Warriors: Traitors (Book One)

Chapter Five

                It was a little past sunhigh the day of the next full moon as Moonpaw returned to the camp with his jaws filled with fresh-kill. Wolfheart and Volewhisker followed behind with their own catch before the three cats deposited their prey on the fresh-kill pile. News had been going around the camp the past few days of Daisyfur and Cowpelt’s newborn kits, but Moonpaw had yet to see them. He and Breezepaw had continued to meet at the halfbridge and even at the green-leaf twolegplace for the past moon, and Moonpaw hoped to see her at the Gathering that night.

                “Moonpaw, can you bring some prey over to Rockstripe and bring him new bedding?” Wolfheart asked after she put her two squirrels on the pile.

                “Actually, I was going to visit Cowpelt and Daisyfur’s kits, if that’s alright?” Moonpaw said, barely pausing to turn around and wait for permission.

                His mentor sighed and replied, “I suppose that’s fine; I’ll take something to Rockstripe. But I want you to change his bedding fist thing in the morning. Don’t forget about the gathering tonight, though.”

                Moonpaw nodded and padded off to the nursery with his tail high in the air. Treeleg was sitting outside, supervising her kits as they tumbled around each other and pretended to fight. She didn’t look at the apprentice as he passed, but flicked her tail for him to go inside. He dipped his head in thanks and silently made his way inside, welcomed by the sweet smell of milk and the little squeals of newborn kits next to their mothers.

                Cowpelt was fast asleep. She had four kits, but only one of them was crying as it struggled to find milk. The crying she-kit was a tabby, white as snow with black stripes all along her body, making her look like a tiger frozen in ice. The other three kits were also females, surprisingly. One of them was a dark silver color and was fast asleep next to her bluish-black sister. The last looked exactly like her father Lightningfur, with gray fur lightly tinted dark blue.

                Moonpaw looked over at Daisyfur’s three kits, all of them whining and crying. The loudest of them was an orange tabby she-cat, though her stripes were very difficult to see. Her hind legs, forepaws, tail-tip, chest, and muzzle were a bright white, but the backs of her hind legs almost looked dirty with little ginger patches. The smallest of the litter looked a tiny bit like Breezepaw’s brother Duskpaw, with a black tail, black legs, black ears, and a little black ring around his right eye. The rest of him was dark ginger. The last kit was the oddest of them all. Her back was russet, almost blood colored, and slowly faded to white down by her paws.

                Not wanting to wake Cowpelt, Moonpaw let out a purr of gratitude towards Daisyfur, thanking her for the chance to see the kits, before he left the nursery again. He dipped his head in farewell to Treeleg and walked over to the gathering patrol of cats near the thorn barrier. Much like the last time, Oakstar looked at each cat carefully to make sure all of them were the ones he had chosen to go to the Gathering, and he made sure that no cat would be left behind. With a nod of his head, he vanished into the thorn tunnel and the rest of the group followed swiftly behind.

                Moonpaw looked around at the cats that had been chosen, seeing all four of his siblings and their mother trotting along through the forest. Once again Moonpaw wondered who his father could be, among the many cats in his clan. None of them seemed to be the right fit. The only possible conclusion he could come up with was that perhaps Badgerface or Swiftwind and their mate had been a grey or silver tom? Swiftwind could have been ashamed of having kits at such a young age and asked Kickingbird to raise him and his littermates. Moonpaw quickly banished the thought from his mind. Swiftwind or Badgerface would have said something to them if they were their mother, wouldn’t they?