Weedwhisker licked his lips as he swallowed the last of the mouse. “Welcome to the Clan, little ones. I’m sure you’ll be up to trouble in no time. Kits can’t seem to help themselves.”
Bluekit pricked her ears. “Have Leopardkit and Patchkit been in trouble?”
Larksong purred. “I don’t know a kit who hasn’t.”
Relief warmed Bluekit’s belly. She didn’t want to be the only one who got things wrong. Like having a squirrel fall on my head.
“It’s about time Pinestar made those two apprentices,” Mumblefoot croaked. “They have too much time on their paws. Every time I go to the fresh-kill pile, I trip over one of them kicking up dust with some silly game or other.”
“I’ll ask Swiftbreeze if I can take them herb gathering in the forest tomorrow,” Featherwhisker suggested. “That should keep them busy.”
Bluekit’s eyes grew wide. “In the forest?” she echoed.
Featherwhisker nodded. “We won’t go far from camp.”
That must be where Dapplepaw was taking Patchkit and Leopardkit. Bluekit wondered how much more there was beyond the clearing and the dens.
Beside her, Snowkit yawned.
“You’d better be getting them back to their mother,” Larksong advised. “Snowkit looks like she’s going to fall asleep on her paws.”
Bluekit turned to see her sister’s eyes drooping. She suddenly realized that her own legs ached and her belly was rumbling. But she didn’t want to leave; she wanted to learn more. What did Mumblefoot’s tick look like? Where was Goosefeather now?
“Come on.” Featherwhisker began to usher them out of the den.
“How can we learn anything back in the nursery?” Bluekit objected.
“You’ll learn a lot more once you’ve rested,” Larksong meowed.
“Come back and see us soon!” Weedwhisker called.
Bluekit stumbled as they crossed the clearing. Though her mind whirled with questions, her paws were clumsy with fatigue. She felt relieved when Featherwhisker nudged her into the nursery.
“What did you see, little one?” Moonflower asked as Bluekit snuggled down beside her mother with Snowkit.
“Everything,” Bluekit yawned.
Moonflower purred. “Not everything, my darling.” Bluekit closed her eyes as her mother went on softly. “There’s a whole forest for you to explore. And even that is just part of the Clans’ territories. There are lands beyond—Mothermouth, Highstones, and even farther.”
“How far does the world stretch?” Snowkit murmured sleepily.
“Only StarClan knows,” Moonflower replied.
Bluekit imagined trees and bracken and nettles and gorse stretching far beyond the camp into an endless sky. “But my legs aren’t long enough to travel that far,” she protested. As her visions faded into dreams, she heard her mother’s voice continue.
“They’ll grow, my sweet, until one day they’ll be strong enough to walk the whole world.”
Chapter 2
Bluekit watched Snowkit’s tail flick enticingly, and pushed away the urge to leap on it and pin it to the ground. She didn’t dare risk getting her pelt dusty.
“And remember,” Moonflower said, giving Bluekit’s ears another wash, “sit up straight and be polite.”
Bluekit rolled her eyes.
The three of them were waiting at the edge of the clearing.
“It’ll be the first time Stormtail’s seen you since you opened your eyes,” Moonflower reminded them unnecessarily. Bluekit’s belly had been knotted with excitement all morning. She wanted her father to see that she wasn’t a tiny, mewling kit anymore.
Moonflower glanced at the gorse barrier. “He promised he’d be back from hunting by sunhigh.”
Bluekit kept her paws rooted to the ground. It was hard sitting still when the camp was so busy with new smells and sights.
Mumblefoot and Larksong had come out of the elders’ den. Featherwhisker was padding toward them with a ball of moss dangling from his jaws. Bluekit guessed there was something stinky in it, because he was wrinkling his nose as though he were carrying fox dung. Beside the nettle patch, a large tom with a pelt as fiery as the sun was sharing prey with three warriors.
“Is that Sunfall?” Bluekit asked.
“Yes.” Moonflower had begun grooming Snowkit. “And that’s Robinwing, Tawnyspots, and Fuzzypelt with him,” she meowed between licks. “Oh, and Thrushpelt has just come out of the warriors’ den.”
Snowkit fidgeted beneath her mother’s tongue, complaining to Bluekit, “Did she wash you this hard?” But Bluekit hardly heard; she was too busy gazing at the warriors. She wanted to memorize Robinwing’s brown pelt, so she could always pick her out from the others in a battle. Tawnyspots would be harder to make out, she decided, because of his pale gray tabby fur. But his ears had tufts on the tips—she’d remember that. Fuzzypelt would be easy to recognize anywhere; his black fur stuck out like a hedgehog’s bristles. Thrushpelt was sandy gray, like the pebbles she and Snowkit played with in the nursery. He had bright green eyes and a splash of white on his chest that looked like a fluffy cloud. He was much smaller than the others.
“Didn’t Thrushpelt grow properly?” Bluekit mewed to her mother.
Moonflower purred. “No, little one—he’s just the youngest warrior. He received his name only a quarter moon ago. He’ll grow—you’ll see.”
The gorse barrier swished and Bluekit glanced around. Was it Stormtail? Disappointment hit her when Stonepelt padded into the camp with a bird in his jaws. She shuffled her paws, hoping he wouldn’t notice her. She wasn’t sure if he’d forgiven her for crashing into the warriors’ den.
“That was a sneaky move!” Dapplepaw yowled on the other side of the clearing. She rolled away from Whitepaw and leaped to her paws. The two she-cats were practicing battle moves beside the tree stump.
Whitepaw shook out her fur. “Not sneaky! Pure skill!” She stared at her denmate crossly, her cloudy eye glinting in the sunshine. Bluekit knew she couldn’t see out of that eye, but she could hear so well that it was impossible to creep up on her. Bluekit and Snowkit had tried several times.
“Lucky hit!” Dapplepaw retorted. “Patchkit could do better!”
Where was Patchkit?
Bluekit scanned the clearing. There! Leopardkit and Patchkit were crouching outside the warriors’ den, glancing at each other as if they were planning something. What were they up to?
“I’m clean enough!”
Bluekit’s attention snapped back to her sister as Snowkit ducked away from their mother’s tongue.
Moonflower sat back. “You look lovely.”
Snowkit snorted and ruffled the wet fur around her ears with her paw. Bluekit puffed out her chest and lined her paws smartly in front of her. Please let Stormtail be proud of me! Moonflower had told them over and over what a great warrior their father was, how he was brave and good at fighting and one of the best hunters in ThunderClan. I hope I grow up to be like him.
“Why couldn’t Stormtail come to the nursery to see us?” Snowkit whined. “Adderfang’s always coming to the nursery to see Patchkit and Leopardkit. He brought them a mouse last time.”
“Your father came to see you as soon as you were born.” Moonflower hooked her paw around Snowkit’s waving tail and wrapped it neatly over her paws. “He’s a very important warrior. He doesn’t have time to bring you treats.” She stepped back and looked her kits over once more. “Besides, you’re not big enough to eat mice yet.”
Bluekit scrunched up her eyes as she glanced at the sun. It was almost directly overhead. Stormtail would be there soon. She twisted to see the gorse barrier. She knew the warrior patrol would come through the gap in the middle. Patchkit had been telling her about Clan life—about hunting patrols and border patrols. He had explained how a warrior hunts first for the Clan and only then for himself.