and I need someone to give me a paw sorting my herbs. It might take your mind off your empty belly.”
“Okay.” Yellowkit perked up. She liked the sharp scents of herbs in the medicine cat’s den, and she needed something to stop herself from thinking about food. She followed Sagewhisker back into the den. Beyond the narrow entrance that lay between two boulders, a tiny clearing opened out, edged by thick clumps of fern. At the far side a pool of clear water reflected the pine trees above.
“The herbs are over here.” Sagewhisker padded to one side of the clearing. “I dig holes in the ground to keep them fresh, and cover them up with fern fronds.”
She picked up one of the fronds and laid it aside. Yellowkit peered into the hole beneath; a few withered leaves lay at the bottom.
“That’s marigold,” Sagewhisker meowed. “It’s good for infected wounds, but as you can see, those scraps aren’t much good. Lift them out and pile them up by the entrance. Later on I’ll carry all the rubbish out of the camp.”
While Yellowkit obeyed, Sagewhisker uncovered the next hole; it held only two or three shriveled berries.
“Should I add those to the pile?” Yellowkit asked, dipping her paw into the hole, ready to scoop out the berries.
Sagewhisker shook her head, flicking her tail across to block Yellowkit’s paw. “No, those are juniper berries. I know they’re past their best, but they’re so useful for bellyache and shortness of breath, I won’t dare throw them away until the fresh ones are ready. It won’t be long, thank StarClan.”
Yellowkit nodded, giving the berries an interested sniff. “Silverflame wheezes sometimes,” she remarked. “Do you give her juniper berries?”
“I do.” Sagewhisker dipped her head. “You’re learning fast, Yellowkit.”
Yellowkit felt proud of herself. This is so useful! I’ll know about herbs and everything when I’m a warrior! “What’s in the next hole?” she asked.
“These are daisy leaves,” Sagewhisker replied, uncovering a pile of fresh leaves. “Good for Lizardfang’s aching joints. I only collected them yesterday, so we don’t have to throw them out.”
Yellowkit followed her along the row of holes, while Sagewhisker told her about each different herb and what they were used for, sorting out the withered ones so that Yellowkit could pile them up at the entrance.
“There, finished!” Sagewhisker mewed at last, dusting off her paws. “Well done, Yellowkit. You’ve been a big help.”
“It was fun,” Yellowkit replied, realizing with a start that it was true. I had no idea how much you have to learn to be a medicine cat!
“And your belly feels fine now?”
Yellowkit nodded. “Still empty, though,” she mewed.
Sagewhisker touched Yellowkit’s ear with her nose. “Then you’ll remember to stay away from crow-food in future.”
Yellowkit heaved a deep sigh. “Yes, okay,” she muttered.
There wasn’t any point in arguing. She knew that no cat was going to believe her. But if it wasn’t the crow-food, she asked herself as she padded back to the nursery, what did make my belly ache like Nutkit’s?
CHAPTER 4
Yellowkit’s paw landed squarely on top of the quivering mouse, and it went limp. Her jaws watered as she bent her head to take the first succulent bite, when something slammed into her back. Her eyes flew open, her dream fled away, and she found herself in the nursery. Poolcloud’s kits, Foxkit and Wolfkit, were wrestling together in the moss, rolling over so they were half on top of Yellowkit.
“Get off!” she muttered, giving the nearest kit a shove. I could almost taste that mouse!
Yawning, Yellowkit sat up. Brightflower and Poolcloud were still asleep, but beside her in the mossy nest Nutkit and Rowankit were beginning to stir. There’s something odd about the nursery this morning, Yellowkit thought. The light was different, and there was a clean, cold scent in the air that she had never smelled before.
Curious, Yellowkit scrambled over the moss and stuck her head through the branches. Her jaws gaped and she let out a gasp of astonishment. The camp lay under a thick white covering, and more of the white stuff weighed down the branches of the encircling pine trees.
“Wow!” Yellowkit squeaked. “What happened?”
Nutkit and Rowankit appeared beside her, their eyes round as they gazed out.
“Did WindClan do this to us?” Nutkit growled. “I’ll shred their fur!”
“No.” Brightflower pushed her way out of the nursery, her paws sinking into the white stuff, and turned to look back at her kits. Her eyes were warm with amusement. “This is snow. We get it sometimes in leaf-bare.”
“Where did it come from?” Rowankit asked.
“It falls out of the sky,” Brightflower explained. “Like rain, but snow looks like falling feathers.”
Extending one paw, Yellowkit dabbed at the white stuff. “It’s cold!”
Nutkit let out a yowl of excitement and launched himself into the snow, his weight hardly denting the surface.
“Wait for me!” Yellowkit charged after him, with Rowankit a tail-length behind. She could hear more squealing from the nursery, telling her that Foxkit and Wolfkit were following. “This is fun!”
But as Yellowkit raced across the camp after her littermate, she felt as
if something was holding her back. Rowankit overtook her with an excited squeak. Trying to force her legs to run faster, Yellowkit realized that the snow was clogging up her thick fur, dragging at her and slowing her down. That’s not fair! she thought indignantly.
A moment later her paws skidded out from under her as Foxkit crashed into her. “Got you!” the younger kit squealed. “You’re as slow as a hedgehog, Yellowkit!”
Struggling out from underneath her denmate, Yellowkit looked at the other kit’s smooth ginger pelt. No wonder it was easier for her to run fast in the snow. Taking a breath as she tried to shake the clots of snow from her pelt, she felt her mouth burning in the crisp, dry air. “I’m thirsty,” she announced. “I’m going to get a drink.”
“You just want an excuse to stop running,” Foxkit taunted.
Yellowkit opened her jaws to respond, then decided that arguing with Foxkit wasn’t worth it. Four moons old, and she thinks she knows everything. Glancing around the camp, she spotted the early morning light gleaming on a pool of melted snow just outside the warriors’ den. Silverflame was crouched beside it, lapping steadily. Yellowkit went to join her, but Silverflame didn’t look up. The old cat must have been superthirsty. She always seemed to be drinking these days.
A sharp pain stabbed at Yellowkit’s belly as she started to drink the icy water, and her fur prickled as though a storm was brewing. Yellowkit tilted her head on one side. There had been storms in the heavy days of greenleaf, when gray clouds would cover the sky and the air felt hot and damp, but today the sky was clear and pale, and the rising sun cast blue shadows across the snow-covered camp. A cold, dry breeze ruffled the white surface. No storms today, Yellowkit told herself.
“Hi, Yellowkit.” Silverflame paused in her lapping at last. “Enjoying your first snow?”
Yellowkit turned to reply, and winced at the look of exhaustion and pain in the old she-cat’s eyes. “It’s okay, I guess,” she replied. “Silverflame, are you all right?”
Silverflame shrugged. “It’s just the moons catching up with me,” she mewed. “Don’t worry, Yellowkit.”
