Path Of A Warrior

It would be easier if we had more warriors with us, Tawnypelt thought with fresh regret. If she hadn’t acted so impulsively, perhaps she and Dovewing could have united to argue calmly with Tigerstar, and set out with a proper patrol, instead of storming off with Shadowkit in the middle of the night. But it’s too late now, she thought, shaking dust from her pelt. I just have to believe that Shadowkit is right—it was meant to happen this way. And we’ll be fine.

Shadowkit and Dovewing were in a sunny patch of grass, closer to where the mountain slopes rose above them. Tawnypelt padded toward them, and Shadowkit greeted her with a purr.

“We saved you a vole,” Dovewing mewed, and Tawnypelt settled beside them and sank her teeth into the prey. She eyed Dovewing, trying to think of what to say; she still felt a little awkward around the other cat.

“We went hunting before you got up!” Shadowkit announced, breaking the silence. “I helped catch that vole!”

“He certainly did,” Dovewing agreed. “He chased it right toward me.”

The kit puffed out his chest with pride, and Tawnypelt mewed affectionately, “You’ll be a good hunter one day.”

Shadowkit’s eyes widened earnestly. “I’m going to be a medicine cat, though,” he replied.

Tawnypelt’s eyes met Dovewing’s and they both purred with laughter, the stiffness between them disappearing. “We know, kit,” Dovewing chuckled, brushing her tail over his back.

“Even a medicine cat should know how to hunt, though,” Tawnypelt added. “You might get hungry while you’re looking for herbs.”

“I could track prey through the grass like this,” Shadowkit said, getting to his paws. He crouched low and waggled his hindquarters, ready to pounce. Both she-cats purred with laughter again, and Dovewing began to move her tail slowly through the grass for him to stalk.

“How much longer do you think it will be until we get to the Tribe?” Tawnypelt asked as they watched Shadowkit wiggling through the grass, his eyes fixed on Dovewing’s tail.

“Another day or two?” Dovewing guessed. “We’ll have to be careful of Shadowkit on the way. The mountain paths are so narrow.”

Tawnypelt shuddered, imagining Shadowkit slipping and falling from a crag, or down into a crevice between mountain boulders. “We’ll keep him between us,” she suggested. “We’ll go slowly over any slippery patches. By being slow and cautious, we can keep ourselves safe.” Dovewing nodded, but Tawnypelt could see the doubt in her eyes.

This would be a dangerous journey for a group of warriors—but for two warriors and an unwell kit?

“We should hunt again before we start,” Dovewing mewed finally. “The mountain prey—”

She broke off as Shadowkit gave a small, hurt noise and collapsed onto his belly in the grass.

Both she-cats jumped up and rushed to him as the kit began to convulse, his paws drumming against the ground, his body shaking.

“Shadowkit!” Tawnypelt cried. She and Dovewing put their front paws on Shadowkit’s side, trying to still his thrashing, but he was jerking violently and they couldn’t hold him.

We don’t even have any herbs to give him, Tawnypelt thought desperately, suddenly feeling terribly alone and helpless. Oh, why did I leave so suddenly? Why didn’t I ask Puddleshine for something before I brought Shadowkit with me?

After what felt like moons, the kit’s body stilled, and he blinked up at his mother, looking exhausted and panting rapidly.

“Shadowkit, how do you feel?” Dovewing asked gently.

The kit blinked. “All right,” he muttered. “But the tree …” He broke off, looking puzzled.

“Just rest,” Tawnypelt meowed firmly. “You’ll be able to think more clearly when you wake up.” Sleep helped him last time, she thought.

Dovewing gently nosed the top of his head. “Tawnypelt’s right. Let yourself sleep.” Obediently, Shadowkit closed his eyes.

They watched silently, their sides pressed together for comfort, as the kit’s breathing fell into the slow rhythms of sleep.

“I wish I could help him,” Dovewing mewed at last. “Each time this happens, it looks like—I don’t know how he’s surviving this.” Tawnypelt knew what she meant: Shadowkit didn’t look strong enough to come back from these thrashing, violent fits.

Dovewing shook her head, her face despairing. “If I were a better mother, I’d know what to do,” she went on. “Maybe if I had more experience with kits …”

“You’re a very good mother,” Tawnypelt meowed firmly. “Every mother sometimes feels like she doesn’t know enough to take care of her kits. Look at me: I raised three kits, but I don’t know how to help Shadowkit, either.” She nudged Dovewing gently. “You can’t blame yourself.”