|| The Prophecies Begin || Book 1 Of 6 || Warriors fanfic

~~Chapter 8~~

"I'd go and see to Yellowfang, if I were you," whispered Graypaw towards Firepaw, as Longtail strode away. "She's doesn't look very happy."

I glanced over at the old she-cat. She was still lying beside the Highrock. Graypaw was right; she was glaring at us.

"Well, here goes," Firepaw mewed. "Wish me luck!"

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

I purred with amusement and slowly glided toward Yellowfang after Firepaw, curious about the old cat. 

The old cat was clearly in a terrible mood. She hissed a warning and showed her teeth. "Stop right there, kittypets!"

I sighed. It seemed Firepaw was in for a fight. He must've still been hungry and was probably beginning to feel tired. "You can call me what you like," he mewed wearily. "I'm just following Bluestar's orders."

"You are a kittypet, though, aren't you?" Yellowfang wheezed.

She's tired too, I thought. There was less fire in her voice, although her spite was as strong as ever.

"we used to live with Twolegs when we were kittens," I replied calmly.

"Your mother a kittypet? Your father a kittypet?"

"Yes, they were." Firepaw looked at the ground.

"No, they weren't. I was a loner with my mother after my father left us and went to Starclan. My mother then decided to take us to a twoleg home." I said glaring at her in resentment. 

Yellowfang ignored my answer and seemed to take Firepaw's silence as an invitation to go on. "Kittypet 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 cat like you!"

My patience ran out. I snarled, "You'd still feel humiliated if he were warrior-born. You'd feel ashamed whether he was a precious she-cat from your own Clan or a wretched Twoleg that had picked you off the ground." I lashed his tail from side to side. "It's the fact that you need to rely on any cat that you find so humiliating!"

Yellowfang stared at me, 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!"

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

Alarmed, Firepaw took a step toward her. The she-cat 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!

"Mr-ow, ow-ow," she mewled, a purr rumbling up from deep inside her chest.

I didn't know what to do.

"You two have spirit, kittypets," 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 pretty little medicine cat 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 Spottedleaf's den.

I stayed behind and layed down next to the old medicine cat.