“Why split them up?” Shellheart had argued. Hailstar agreed. Crookedjaw was just pleased that Leopardkit wouldn’t be alone in the nursery—even for a moon. He knew how painful it was to be left behind. Then he reminded himself that Leopardkit would have had Shimmerpelt to keep her company. Even though the night-black queen wanted to return to her warrior duties, Crookedjaw knew she wouldn’t abandon Leopardkit. She loved the golden-spotted kit too much.
Shifting his paws, he scowled at Rainflower. She sat apart in a chilly cloud of her own breath. If only she’d been able to see past his broken jaw and remember how much she had loved him at first. His accident had changed nothing about him except the way he looked—but for Rainflower, that had been everything. Crookedjaw pushed away the thought. The past couldn’t be changed. His own kits—if he had any—would be loved. The mate he’d chosen would never desert them, no matter what they did.
He pressed closer to Willowbreeze. “Thanks,” he whispered.
She glanced at him, surprised. “What for?”
“Just because…” He stared at her fondly, lost for words.
She purred and brushed the snow from his pelt with a paw. “Go on,” she whispered. “Hailstar’s calling you.”
Crookedjaw realized the eyes of the Clan were on him. Hailstar beckoned him forward with a nod. “May you share with Sedgepaw your courage, skill, and loyalty.”
Crookedjaw padded into the clearing and pressed his nose to his new apprentice’s head. She was trembling. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “You’ll be great.”
He looked up and saw Oakheart standing beside his apprentice, Loudpaw. The young tom was fidgeting, tail up, clearly desperate for the ceremony to finish so he could start training. Oakheart whisked his tail over his restless apprentice’s ear and twitched one ear at Crookedjaw.
They were mentors at last.
Hailstar cleared his throat. “We have one more kit to welcome into RiverClan as an apprentice,” he announced.
At the edge of the clearing, Mudfur licked Leopardkit’s head, holding her back with a paw while she struggled.
“Stop it, Mudfur!” she squeaked. “It’s my turn!”
Eyes misting, he let her go, and she dashed into the clearing before Hailstar had even called her name.
“Leopardkit.” Hailstar purred as she skittered to a halt at his paws.
She blinked up at him. “Yes?”
“Until you earn your warrior name, you will be Leopardpaw.”
She stared eagerly around the clearing as Hailstar went on. “Your mentor will be Whitefang.”
Leopardpaw’s eyes widened as the huge white tom padded toward her. He pressed his muzzle to her head.
“I hope I grow as big as you,” she breathed.
Whitefang purred. “Perhaps not quite as big.”
Hailstar flicked his tail. “Whitefang, share with her your courage, discipline, and compassion.”
The Clan cheered, not just Leopardpaw’s name, but the names of all the new apprentices. Sedgepaw and Loudpaw raced to Ottersplash and bounced around her while Timberfur nuzzled Reedpaw. Shimmerpelt wrapped her tail around Skypaw while Piketooth tumbled across the clearing, play fighting with Blackpaw. Leopardpaw raced straight to Mudfur, nuzzling his cheek with her muzzle.
Mudfur’s eyes were dark with worry. “I pray you’ll never have to fight in a battle.” He flicked his tail protectively around her.
“Don’t be silly!” She skipped away. “I can’t wait to fight in my first battle!”
Crookedjaw backed away from the mayhem.
Willowbreeze nudged him. “Scared?” she teased.
“Never.”
“A ’paw is a big responsibility.” Her gaze suddenly clouded. “I wish I had one.”
“What? A kit or a ’paw?”
She shoved him hard. “An apprentice, of course!”
“You’ll get one soon,” he promised.
Owlfur was teasing Softwing about her new apprentice, Skypaw. “She’ll wear out your whiskers,” he joked.
Softwing sniffed. “I can handle her.”
Owlfur glanced at the little brown tabby running rings around Cedarpelt. “You think?”
“Can we go out now?” Sedgepaw’s mew made Crookedjaw jump. The young she-cat was standing, tail high, pelt fluffed against the snow. Crookedjaw felt a surge of excitement. “Sure! I’ll show you our territory.”
Sedgepaw bounced back to her denmates. “I’m going out!” she boasted.
“I want to go!” Frogpaw mewed.
“Me too!” Blackpaw stared hopefully at his mentor, Hailstar.
Sunpaw flicked her tail. “I’m going to be the first to cross the stepping-stones!”
“Try getting there before me!” Skypaw dared.
Loudpaw barged past both of them. “I’m going to be first to climb Sunningrocks!”
Reedpaw purred. “We are totally going to rule this Clan!”
Beetlenose padded toward Reedpaw. “You’ll rule every Clan when I’ve finished training you.” He glanced at Crookedjaw. “Do you think Sedgepaw will make it to warrior?”
Crookedjaw rolled his eyes. “If you want to compete, Beetlenose, go ahead. I’m just going to make Sedgepaw into the best warrior she can be.”
Sedgepaw flicked her tail. “Should I check the elders for ticks before we go?”
Crookedjaw shook his head. “I think the ticks will be there when we get back.” He called to Oakheart. “Do you want to come, too?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Loudpaw skidded toward Crookedjaw. “Can we, please?” He looked desperately at Oakheart.
“Yeah,” Oakheart purred.
Reedpaw was gazing hopefully at Beetlenose. “You’re not going to let them go without me, are you?” he mewed wistfully.
“Do you want to come, too?” Crookedjaw asked Beetlenose.
Beetlenose sniffed. “I suppose so.”
Ottersplash sat down, eyes shining as she watched her kits pelt toward the sedge tunnel. “You’ll look after them, won’t you?” she meowed.
“As if they were my own,” Crookedjaw promised. He hurried to catch up before the young cats made it to the stepping-stones. Oakheart puffed beside him as they raced along the grassy path, Beetlenose at their heels. They caught up with the kits on the shore. Snow was piling against the bank, turning Sunningrocks white on the far shore. But there was no ice on the river yet.
“Can we swim?” Loudpaw asked. “We’ve only swum around the reed bed before. Never in the proper river.”
“It’s much too cold!” Crookedjaw snorted. “I don’t think your mother would thank us for bringing you home with whitecough.”
Sedgepaw bounded on to the first stepping-stone. “Are we going to cross?”
Oakheart shook his head. “Let’s stick to the shore today,” he decided. “We’ll take you downstream and then through the willows to the marsh.”
Reedpaw skipped around Beetlenose. “Will we see pelt-dens?”
“And Twolegs?” Sedgepaw’s eyes were huge.
“Let’s find out.” Beetlenose headed along the shore, flicking snow from each paw as he went. Loudpaw, Sedgepaw, and Reedpaw bounded after him.
“Were we like that?” Oakheart fell in beside Crookedjaw.
Sedgepaw turned, ears twitching. “Like what?”
“Like excited squirrels,” Crookedjaw teased.
Sedgepaw’s attention flitted to the trees. A bird was hopping from branch to branch, sending down showers of snow. “What’s that bird?”
“A mistle thrush,” Crookedjaw told her.
“Do we hunt it?”
“Yes, if the river freezes.”
“What else do we hunt?” Sedgepaw didn’t wait for an answer. “Do we hunt mice like ThunderClan or rabbits like WindClan? Have you eaten rabbit? What does it taste like? Did Willowbreeze eat it when—”