Leafpool’s Wish

“What about underneath this thicket?” Squirrelflight suggested as she helped Leafpool free from the prickly tendril.

“Do you want my kits to be full of thorns?” Leafpool meowed.

Squirrelflight said nothing, just walked on. “How about next to that fallen tree?” She pointed with her tail to an oak that lay on its side.

Leafpool wrinkled her nose. “It smells bad.” She could tell Squirrelflight was about to explode. Then she stumbled to a halt as a spasm of pain gripped her belly. “Oh! I think they’re coming!”

In an instant Squirrelflight was pressed against her. “Not yet, Leafpool! We have to find somewhere safe for them.”

Leafpool looked up and saw a gnarled tree in front of them, so old and twisted that she couldn’t tell if it had been an oak or an elm to begin with. It was smothered in ivy, and a dark shadow that ran down its length showed that it had been hollowed out by a blast of lightning many moons ago. She felt a pull toward it as if it had reached out and grabbed the scruff of her neck.

“That is the place,” she whispered as another wave of agony rippled through her. “That is where my kits will be born.”

Chapter 9

Leafpool dragged herself into the hollow tree and collapsed onto the leaf mulch with a groan. She was dimly aware of Squirrelflight fluttering around her, shoving more dried leaves beneath her and placing a bundle of dripping moss near her head. Leafpool felt as if the whole world had shrunk to the dimensions of her body, a world that was full of scarlet pain and throbbing fear. There was a pulling sensation underneath her tail and Leafpool cried out in alarm.

“Tell me what I should do!” Squirrelflight hissed in Leafpool’s ear. “I can see a kit coming!”

Leafpool gritted her teeth against the next pulse of agony. “Wait until it is free, then nip open the sac around its body. Push it toward me so I can lick it.” She yelped at a wave of sharp stabbing pain across her belly. She lifted her head and saw a small, slime-covered black shape slither out onto the leaves. Squirrelflight tugged away the transparent sac that covered its head and Leafpool stiffened as a wail pierced the air.

Squirrelflight nudged the kit closer to Leafpool’s belly and Leafpool curled herself around it. Her world expanded just enough to enclose this beautiful, perfect kit. She started to lick its fur clean as she felt its tiny mouth latch onto her. Then she writhed as another spasm racked her body, stronger than any before. She waited for the wave of pain to die away as the kit shifted inside her, but the throbbing continued. In the red mist of agony, Leafpool felt herself begin to panic.

Something’s wrong!

“I can see another kit!” Squirrelflight called. “But it’s not moving! Push harder!”

Leafpool had no breath to speak. She tried to press her paws against her belly, manipulate the kit the way she would if she were helping a queen in the nursery. But her legs flopped weakly to the ground. She felt Squirrelflight trying to help, prodding and nudging with her own paws, but she hadn’t been trained, and Leafpool had no strength to tell her sister what to do. Dark shadows clustered around her and she felt herself ebbing away. She knew that cats could die if a kit got stuck. Help me, StarClan…

Then the air stirred beside her, and a new, familiar scent filled the hollow tree. Leafpool felt strong paws pressing down on her flanks, and the kit inside her started to turn. She opened her eyes and saw the faint outline of a starlit cat, gray-furred and flat-muzzled. Yellowfang!

Squirrelflight was standing beside Leafpool, huge-eyed and gaping.

“Make yourself useful,” Yellowfang ordered, and her voice sounded like the wind between the stars. “Give Leafpool some water, and rub some warmth into that black kit.”

Squirrelflight rolled the moss closer to Leafpool so she could drink, then started pummelling the tiny shape beside her belly until the little cat squeaked. Leafpool felt Yellowfang shove a stick between her teeth.

“This is going to hurt,” the old cat grunted. She leaned on Leafpool’s belly with a force that made her shriek in protest. “Have a little faith,” Yellowfang hissed.

With a wrench, the kit was born, a huge golden tabby tom with broad shoulders and a deafening yowl. Squirrelflight dragged him beside the black kit and Leafpool stared down at the tom in disbelief. My son! She felt him start to suckle and let her head fall onto the leaves. She had never been so exhausted in her life. She felt as if she had been turned inside out, and wanted nothing more than to sleep for a moon.

But Yellowfang shook her roughly awake. “Stay with us, Leafpool,” she rasped. “There’s one more kit to be born.”

“I can’t,” Leafpool whimpered without opening her eyes. “I’m not strong enough.”