Warriors: Shattered Blossom

Chapter Two

Cragkit tackled Hollykit to the ground with a delightful purr. He pressed a paw firmly against her head, squashing it against the dirt.

    "I did it!" He cried as the red she-cat pushed him away.

    "Yeah, you did," she sourly huffed, twitching her nose with discontent. She craned her neck around to give her spine a long lick.

    It had only been a moon since the incident in the medicine den, aging Cragkit and Nightkit at about two moons and a half. Cragkit and Nightkit had been weaned not too long ago, and their first taste of prey—a freshly caught mouse—had been amazing.

    Cragkit was also proving to be a good fighter—at least in comparison to the other kits. His shoulders were already beginning to broaden, and he was showing to be bulkier and his muzzle narrower, much like his father, while Nightkit was slim like their mother. Regardless of their primary differences, they both shared notably wider ears.

    Cricketkit and Goosekit—now Cricketpaw and Goosepaw—had been promoted to apprenticeship. The two older she-cats dropped by occasionally to help the kits with their fighting moves, but the time they spent visiting was few and far in between. Cragkit couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment as they scampered into camp behind their mentors, eyes sparkling with glee and mice dangling from their mouths.

    Cragkit harrumphed and turned his eyes back to the area where his friends played.

    Sedgeflight, the beautiful sandy-furred queen, had retired to the nursery a little less than a moon ago. She currently bathed in the sun, lounging comfortably on her side as she watched the kits, a soft mystification shimmering in her eyes as she watched them roll around. Glazepaw was among the kits, teaching Cardinalkit a hunter's crouch with a paw cresting over his spine as she readjusted him, mewing words of gentle critique. Strikefeather and Vixensong were absent; out hunting to relieve their cramped muscles from their long confinement in the nursery.

    Cragkit's eyes strayed to the medicine den. He could hear the faint coughs of Quaildapple, the beautiful deputy. According to his mother, she had caught a bad case of greencough, and he was strictly informed to steer clear of Stumpwhisker's den until she was feeling better. Even with the warning, he was deathly curious.

    Hollykit swatted Cragkit over the ears. "Are you even listening, fox-breath?" She hissed, the vulgar phrase rolling easily off her tongue.

    Cragkit snapped his head up. "Sorry," he blurted. "I zoned out. What was it you said?"

    "I said, we're going to be playing Warrior. Glazepaw's going to teach us some battle moves. Won't you join us?"

    Cragkit tilted his head. "Maybe later," he murmured, his eyes straying back to the sheet of waving ferns.

    Hollykit narrowed her eyes. "Can't you just take your head out of the clouds for once?"

    Cragkit shrugged absently, and with an annoyed huff, Hollykit strutted away to rejoin the other three toms and the apprentice.

    Cragkit heard their giggles and play-fighting from where he sat, his thin tail curled over his paws. Though playing was fun, he couldn't help but wonder about the responsibilities of Stumpwhisker. The tom, even though he'd been furious that the kits had broken into his herb store, had cared so tenderly for both he and his brother. The day following the incident, he had taught the two of them why it was so terrible to eat the herbs, even if they didn't give nasty side effects like the burdock root did.

    Every leaf, every root, and every seed had its own purpose for the Clan. Some could cure colds, some could heal burns, and others could make cats sick, just as the roots had done to Nightkit and Cragkit.