Crookedstar’s Promise

“Thanks.” The moon was rising and stars were beginning to prick the sky. The camp suddenly felt small and stuffy. Crookedstar headed out through the reeds and followed the trail toward the willows. The sky was as dark as moleskin as he wove between the slender trunks. Wildflowers scented the air. His paws were wet from the dewy grass.

Thank you, StarClan. Please protect her.

Memories stirred behind his eyes, crowding into his vision even though he tried to force them back. He could see Rainflower lying on the shore, her eyes clouded. He felt the weight of Hailstar’s body on his back.

“Willowbreeze is mine, Mapleshade!” he yowled into the trees. “Do you hear? She isn’t part of my promise, whatever you think! Don’t you dare hurt one hair on her pelt!”

He stared around the clearing, alert for any paw step, tasting the air for the familiar bitter scent. But only the willows answered, with the rustling of their leaves.

Crookedstar sniffed the air. The flowery scents of greenleaf had deepened into a musty richness; leaf-fall was closing in. Timberfur, Sunfish, and Stonefur streamed past him into camp. They’d patrolled the Sunningrocks border, re-marking the scent line. Crookedstar padded through the reeds and stopped in the clearing. He checked the fresh-kill pile. It was well stocked with fish.

“Willowbreeze!” He gasped when he saw her, vast-bellied and tottering as she tried to drag a bundle of reeds from the shore. “What in the name of StarClan are you doing?” She was far too close to kitting to be doing such heavy work. Crookedstar darted over and pulled the reeds away from her.

Willowbreeze bristled. “What’s the matter?”

“Can’t someone else do this for you?”

“I can make my own nest, thank you!” She glared at him, a challenge in her eyes.

Crookedstar swallowed his frustration. “Then at least let me help you,” he meowed. He picked up the bundle before she could argue and carried it to the nursery. Hauling the reeds inside, he dropped them beside her nest.

Sunfish looked up from the edge of the den. She was expecting Beetlenose’s kits and would be kitting soon after Willowbreeze. “I told her she should ask for help.”

Willowbreeze squeezed, puffing, into the nursery. “I don’t need any help,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

“Who needs help?” Brambleberry slid in after her.

Crookedstar flicked his tail. “Willowbreeze thinks she should be dragging reeds around camp!”

Brambleberry shrugged. “Of course she wants to fix her nest before she kits. It’s perfectly natural.” She glanced at the bundle Willowbreeze had collected. “I’ll ask Shimmerpelt to give you a paw weaving those in.”

“Thanks.” Willowbreeze was still glowering at Crookedstar.

Crookedstar glowered back. “I still think you shouldn’t be—” He stopped as Willowbreeze started coughing. A chill rippled along his spine.

Brambleberry narrowed her eyes. “When did you start coughing?” She padded to Willowbreeze and pressed an ear against the queen’s flank.

“This morning,” Willowbreeze spluttered. “It’s just a tickle. I must have swallowed a feather in my sleep.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Brambleberry meowed breezily. “But I’ll get you some catmint and marigold anyway.”

Crookedstar watched the medicine cat carefully. He knew how well she could guard her true feelings. He’d visit her later in her den to make sure that Willowbreeze wasn’t in any danger. Just to be sure.

“Ow!” Willowbreeze gasped and dropped into a crouch.

Crookedstar froze. Willowbreeze was scowling with pain.

Brambleberry touched Willowbreeze’s belly with a paw. She looked a little surprised. “Well! The kits are coming.”

Crookedstar stared at her in shock. “Now?”

Brambleberry nodded. “Fetch Mudfur and Fallowtail.” She glanced at Sunfish. “It’ll be your turn soon enough. Do you want to watch?”

Sunfish’s eyes glittered. “Yes, please,” she mewed nervously.

Brambleberry whisked her tail toward Crookedstar. “Hurry up!”

Crookedstar squeezed out of the nursery and raced across the clearing. He poked his head through the medicine den entrance. “Willowbreeze is kitting!” he called to Mudfur.

The medicine cat’s apprentice was sorting through herbs. He looked up, ears pricking. “Okay, I’m coming.” He grabbed a pawful of leaves.

Crookedstar ducked out and headed for the elders’ den. “Fallowtail?”

The old queen looked up from her nest. “Has she started?”

“How did you guess?”

“You look as scared as a kit dropped in the river for the first time.” Fallowtail got stiffly to her paws and headed for the entrance.

Crookedstar followed her down the slope and watched as she disappeared into the nursery. Mudfur trotted across the clearing with a bundle of herbs between his teeth and followed her inside. Crookedstar’s pelt pricked with frustration. He paced the clearing, trying to block out memories of Brightsky’s kitting.

Oakheart padded into camp, a fish in his jaws. One glance at Crookedstar and he dropped the fish and raced across the clearing. “Willowbreeze?”