Eclipse

“That sounds good,” Millie agreed. “I’d like to call the littlest one Blossomkit. The white patches on her tortoiseshell fur look just like fallen petals.”

“Bumblekit, Briarkit, and Blossomkit,” Graystripe murmured. “Welcome to ThunderClan, my precious children.”

“They’ll be all right now,” Leafpool mewed to Jaypaw.

“Daisy will keep an eye on them and call us if they need anything.”

She wriggled out of the den, and Jaypaw followed her into the moonlight. As they padded back to their den, he felt a surge of pride—for Millie, for himself, and for Leafpool.

“You did well.” Leafpool brushed her muzzle against his cheek as if she could tell how he felt inside.

“Thanks.” Jaypaw licked her ear. Their quarrel was a long way from his mind right now. “That was the most amazing thing ever!”

“Yes, it was,” Leafpool murmured.

Was that sadness in her mew? Jaypaw wondered. She certainly didn’t seem as elated as he was; his paws felt lighter than the breeze, as if he could fly right out of the hollow and over the trees. Perhaps Leafpool had helped so many cats give birth that it didn’t stir her anymore. Or perhaps she was envious of the way the tiny kits knew instantly who their mother was, and loved her fiercely from their very first breath. Jaypaw’s paw steps slowed as he tried to imagine how Leafpool really felt watching new lives being born. Did she feel sorry that she would never have kits of her own?

Jaypaw slept late. When he finally padded out into the clearing, his thoughts bleary with sleep, hot sunshine warmed his back. The fresh-kill pile smelled delicious, and, hungry after his night’s work, he dragged a mouse from the top and began to eat.

“I heard you delivered your first kits!” Hollypaw hurried up to him and rubbed his cheek with her muzzle. “I wish I could have been there.”

“It was great,” Jaypaw mewed between mouthfuls.

Graystripe squeezed out of the nursery. Happiness shone from him warmer than the sun as he padded across the clearing.

“Congratulations, Graystripe!” Longtail called.

Cinderpaw paused from her washing as Graystripe passed the apprentice den. “Is Millie all right?”

“She’s perfect,” Graystripe answered. “And so are the kits.”

“I can’t wait to see them!” Icepaw was bouncing around the clearing.

“We’ve seen them already!” Toadkit boasted. “Bumblekit is going to play with me when he’s a bit bigger.”

“They’re really cute!” Rosekit added. “Especially Blossomkit. She’s so tiny!”

Jaypaw could hear Graystripe nosing through the fresh-kill pile.

“Millie will be hungry,” Mousefur called from outside the elders’ den.

“And she’s going to eat the best piece of prey I can find,” Graystripe called back.

Sorreltail kneaded the ground. “What do the kits look like?”

“Briarkit is dark brown, Blossomkit is tortoiseshell and white,” Graystripe reported, “and the tom, Bumblekit, is gray with black stripes.”

Dustpelt was washing beside the halfrock. “At least they’ll have proper warrior names,” he muttered. He had clearly not forgotten that Millie had refused a Clan name.

Graystripe took no notice of the striped warrior. He returned to rummaging through the fresh-kill pile until Firestar bounded down from Highledge.

“You chose fine Clan names.” The ThunderClan leader sounded excited for his old friend, though Jaypaw detected sorrow running like a spider’s web between the two warriors, as though they shared a sad memory. Was it connected with the silver tabby Jaypaw had seen in his dream?

“You should have called Blossomkit Squealkit, because that’s all she does!” Toadkit mewed.

“Don’t be mean!” Rosekit gasped. Fur brushed the dusty ground as the two kits tumbled into a fight.

“Stop it, you two!” Spiderleg’s stern mew echoed around the hollow as he separated his kits.

“We were just playing,” Toadkit complained.

“Well, play something quieter!” Spiderleg snapped. “I don’t envy you, Graystripe. Two kits are hard enough.” Then he yelped in pain. “When I told you to play something else, Toadkit, I didn’t mean attacking my tail!”

The thorn barrier rattled. Jaypaw swallowed the last of his mouse and tasted the air. Brambleclaw, Ashfur, and Lionpaw were padding into the camp. They headed to the fresh-kill pile and dropped their prey.

“Where’s the dawn patrol?” Brambleclaw called. “They should be back by now.”

“Who was on it?” Spiderleg asked.

“Thornclaw, Poppyfrost, and Birchfall.” Guilt was prickling Firestar’s pelt. He should have noticed they were missing.

Jaypaw concentrated on the camp, scanning it for signs or smells of the three missing warriors.

“Perhaps they decided to hunt,” Graystripe suggested.

“They’re supposed to report straight back,” Brambleclaw pointed out.

“It must be quiet in the forest,” Spiderleg guessed.

Jaypaw could smell only stale scents of the three warriors.