Thunderstar stiffened. “Of course I’m excited,” he answered indignantly. “It’s just…” He scuffed his paws against the earth of the clearing.
“Why don’t we go out of camp?” Lightning Tail suggested. “Not every cat here needs their claws in your prey.”
Thunderstar followed his friend through the gorse tunnel and out of the ravine. When they emerged into the forest, he breathed deeply. The scents of trees and grass and the rustle of small prey in the dark were soothing.
The two toms faced each other. Lightning Tail waited expectantly.
“I am excited, but I’m worried, too,” Thunderstar confessed. “I couldn’t sleep, thinking of having my own kits, and how I’ll have to protect them.”
“This is a good time to have kits,” Lightning Tail mewed seriously. His eyes, reflecting the moonlight, gleamed at Thunderstar in the darkness. “The Clans are at peace and the forest is full of prey. By the time your kits are born, it’ll be greenleaf. They’ll grow up healthy and strong, Thunderstar.”
Thunderstar’s shoulders slumped. “But what if the Clans turn on each other? What about hawks and foxes? Greencough. Whitecough. Redcough. Remember the fire when we were young and how Moon Shadow died? Remember how Turtle Tail was killed by the Twoleg monster?” Suddenly it was difficult to catch his breath as a wave of panic shot through him. “I’m sure there’s so much more I don’t even know to worry about yet. How can I protect them from everything?”
Sometimes Thunderstar felt like he was barely hanging on by his front claws, trying to keep his Clan united and happy, trying to take care of every cat who depended on him. Was he really ready for kits, too?
Lightning Tail draped his tail across Thunderstar’s back reassuringly. “You can’t predict what’s going to happen. But you’ll have a whole Clan looking out for your kits. And you protect all of us already. I know you and Violet Dawn can do this.”
Thunderstar’s mew caught in his throat. “What if I’m a bad father? Clear Sky—Skystar—didn’t even want to look after me when I was a kit. What if I’m like him?”
Lightning Tail’s whiskers twitched. “You’re worried about becoming a father because of Skystar? Skystar might be your father, but Gray Wing raised you. And he was the best father a cat could have. You’ve already learned everything you need to know from him. You’ll see.”
Thunderstar thought again of Gray Wing, who had taught him to hunt, fought to protect him, given him a home. Through all the moons of his kithood, wise, gentle Gray Wing had guided him. “Gray Wing was pretty great.”
“You will be too,” Lightning Tail told him. “And even if you’re not, Violet Dawn and I will make sure the kits grow up right. I’m honorary kin as well as their Clanmate, you know.”
Thunderstar blinked at his friend fondly, his heart feeling lighter. Maybe Lightning Tail was right. Maybe everything would be fine. “Of course you are. I know I can depend on you.”
Chapter Two
“I’m just hungry all the time now,” Violet Dawn said wistfully, staring out at the rain from under the thornbush by the warriors’ den.
Milkweed purred in amusement. “That’s totally natural. In the moon before these kits were born, I didn’t want to do a thing except eat. Your body is making sure your kits are big and strong.”
Her small ginger-and-black tom-kit, Patch Pelt, threw himself at his pale ginger littermate, Beech Tail, and knocked her over. “I’m the biggest and strongest!”
Scrambling to her feet, Beech Tail bared her tiny teeth at him. “I’m stronger than you! You’re no bigger than a vole!”
The kits began to wrestle, and Milkweed swept her tail over them lovingly. “Hush, kits,” she said fondly. “You’re kicking up mud.”
Thunderstar looked at Violet Dawn’s swollen sides, a familiar curl of anxiety beginning in his chest. Was she getting enough to eat? It had, as expected, been an easy newleaf, with plenty of prey. But these last few days had been gray and rainy, and prey had been much harder to find. Every cat was hungry.
Owl Eyes, Clover, and Leaf trooped through the gorse tunnel, looking soaked and grumpy. A ragged vole dangled from Owl Eyes’s mouth and a skinny shrew from Leaf’s. Clover was limping.
“That’s all you caught?” Thunderstar mewed as they came closer.
Leaf dropped the shrew and pushed it toward the kits. “It’s been raining so long all the prey scents are washed away. We were lucky to find these.”
Clover winced. “Cloud Spots, can you look at my leg? I slipped in the mud and I think I might have sprained it.” The medicine cat nodded and went over to feel gently along her hind leg.
“You’d better come to my den,” he told her. “Shivering Rose, come help me. You can practice treating sprains.”
“Can we eat the shrew, Milkweed?” asked Patch Pelt eagerly as the rest of the Clan watched the medicine cats help Clover toward their den.
Milkweed hesitated, glancing at Violet Dawn.
“They can have it,” Violet Dawn said firmly. “Kits need to eat.”
Thunderstar managed to keep himself from objecting, but it wasn’t easy. They needed more prey.
“You should have the vole,” Owl Eyes said, dropping it in front of Violet Dawn.
“Thank you,” Violet Dawn said, and then nudged Milkweed. “We’ll share it. Your kits need you to be strong as well.”
Thunderstar looked around. The rest of the Clan watched, looking a little mournful, as the two she-cats devoured the small vole in just a few bites. He couldn’t let them all go hungry. His heart began to beat faster: He was responsible for all of them. And his kits would need a strong Clan.
“I’m taking out another hunting party now,” he decided. “We need more prey.”
Owl Eyes and Leaf exchanged glances, taken aback. “The hunting’s terrible,” Owl Eyes said. “The prey’s all taken shelter from the weather in their own dens.”
“There’s just not much out there,” Leaf agreed, and Clover nodded.
“Are you arguing with me?” Thunderstar growled. “This isn’t enough prey. We have to try harder. Thistle, Apple Blossom, Gooseberry, you’re coming with me.” He knew that he was being a little unreasonable, but he couldn’t let his Clan go hungry another day. Not when the kits would be here soon.
A large drop of cold water splashed down from the branches of the thornbush onto his shoulders. Apple Blossom slowly got to her feet, her tail drooping. The other cats were looking at each other dismally, seeming skinnier than usual with their damp fur plastered to their backs.
“But it’s horrible out,” Thistle objected.
Gooseberry licked her chest fur, avoiding Thunderstar’s gaze. “If the others hunted for so long and found so little, are we going to do any better?”
The fur along Thunderstar’s spine began to bristle. Don’t they understand how important this is? What kind of cat would let their Clan go hungry?
Before Thunderstar could let his anger out on his Clanmates, Lightning Tail hurriedly stepped forward. “It’s tough hunting out there,” he agreed. “But we’re a Clan. We protect each other and take care of each other. And we’re the best hunters of any Clan in the forest.”
“We are!” Hazel Burrow raised his head proudly, and Thunderstar saw Pink Eyes’s whiskers twitching with fond amusement at the young cat’s declaration.
“Leaf and Clover and Owl Eyes managed to find prey for ThunderClan even in these terrible conditions,” Lightning Tail went on, his tail lashing excitedly. “We’re all grateful to them. Thunderstar’s grateful to them, too. But the rest of us have to try to do just as well. If we don’t give up, we can feed every cat!”