Crookedstar’s Promise

Crookedstar wished he had been there to protect his brother. He’d trained in the Dark Forest, too, and he’d have known a few of Thistleclaw’s battle moves. Crookedstar shuddered at the memory of that dank, stinking place. Rumors from the border hinted that Tawnyspots was dying; ThunderClan would need a new deputy soon, and even though Adderfang had been carrying out Tawnyspot’s duties during his illness, Thistleclaw’s name was the one whispered at the Gatherings. Crookedstar closed his eyes, dreading the thought of a Dark Forest cat becoming leader of a Clan. A shower of snow splattering against his muzzle jerked him back to the present.

“Mouse!” Loudbelly squealed as Piketooth shot away, skimming the snow, fast as a fish. He slammed his paws on it as it darted toward the roots of a rowan and killed it with a bite.

“Let’s get back to camp,” Crookedstar meowed. It was getting colder and all the cats were shivering.

“But we’ve only got a mouse,” Loudbelly argued.

“It’ll have to do,” Crookedstar told him. “We’ve been out all day. It’s freezing. We don’t want to get sick.” He knew Brambleberry’s supply of herbs was dangerously low.

As they padded into camp, Piketooth carried his mouse to the fresh-kill pile and dropped it next to a dead frog, which was already stiff with frost. Willowbreeze was hurrying toward the nursery, feathers trembling in her jaws.

Crookedstar crossed the clearing and stopped beside her. “Who needs feathers?”

Willowbreeze’s eyes shone. She beckoned him forward with a nod. Squeezing in after his mate, Crookedstar felt his mouth fall open in astonishment. Graypool was curled in her nest with two kits squirming at her belly.

Kits?

Willowbreeze quickly tucked the feathers around the kits and sat back, purring. “It’s a blessing from StarClan!”

Crookedstar closed his mouth, speechless.

“I found them.” Graypool anticipated his first question as she gently nuzzled the kits, encouraging them closer.

“A tom and a she-kit,” Willowbreeze announced proudly. The tom was pale gray and mewling; the dark gray she-kit stared around the den, her eyes bright with fear.

Crookedstar leaned forward and touched the she-kit’s ear with his muzzle. “Don’t worry, little one. You’re safe here.” He narrowed his eyes at Graypool. “What do you mean, you found them? Where?”

“At the border.” Graypool wrapped her tail tighter around the kits. “A loner must’ve abandoned them. It’s a blessing I discovered them before they froze.” She looked up with a gleam of defiance in her yellow eyes. “I’m going to keep them and raise them as my own.”

“But what if their mother comes to find them?”

Graypool flattened her ears. “A mother who abandons her kits won’t come back to claim them.”

Willowbreeze pressed against Crookedstar. “StarClan must have led Graypool to them.”

Fallowtail squeezed through the entrance. “Can I see them?”

Lakeshine peered in, Softwing crowding behind her.

“Come on.” Willowbreeze began shooing away her Clanmates. “These kits need rest.” She guided Fallowtail out of the nursery. “They’re still weak from their ordeal.”

Crookedstar hopped out after them, glancing back at Graypool. The gray queen was staring at the kits as if they were the only things that mattered in the world. Outside the nursery, Willowbreeze fended off questions from her Clanmates.

“They’re strong and healthy, just frightened.”

“I expect you’ll be able to see them in the morning.”

“Graypool’s smitten with them, and I think they like her.”

Voleclaw nudged Crookedstar. “Willowbreeze seems to have everything under control,” he purred. “She’ll make a good mother herself one day.”

Crookedstar hardly heard him. What if the loner comes back? Graypool’s heart would break to give them up. Would a loner be prepared to fight for her kits? Would it be fair to make her fight?

What would Hailstar have done?

Distracted, Crookedstar padded toward the willow.

“Have you seen them?” Oakheart limped through the snow and stopped beside him.

“Seen them?” Crookedstar was still lost in thought, but he noticed the limp. “Are you all right? I thought you were resting that leg.”

“It’ll be fine.” Oakheart shrugged away his concern. “What about the kits? Aren’t they great? Just what Graypool needed. It really is a blessing from StarClan.”

“Then you think we should keep them?” Crookedstar searched his brother’s bright gaze.

“Don’t you?” Oakheart frowned. “Are you worried the mother might come and claim them?”

Crookedstar nodded. “They’re not our kits. Can we really decide their fate?”

“What else can we do?” Oakheart pointed out, with a hint of anger in his mew. “Take them back and leave them where Graypool found them? They’d die before moonrise.”