Firepaw watched the she-cat rip open the prey and start to swallow it down. His own hunger rose up and his mouth filled with water. He knew he shouldn’t even be
“Mmm-mm.” A few minutes later, Yellowfang gave a huge sigh and flopped onto her side. “First fresh-kill I’ve had for days.” She licked her muzzle clean and settled down to give herself a thorough wash.
He eyed the tattered remnants of the prey. There wasn’t much left to line a growing cat’s belly, but his fight with Yellowfang had sharpened his appetite even more; he gave in to his hunger and gulped down the scraps. It was delicious. He licked his lips, savoring every last taste, tingling from head to paw.
Yellowfang watched him closely, showing her stained teeth. “Better than the muck Twolegs feed some of our brothers, isn’t it?” she mewed slyly. Knowing she had found his sore spot, she was trying to antagonize him.
Firepaw ignored her and began to wash.
“It’s poison,” Yellowfang went on. “Rat droppings! Only a spineless bag of fur would accept such disgusting frogspawn-” She broke off and tensed. “Shhh…warriors coming.”
Firepaw was also aware of cats approaching. He could hear their soft paw-fall on the leaf litter and the sound of fur swishing through branches. He smelled the wind brushing against their coats. Familiar smells. These were ThunderClan warriors, confident enough in their own territory not to care about the noise they made.
Firepaw licked his lips guiltily, hoping to wash away any traces of the scraps he’d just swallowed. Then he looked at Yellowfang and the fresh pile of rabbit bones that lay beside her. “The Clan must be fed
CHAPTER 8
Now it was too late for her to run. Silent shadows slipped out of the trees, and in a heartbeat the ThunderClan patrol had encircled Firepaw and Yellowfang. Firepaw recognized them: Tigerclaw, Darkstripe, Willowpelt, and Bluestar, all of them lean and hard-muscled. Firepaw smelled Yellowfang’s fear at the sight of them.
Graypaw followed close behind. He bounded out of the bushes and stood beside the warrior patrol.
Firepaw mewed a hasty greeting to his Clan. But only Graypaw returned it. “Hi, Firepaw!” he called out.
“Silence!” Tigerclaw growled.
Firepaw glanced at Yellowfang and groaned inwardly; he could still smell the fear-scent on her, but instead of cowering in submission, the scruffy creature was glaring in defiance.
“Firepaw?” Bluestar’s question was cool and measured. “What have we here? An enemy warrior-and recently fed, by the smell of you both.” Her eyes burned into him, and Firepaw dropped his head.
“She was weak and hungry…” he began.
“And what about you? Was your hunger so bad that you had to feed yourself before you had gathered prey for your Clan?” Bluestar went on. “I assume that you have a
Firepaw was not fooled by the leader’s soft tone. Bluestar was furious-and rightly so. He crouched lower to the ground.
Before he could speak there was a loud hiss from Tigerclaw. “Once a kittypet, always a kittypet!”
Bluestar ignored Tigerclaw and looked instead at Yellowfang. Suddenly she looked surprised. “Well, well, Firepaw! It seems you have captured us a ShadowClan cat. And one I know well. You are ShadowClan’s medicine cat, aren’t you?” she meowed to Yellowfang. “What are you doing so far into ThunderClan territory?”
“I
Firepaw listened, astonished. Had he heard right? Yellowfang was a ShadowClan warrior? Her filthy condition must have masked her territorial scent. He might have enjoyed tackling her more if he’d known.
“Yellowfang!” Tigerclaw meowed mockingly. “It looks like you have fallen on hard times if you can be beaten by an apprentice!”
Now Darkstripe spoke. “This old cat is no use to us. Let’s kill her now. As for this