Crookedstar’s Promise

“Why go all the way to the Moonstone to speak with StarClan?” The orange-and-white cat stopped in front of him. “You can ask me anything, right here in your dreams.”

“I was right! You are a StarClan cat!” Crookedkit gasped.

The cat dipped her head. “My name is Mapleshade. What is it you want to know, little one?”

“My destiny,” Crookedkit burst out.

“Everything that happens to you is part of your destiny.”

“But the accident? And not becoming an apprentice?” The words rushed out. “Was all that supposed to happen?”

Mapleshade weaved around him, her soft pelt brushing his. “Oh, you poor thing,” she sighed. “Your path is not an easy one. But StarClan would never have given such a hard path to a cat who wasn’t strong and brave and loyal.”

“Really?” Crookedkit shuffled his paws. “Then I am special.”

Mapleshade rested her muzzle on his head. “Of course you’re special.”

Suddenly he remembered Rainflower’s scent. She used to speak to him like this. He pulled away. “How?” he demanded. “How am I special?”

Mapleshade shook her head. “I can’t tell you that yet.”

“Why not?”

“First you must return to your Clan.” Mapleshade’s eyes darkened. “A true warrior is loyal.”

“I was only traveling to the Moonstone.”

“There’s no need to go there now.”

“I guess not.” Crookedkit glanced at his paws. He’d been looking forward to telling his Clanmates he’d visited the Moonstone. “What will I tell everyone?”

“That you’re sorry and you’ll never leave again.” Mapleshade flicked her tail beneath his chin. “They must know you’re loyal.”

Crookedkit straightened. “I am!”

“Then you’ll go back?”

Crookedkit nodded. “Which way do I go?” He glanced around the forest. “I… I think I’m lost.”

A purr rumbled in Mapleshade’s throat. “Close your eyes, little one.” She brushed her fluffy white tail over his muzzle. “And when you wake, you’ll know where to go.”

Crookedkit closed his eyes and let darkness claim him.

Crookedkit rolled over and stretched. The air was stifling. He sneezed and rubbed a paw across his itchy muzzle, then opened his eyes and saw loose dry grasses. They were stacked high above him and smelled woody. Sun streamed in, dancing with dust. He was back in the nest he’d found the night before.

Sitting up, Crookedkit yawned. Then you’ll go back? Mapleshade’s words echoed in his ears. Suddenly he remembered Rainflower’s weary mew, telling him to get down from the tree, and his Clanmates sending him off to play on his own. Crookedkit sighed. What if I don’t want to go back? Suddenly his belly growled.

I’m starving!

Crookedkit pricked his ears. Was that a squeak? He dropped into a crouch and crept across the dusty floor. Mouth open, he let the scents of the nest bathe his tongue. A musky odor filled his nose. Mouse? Maybe. He’d never smelled mouse but he’d heard elders’ descriptions. Padding quietly, he slunk toward the wall at the back of the nest. The dusty stalks twitched in the corner. Crookedkit held his breath. His paws pricked as he bunched the muscles in his hind legs. Fixing his gaze on a soft lump beneath the straw, he prepared to leap.

“Oomph!”

A great weight dropped on his back. Fear pulsed through him as he smelled tom. But it wasn’t any Clan scent he’d ever smelled. Claws dug into his spine. Stiffening with terror, Crookedkit struggled to escape. But the tom was heavy and had a firm grip.

Crookedkit flailed unsheathed claws at the air. “Get off!”

The attacker growled, tightening his grip. “Do you surrender?”

Crookedkit growled. “Never!” Memories of play fights with Oakpaw flashed in his mind. He pictured Oakpaw’s favorite move and let himself go limp.

The tom’s grip slackened. “You do surrender?”

Crookedkit shot backward, unhooking his pelt from the tom’s claws and wriggling out from behind as fast as a fish. As the tom turned, Crookedkit reared up, claws outstretched. “I’ll shred you!” He stared into the face of a fat ginger tom, nearly as big as Hailstar.

The tom’s whiskers twitched. “Go on then.” He sat back on his haunches and raised his forepaws to reveal a fat white belly.

Crookedkit narrowed his eyes. Was this cat mocking him? I’ll show him! He lunged at the tom’s exposed belly, paws churning. Thick, soft fur filled his nose and caught in clumps beneath his claws until he felt heavy paws push him gently away.

“Give it up, kit.”

Crookedkit paused and shook the fluff from his eyes, then blinked at the tom.

“You’re wasting your time,” the tom purred. “By the time you’ve finished shredding me, we’ll both have missed breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Crookedkit tilted his head. What’s breakfast? His belly rumbled again.

“Sounds like you need some.” The tom narrowed his eyes. “And it looks like you need some, too.”

Crookedkit growled. Why did everyone have to point out how skinny he was? He dropped into an attack crouch.