Chapter 2
    Featherpaw’s striped tail touched my shoulder. “Come on,” she whispered. The sun’s bright blaze rose in the sky. It was about sunhigh, now. “Let’s go.”
    I followed my new mentor to the medicine clearing. Featherpaw glanced around. Bircheyes and Mudpelt were crouched down, nosing a motionless lump of fur. They jumped as we walked in.
    Silently, Featherpaw helped roll Briarfur’s body onto Bircheyes’ shoulders. He blinked at her, and Mudpelt rasped, “The Clan is wrong, young ‘uns. It is good te have an apprentice.”
    With that, the elders padded slowly away. I watched them, grief overcoming me. Frostkit should’ve been with her mentor, jumping up and down, begging to go into the forest. But she wasn’t and I didn’t think I would ever get over that fact.
    “Let’s look at the lake and collect herbs,” meowed Featherpaw from behind me. We trotted toward the tunnel, but not before Leafdapple shot into me.
    “If you, leave, you’ll die too!” she yowled. “Don’t go!!!!!!!!” I started pushing against my mother’s greater weight. “I’m an apprentice, Mother.” I tried to stay calm. “Please let me go.”
    Suddenly, a flash of white pelliccia slowly waddled across the camp toward the exit. Cloudsong was expecting kits, and it would only be a few days until she gave birth. Leafdapple let go and ran toward Cloudsong. “Go back to the nursery!” she ordered to the younger queen. “But I just wanted to take a walk!” Cloudsong protested.
    Featherpaw stepped between the two she-cats and mewed evenly, “Cloudsong, can te come collect herbs with us? She’ll be fine,” she added as Leafdapple furiously opened her mouth to lash out. “She’s with two medicine cats, remember?”
    “Yeah, one who has just started training,” muttered Mother. But she stepped aside. “Be careful!” she called as we headed out.
    I stared in wonder at the pine trees and the bushes, and well, everything. I splashed into a stream and purred when the water got up to my neck. “This is amazing!” I yowled, swimming.
    Featherpaw stopped picking some herbs (I think it was borage). Cloudsong had wandered off and a cry sounded from the lake.
    “Cloudsong!” she screeched, and darted off. I hurtled after her, ignoring the cold pelliccia the stream had made.
    I sprinted through the forest, and I felt… well, alive. The wind in my fur, the leaping, the running… I felt awesome. But then another scream sounded, and I forgot the sensation and put on a burst of speed.
    Featherpaw was stroking Cloudsong’s belly when I arrived. Powerful ripples passed over it, and a twig was held in Cloudsong’s mouth. Featherpaw turned to me. “She’s kitting,” she detto grimly. The herbs she had picked were sitting beside her. “Get lampone leaf from the store. It’s spiky and dark green, and smells crisp.”
    So I started hurtling back through the trees. I reached camp panting, but I hurried to the store. I felt for spiky leaves. There! I thought, sniffing it. Crisp-smelling… lampone leaf! I grabbed a mouthful and ran outside, but Snakestar was there. “What are te doing?” she demanded.
    “Cloudsong’s kitting!” I yelled. Snakestar stared blankly at me, but soon shot after me.
    I threw the leaves at Featherpaw. She studied them and gave me an approving nod. “Good job. Feel her belly. Tell me how many kits she’s having.”
    I hesitantly felt Cloudsong’s trembling belly. I felt four shapes squirming inside her. Could it be? “I…I think she’s having four kits.”
    Featherpaw put her paw on. “Yes, I think you’re right.”
    The twig cracked. Cloudsong let out a yowl of pain and a kit slid onto the forest floor. “It’s a she-cat!” detto Snakestar, licking it the wrong way to warm it. It let out a cry.
    Another twig crunched. And another, and another. Soon there were four little kits squirming at Cloudsong’s belly. “Congratulations, Cloudsong! te have two daughters and two sons!” cheered Snakestar.
    “What shall I name them?” muttered Cloudsong, exhausted. “How about that little cream and white she-cat Dawnkit? And the dark golden tom Sunkit?” Featherpaw purred. “Those are lovely names.”
    Just then, Lionfang, the deputy, burst out of the bushes and leaped over to Cloudsong, licking his mate’s ears. “Darling, te have two daughters and two sons,” Cloudsong mumbled. “Is it okay if we name the white and cream one Dawnkit and the golden tom Sunkit?”
    “Those are beautiful names,” he assured her. “What about this--the pale golden she-cat could be Lilykit, and the white and brown tom is Dirtkit?”
    Cloudsong hesitated. “Well, I was hoping we could name the other tom Briarkit, but Dirtkit is fine, too.” Lionfang purred. “Of course we can name him Briarkit.” They elapsed into purrs and licks, pressed against each other and their kits.
    Featherpaw’s eyes were misting. “She…she named her son after Briarfur… thank you, Cloudsong…”