buckled as the plump squirrel rolled off the top of the pile and flattened her. Ooof!
Purrs of amusement erupted from the two warriors beside the nettle patch. “I’ve never seen fresh-kill attack a cat before!” meowed one of them.
“Careful!” warned the other warrior. “All that fluff might choke you!”
Hot with embarrassment, Bluekit wriggled out from under the squirrel and stared fiercely at the warriors. “It just fell on me!” She didn’t want to be remembered as the kit who was jumped on by a dead squirrel.
“Hey, you two!” Bluekit recognized Patchkit from his nursery-scent as he padded out from behind the nursery. “Does your mother know you’re outside?”
“Of course!” Bluekit spun around to see her denmate for the first time.
Oh.
She hadn’t expected Patchkit to be so big. His black-and-white fur was smooth like a warrior’s, and she had to tip her head back to look up at him. She stretched her legs, trying to appear taller.
Leopardkit scampered after her brother, swiping playfully at his tail. Her black coat shone in the sunshine. She stopped and stared in delight when she saw Bluekit and Snowkit. “You’ve opened your eyes!”
Bluekit licked her chest, trying to smooth down her fluffy fur and wishing her pelt were as sleek as theirs.
“We can show you around,” Leopardkit mewed excitedly.
Snowkit bounced around the older kit. “Yes, please!”
Bluekit flicked her tail crossly. She didn’t want to be shown her territory. She wanted to explore it for herself! But Leopardkit was already trotting toward the wide patch of ferns near the gorse barrier. “This is the apprentices’ den,” she called over her shoulder. “ We’ll be sleeping there in a moon.”
Snowkit raced after her.
“Are you coming?” Patchkit nudged Bluekit.
Bluekit was gazing back at the nursery. “Won’t you miss your old nest?” She felt a sudden flicker of anxiety. She liked sleeping next to Moonflower.
“I can’t wait to move into my new den!” Patchkit yowled as he darted toward the apprentices’ den. “It’ll be great to be able to talk without Swiftbreeze telling us to be quiet and go to sleep.”
As Bluekit hurried after him, the ferns trembled and a tortoiseshell face poked out between the green fronds.
“Once you start your training,” yawned the sleepy-looking apprentice, “you’ll be glad to get some sleep.”
“Hello, Dapplepaw!” Patchkit skittered to a halt outside the den as the tortoiseshell she-cat stretched, half in and half out of the bush.
Bluekit stared at Dapplepaw’s pelt, thick and shiny; the muscles on the she-cat’s shoulders rippled as she sprang from the ferns and landed beside Patchkit. Suddenly Bluekit’s denmate didn’t seem so big after all.
“We’re showing Bluekit and Snowkit around the camp,” Leopardkit announced. “It’s their first time out.”
“Don’t forget to show them the dirtplace,” Dapplepaw joked. “Whitepaw was complaining only this morning aboutcleaning out the nursery. The place has been filled with kits for moons, and there’s more on the way.”
Bluekit lifted her chin. “Snowkit and I can keep our nest clean now,” she declared.
Dapplepaw’s whiskers quivered. “I’ll tell Whitepaw when she gets back from hunting. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear it.”
Is she teasing? Bluekit narrowed her eyes.
“I can’t wait to go hunting!” Patchkit dropped into a crouch, his tail weaving like a snake.
Quick as the wind, Dapplepaw pinned it down with her paw. “Don’t forget to keep your tail still or the prey will hear you swishing up the leaves.”
Patchkit pulled his tail free and straightened it out, flattening it to the ground.
Snowkit stifled a purr. “It sticks out like a twig,” she whispered in Bluekit’s ear.
Bluekit was watching too intently to reply. She studied how Patchkit had pressed his chest to the ground, how he’d unsheathed his claws and tucked his hind paws right under his
Ann Voss Peterson, J.A. Konrath