Brindlekit and Frostkit had slid out of the nursery to watch the young tom. Frostkit’s eyes were huge and round with admiration.
“Very good!” Adderfang called from beside the nettle patch.
Stormtail nodded. “I couldn’t do better.”
Bluefur narrowed her eyes. The strength in the young tom’s shoulders was impressive and his claws seemed to have outgrown the rest of him. They’d left scars in the earth so deep it made her shiver.
Only Goosefeather didn’t look up to admire Tigerpaw. He hunched tighter over his fresh-kill. “I’m sorry, StarClan,” he muttered. “That cat should not have survived. This was never meant to happen.”
Startled, Bluefur looked around. None of the other cats seemed to have heard him. Only her. Does Goosefeather believe that Tigerpaw should have died?
Chapter 32
“Look!” Whitekit trotted across the clearing and tossed a moss ball at Frostkit. “I found another one.”
Frostkit crouched, ready to pounce, but Brindlekit scooted past her and pawed the ball away. Spottedkit, Redkit, and Willowkit sat like three baby owls outside the nursery, their eyes fixed on the moss as the older kits tossed it back and forth.
Bluefur purred as it rolled to her paws. She hooked it up and held it high, making the kits jump for it.
Robinwing and Swiftbreeze lay dozing in the pale leaf-bare sun. Robinwing opened one eye. “Thanks for keeping them busy, Bluefur.”
“I enjoy it!” She tossed the moss ball into the air and watched the kits scramble for it.
It was easier to play with Whitekit now that Thistleclaw was out with Tigerpaw so much. He was working his apprentice hard, waking him before dawn and drilling him in the sandy hollow any time they weren’t patrolling or hunting. Tigerpaw had grown so quickly that he looked like a warrior after only a moon of training. Bluefur just wished he didn’t have to show off his battle skills in the camp quite so much.
“Teach me a battle move!” Whitekit begged her daily.
“You’re not old enough,” she would tell him. She was going to make sure he made it to warrior without any serious injuries. She owed it to him and to Snowfur.
“Throw it again! Throw it again!” Frostkit came bouncing back, the moss ball jiggling from her jaws. She dropped it at Bluefur’s paws and looked up pleadingly. “Please.”
Bluefur scooped it up and dangled it from a claw, her whiskers twitching as she watched the kits stare intently at the jerking clump of moss. Then she tossed it to the other side of the clearing and the kits hared away, kicking up dust.
“Bluefur?” Sunstar was padding toward her. “I want you to find Thistleclaw and Tigerpaw in the sandy hollow.” He glanced at the sun, rising high into the milky blue sky.
Bluefur cocked her head. “Why?”
Sunstar looked solemn. “I’ve been getting reports of kittypets crossing the border, and I want you to go with them to investigate.”
Bluefur knew exactly who’d made the reports. Thistleclaw had been spoiling for a fight with a kittypet for moons. Even more so since he’d become Tigerpaw’s mentor, as if he wanted to make sure Tigerpaw understood that kittypets were their enemies. Was he concerned that the young tom would follow in his father’s paw steps?
Bluefur dipped her head to the ThunderClan leader and headed toward the camp entrance.
Whitekit pounded after her. “Where are you going?”
“Just to check the border,” she explained.
“Is RiverClan invading again? Or ShadowClan?” Whitekit reared onto his hind legs and swiped at the air. Bluefur wondered whether he had learned that battle move from Tigerpaw.
“Just some kittypets sniffing around.”
“Are you going to shred them to pieces?”
“They’re just kittypets,” Bluefur told him. “A hiss should be enough to send them running.”
Whitekit sighed. “I wish I could come with you.”
“Another few moons and you will,” Bluefur promised. “Now run back and play with your denmates so Robinwing and Swiftbreeze can rest.”
Whitekit charged away, and Bluefur headed for the training hollow.
“Now lunge at me,” Thistleclaw commanded.
Bluefur could see the pair through the bushes just ahead of her.
Baring his teeth, Tigerpaw rushed at Thistleclaw, slamming into his flank. Thistleclaw turned and flung his apprentice away with a hefty blow that left Tigerpaw staggering.
“Mouse-brain!” Thistleclaw growled. “You should have seen that coming.”
Tigerpaw shook his head, looking dazed. “Let me try it again,” he begged.
Bluefur hurried forward to interrupt. She couldn’t watch such brutal training. She was sure Leopardfoot had no idea that Tigerpaw’s mentor was so rough with her kit. Should she warn the ThunderClan leader what was going on?
She shivered, thankful that Thistleclaw wouldn’t be able to train Whitekit.
“Thistleclaw!” she called before Tigerpaw could take another lunge at his mentor.
Both cats swung around, their eyes narrowing when they saw her.
“What is it?” Thistleclaw demanded.
“Sunstar wants us to check the border for kittypets,” she told him.
His dark gaze brightened. “At last!” He bounded into the trees. “Come on, Tigerpaw,” he called over his shoulder. “Let’s try out some of those battle moves for real.”
Paws heavy, Bluefur followed.
As they neared Twolegplace, Thistleclaw signaled to Tigerpaw. “Run up ahead and check for scents,” he ordered.
Tigerpaw rushed off, leaving Thistleclaw and Bluefur alone.
“I know what you’re doing,” Thistleclaw growled.
Bluefur was alarmed by the ferocity of his mew. “What?”
“Playing with Whitekit every time my tail’s turned.”
“He’s my kin!” she snapped, anger surging in her paws.
“He’s my kit!” he retorted. “Just remember that! I can stop your dumb games anytime I want.”
“How?” Bluefur challenged.
Thistleclaw flashed her a menacing look. “Right now, I’m letting you play with him. But the moment I think you’re turning him soft, the games will stop, get it?” Bluefur glared at him, but Thistleclaw went on. “He’s my son, not yours!”
Stung, Bluefur opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought about his kit-rearing methods.
“Kittypet scent!” Tigerpaw came tearing back. “Come on!”
The dark young tabby led them to a sparse strip of woodland not far from a row of bright red Twoleg nests. Light filtered through the bare branches, striping the forest floor.
Tigerpaw started sniffing tufts of grass. “The trail leads this way.”
Bluefur could smell a faint trace of kittypet. Not strong enough to belong to a full-grown cat. “It’s just a kit,” she meowed. “Not worth following.”
“I forgot you had a soft spot for kittypets,” Thistleclaw growled. He followed his apprentice along the scent trail as it led through long grass at the edge of Twolegplace.
They pushed through the grass and emerged in a sunny patch of scrub beside a fence. A tiny black kittypet was snuffling at the ground. As the three Clan cats advanced, he spun around, eyes wide.
“Hello.” He blinked happily, tail high.
Tigerpaw bristled, and Thistleclaw had already unsheathed his claws.
Bluefur tensed, willing the tiny tom to run. The fence wasn’t far. There was a chance it might escape.
A growl rumbled in Thistleclaw’s throat. “What are you doing here? This is ThunderClan territory!”
“Thistleclaw, he’s only a kit. He’s no threat,” Bluefur pleaded.
“An intruder is an intruder, Bluefur! You’ve always been too soft on them.”