Yellowfang ducked her head. “Fine,” she meowed. “Er… gotta go, Sagewhisker. Patrols.” She headed off rapidly, aware of the medicine cat’s gaze following her.
“There you are, Yellowfang,” Stonetooth greeted her as she joined the group of warriors. “Crowtail’s leading a border patrol. You can join him with Hollyflower and Newtspeck.”
“Sure,” Yellowfang responded, brightening up with the prospect of getting out of camp.
“Let’s go.” Crowtail waved her tail and led the way through the thorn tunnel.
Emerging into the forest, Yellowfang could hardly believe how different it looked under the covering of snow. All the humps and hollows in the ground had been smoothed out, and the surface of the snow was crisscrossed by tracks. The shadows had a bluish tinge, and every slight sound—the creak of a branch, the flutter of wings in a tree—seemed magnified in the still air.
“There’s so much white stuff!” Yellowfang murmured to Hollyflower.
Her Clanmate nodded. “It’s been a long time since the last snowfall. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like.”
I was a new apprentice then, Yellowfang thought. So much has happened since!
Every so often snow would shower down from one of the trees; Yellowfang suppressed a mrrow of laughter as Newtspeck had to skip aside to avoid being drenched. Playfully Yellowfang flicked a pawful of snow at Hollyflower; the older she-cat jumped and spun around, her jaws gaping with shock.
“I’m going to get you, Yellowfang!”
Hollyflower scooped up more snow and flung it at Yellowfang. It landed right in her face; she shook her head to get rid of it, spraying snow in all directions.
“Watch out! Snow coming!” she yowled, scuffling up more of the white stuff to throw at Hollyflower.
Crowtail, who had drawn a few paces ahead, halted and glanced back over her shoulder. “Honestly, are you kits?” she demanded. “Grow up. This is a border patrol, or had you forgotten?”
“Sorry, Crowtail,” Hollyflower meowed, dipping her head and looking embarrassed.
“Sorry,” Yellowfang echoed, though she tossed another pawful of snow at Hollyflower’s retreating tail before following.
By the time they reached the Thunderpath, Yellowfang was becoming tired of wading through the snow and getting clots of it tangled in her belly fur. She envied her Clanmates’ sleeker fur and longer legs, which kept their stomachs free.
Crowtail stopped by the two narrow tunnels that burrowed underneath the Thunderpath. “We need to make sure no cats are using these to trespass on ShadowClan’s territory,” she mewed. “With prey so scarce, there’s no telling what the other Clans might be up to.”
“Just let them try!” Yellowfang growled, sliding out her claws.
But when they examined the tunnels and the territory around them, there was no trace of enemy scent.
“Pity.” Newtspeck’s lip curled in the beginning of a snarl. “A good scrap with a ThunderClan patrol would warm me up!”
The patrol continued along the Thunderpath, then veered away to skirt the edge of the Twolegplace. As they drew closer to the walls and fences, Yellowfang grew more alert, watching out for kittypets who might recognize her.
Hollyflower ran lightly across the snow and leaped up onto the nearest Twoleg fence. “Look at this!” she called Yellowfang.
Yellowfang glanced back to where Crowtail and Newtspeck were investigating something at the bottom of a tree. Then she bounded up and joined Hollyflower on the fence.
“What do you suppose that is?” Hollyflower asked, pointing with her tail at a humped shape of snow in the Twoleg garden.
Yellowfang shrugged, more concerned with checking the garden for kittypets. “Who knows?”
“It looks a bit like a Twoleg,” Hollyflower went on, sounding puzzled.
Yellowfang gave the shape a closer scrutiny. “It doesn’t have legs,” she pointed out.
“It’s got a head and a body,” Hollyflower countered. “And a Twoleg pelt on its head.”
“It’s a Noleg, then,” Yellowfang mewed impatiently. Honestly, who cares about weird Twoleg stuff?
“I wonder what it’s like, being a kittypet,” Hollyflower went on after a pause. “Do you suppose they can speak Twoleg? Do you think they go up and say, ‘Hey, it’s time for fresh-kill! I would love to have a vole today, and make sure it’s plump’?”
“I doubt it,” Yellowfang returned dryly. “Do you ever see Twolegs chasing voles in the forest?”
“I guess not. Kittypets don’t have to catch their own prey, though. I think that’s really sad.” Hollyflower let out a sigh. “Never knowing what it’s like to stalk a squirrel…”
Remembering the kittypets she and Raggedpelt had met that night, Yellowfang was pretty sure that some of them would be able to catch their own prey. But she wasn’t about to say that to Hollyflower.
“What do they do all day?” the gray-and-white she-cat went on. “They don’t hunt, they don’t train to fight, they must find it really hard to have a mate if they’re shut up in a Twoleg nest all day. They hardly seem like real cats at all.”
“Russetpaw and Boulder are real cats,” Yellowfang pointed out.
“Yeah, but they’re Clan now,” Hollyflower asserted with a flick of her ears. “I’d be surprised if they even remember living over here. At any rate,” she finished with satisfaction in her tone, “kittypets don’t matter. As long as they stay out of our territory.”
Noticing that Crowtail and Newtspeck were padding up to the fence, Yellowfang leaped down to meet them, pleased to put an end to the awkward conversation with Hollyflower. As she landed, she spotted a hole at the base of the fence, where one of the strips of wood had rotted away. There was plenty of room for a cat to slip through. Instinctively she sniffed, and froze as she picked up the scent of kittypet.
Fresh… she thought. One or two cats have been through here—and not long ago, either. There was a mess of tracks around the hole, but the traces were too confused to tell Yellowfang anything useful. She wasn’t sure whether she ought to tell the others. It will only cause trouble… but then, we’re a border patrol. This is the sort of thing we’re looking for.
Before she could make up her mind, she noticed that Newtspeck had picked up the scent too, raising her head with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “Kittypets!” she hissed.
Her neck fur bristling, she began searching along the base of the fence, trying to find the scent trail. Crowtail helped her, while Yellowfang stood still, flexing her claws, and Hollyflower watched intently from the top of the fence.
“It’s no good,” Crowtail snarled eventually. “This StarClan-cursed snow is blotting out the scent.”
“But kittypets have definitely been on this side of the fence,” Newtspeck meowed, her neck fur still fluffed up and her tail lashing. “Trespassing on our territory again. This has to stop!” She crouched, bunched her muscles, and leaped up to the top of the fence beside Hollyflower, where she let out a challenging yowl. “Stay out of our territory, kittypets!”
Yellowfang’s paws tingled with frustration. Why does Newtspeck have to go looking for a fight? Why can’t we just leave one another alone? She wasn’t sure why she was so desperate not to encounter the Twolegplace cats, but she felt cold fear deep inside her, as agonizing as Nettlespot’s hunger. We mustn’t fight!
Newtspeck launched herself off the fence and vanished on the other side into the Twoleg garden. Yellowfang heard a hiss of pain from her, and in the same heartbeat felt a sharp stab in her shoulder.