Warriors but Wolves: Into the Wild

Chapter 9

     "I'd go and see to Yellowfang, if I were you," whispered Ravenpaw, as Redtail strode away. "She doesn't look very happy."

Firepaw glanced over at the old she-wolf. She was still lying beside the Highrock. Ravenpaw was right; she was glaring at him.

"Well, here goes," he sighed. "Wish me luck!"

"You'll need the whole of StarPack on your side for this one," answered Ravenpaw. "Call out if you need a paw. If she looks like she's going to hurt you, I'll sneak up behind her and whack her on the head with a stiff rabbit."

Firepaw snorted with amusement and trotted off toward Yellowfang. His cheerfulness quickly

evaporated as he neared the injured queen. The old wolf was clearly in a terrible mood. She snarled a warning and showed her teeth. "Stop right there, puppypet!"

Firepaw sighed. It seemed he was in for a fight. He was still hungry and beginning to feel tired. He longed to curl up in his nest for a nap. The last thing he wanted was to argue with this pitiful

clump of fur and teeth. "You can call me what you like," he said wearily. "I'm just following Spottedstar's orders."

"You are a puppypet, though, aren't you?" Yellowfang wheezed. She's tired too, Firepaw thought. There was less fire in her voice, although her spite was as strong as ever.

"I used to live with Twolegs when I was a puppy," Firepaw replied calmly.

"Your mother a puppypet? Your father a puppypet?"

"Yes, they were." Firepaw looked down at the ground, feeling resentment burn inside him. It was bad enough that members of his own Pack still viewed him as an outsider. He certainly didn't want to answer to this foul-tempered prisoner.

Yellowfang seemed to take his silence as an invitation to go on. "Puppypet blood is not the same as warrior blood. Why don't you run home to your Twolegs now instead of looking after me? It's humiliating, being fussed over by a lowborn canine like you!"

Firepaw's patience ran out. He snarled, "You'd still feel humiliated if I were warrior-born. You'd feel ashamed whether I was a precious she-wolf from your own Pack or a wretched Twoleg that had trapped you." He lashed his tail from side to side. "It's the fact that you need to rely on anyone that you find so humiliating!"

Yellowfang stared at him, her orange eyes very wide.

Firepaw carried on fiercely: "You're just going to have to get used to being cared for until you are well enough to look after yourself, you spiteful old bone bag!"

He stopped as Yellowfang began to make a low, harsh, wheezing sound.

Alarmed, Firepaw took a step toward her. The she-wolf was trembling all over and her eyes had narrowed into tiny slits. Was she having some kind of a fit?

"Look, I didn't mean..." he began, before he suddenly realized that she was laughing! Firepaw didn't know what to do.

"You have spirit, puppypet," Yellowfang croaked, stopping at last. "Now, I'm tired and my leg hurts. I need sleep and something to put on this wound. Go and find that healer of yours and ask her for some herbs. I think you'll find a goldenrod poultice would help. And, while you're at it, I wouldn't mind a few poppy seeds to chew on. The pain is killing me!"

Stunned by her change of mood, Firepaw turned quickly and sprinted toward Bluefur's den.

He had never been in this part of the camp before. With his ears pricked, he padded through a cool green tunnel of ferns that led into a small grassy clearing. A tall rock stood at one side, split down the middle by a crack wide enough for a wolf to make its den inside. Out of this opening trotted Bluefur. As usual, she looked stoic and focused, her gray coat gleaming almost blue in the light.