“I’ll flay that badger,” he snarled. “I’ll spread her guts from here to the Twolegplace. No creature hurts my brother and gets away with it.”
Yellowfang pictured the two tiny badger cubs who had peeped out from the brambles while their mother was attacking the Clan cats. Is it fair to drive the badger and her babies out of their home? Couldn’t we just stay away from that part of the forest until she has raised her cubs?
Yellowfang knew she wasn’t thinking like a warrior, but she was also certain that if it had been the other way around, she would do anything to protect her kits, including attacking any animals who strayed too close to her den.
Maybe I could say that I don’t remember the way back.
Before she could decide, she heard a triumphant yowl from Mousewing, who was sniffing among the undergrowth on one side of the path. “Over here! Raggedpelt’s scent, and blood on the bracken!”
Now Yellowfang had no choice but to lead the patrol straight to the clearing. She couldn’t work out whether she felt relieved or disappointed. When the thorns that circled the clearing came into sight, Yellowfang raised her tail to signal her patrol to halt. “It’s through there,” she meowed. “Wolfpaw, Foxpaw, don’t you dare move a paw until I tell you.”
Remembering how Deerleap had taught her to look, listen, and scent, she tried to detect what the badger might be doing, and what they could expect to find when they entered the clearing. But although there was a strong stink of the creature, there was nothing to be seen, and no sound came from behind the brambles.
“Yellowfang,” Archeye murmured, “we ought to have a plan before we go in there.”
Yellowfang nodded. “What do you suggest?”
Beckoning the patrol closer, Archeye went on in a low voice. “When we go through the gap, we should split up. Newtspeck, Scorchwind, and Foxpaw that way”—he drew scratches on the ground with his claws—“Mousewing, you, me, and Wolfpaw this way. We’ll try to surround her.”
“Good,” Yellowfang agreed. “I’ll follow you in and help where I’m needed. Scorchwind—” She fixed the ginger tabby with a stern gaze. “You will not take unnecessary risks. Got that?”
Scorchwind paused, then nodded reluctantly. “Got it.”
“Okay,” Archeye went on. “Then, when we’ve pulled down the badger, we’ll move on to her cubs. They shouldn’t give us much trouble.”
Yellowfang found herself wincing at the thought of sinking her claws into the tiny, helpless cubs. I’m a warrior! she told herself. I have to do this! “Right,” she mewed. “Let’s go.”
Mousewing was the first of the cats to burst into the clearing. But instead of veering to the side as Archeye had planned, he halted, letting out a yowl of surprise. “The badger is gone!”
Yellowfang ran in behind him and gazed around the clearing. The thorns were trampled and the bramble tendrils torn and scattered. Fresh earth showed where the badger had frantically dragged her cubs out of the den.
Thank StarClan, thought Yellowfang. I don’t have to kill them after all!
But then Wolfpaw called out. “Here’s their trail! We can still catch them.” Without waiting for any cat to respond he charged away along the badger’s trail.
“Wait!” Yellowfang yowled. “You can’t attack a badger by yourself!” And I’m leading this patrol! she added silently.
Wolfpaw slackened his pace enough for the rest of the cats to catch up. Yellowfang took the lead as they followed the badgers’ path through trampled undergrowth that seemed soaked through with the reek of the creatures. At first the trail led toward the Twolegplace, then veered away toward the border with the unknown woods where no cat went. Soon Yellowfang began to pick up the scent of ShadowClan markers, and halted as they reached the edge of their territory.
“We should keep going until we find them and kill them,” Scorchwind urged. “They might come back.”
“That’s mouse-brained,” Yellowfang retorted. “We should be thankful that they’ve left without more cats getting hurt.”
“You’re right, Yellowfang,” Archeye meowed. “And it’s thanks to you that the badger took her cubs away. You showed her how fierce ShadowClan warriors can be.”
“Yeah, she couldn’t get out fast enough,” Newtspeck agreed.
Yellowfang ducked her head, embarrassed by their praise. How could she tell them that she felt nothing but relief that they didn’t need to harm the mother badger and her cubs?
Chapter 13
Yellowfang froze as a leaf drifted down right in front of her nose, but the lizard she was stalking through the marsh grass paid no attention. Leaves are falling all the time now, Yellowfang thought. Prey was becoming scarce as the foliage grew sparser, and her belly growled with hunger. The air was chilly with the promise of leaf-bare.
Setting her paws down with all the care she could muster, Yellowfang crept up on the lizard where it had halted in a clump of thicker grass. But as she was waggling her haunches in preparation to pounce, another cat flashed past her in a blur of movement. Raggedpelt’s paws were outstretched, but he landed a mouse-length short. The lizard vanished, flickering away into the grass.
Yellowfang sat up. “Hey!” she yowled. “That was my prey.”
“You were too far away for a good pounce,” Raggedpelt retorted, turning to glare at her from wide amber eyes.
“Huh! And you weren’t, I suppose.” Yellowfang flexed her claws and felt her shoulder fur beginning to bristle. “So how come neither of us has any prey for the Clan?”
Raggedpelt took a breath to go on arguing, then let it out in a sigh. His tail drooped. “You’re right,” he admitted, ducking his head. “I’m sorry. That was mouse-brained.”
Yellowfang let out a sound that was half purr, half growl. “It’s okay, stupid furball,” she mewed, giving his cheek a lick.
Raggedpelt stepped back, but only a little; the anger in his eyes had given way to warmth. “Since we’re both after the same thing, why don’t we hunt together?” he suggested.
Yellowfang blinked, holding his gaze. It felt so good to be friends with Raggedpelt again, patrolling and hunting together since he had recovered from the wounds the badger had given him. “Why not?” she agreed.
Brushing through the thorn tunnel, Yellowfang was satisfied with the result of the hunt. She was carrying a squirrel; it was thin, but it was the best piece of prey she’d spotted all day. And I almost didn’t catch it. One more heartbeat, and it would have escaped up that tree.
Raggedpelt had caught another lizard to make up for the one he had lost. Together the two cats bounded across the clearing and dropped their prey on the fresh-kill pile.
“That went well,” Raggedpelt declared. “We should hunt together more often. We make a strong team.”
Yellowfang nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
“Remember the other day, when you chased that rabbit right into my claws? That was—” He broke off as Foxpaw came hurtling across the clearing and skidded to a halt in front of the fresh-kill pile.
“Wow, a squirrel!” she exclaimed, her eyes stretching wide. “Congratulations, Raggedpelt.”
“It’s Yellowfang’s squirrel,” the tabby tom responded. “It was a great catch, too.”