Crookedstar’s Promise

Sedgepaw wriggled her hindquarters and jumped. She landed square on top of the leaf and sat up, ears twitching as she stared at the ground around her. “Where did it go? Did I miss it again?”

Reedpaw rolled his eyes. “Can we go fishing now?” he mewed. “It’s getting hot.”

“You need to learn how to hunt birds as well as fish,” Crookedjaw reminded him.

Loudpaw sniffed. “I want to learn battle moves. We need to win back Sunningrocks!” ThunderClan had reset the scent markers, making Sunningrocks theirs again just after leaf-fall, and Hailstar had refused to risk lives seizing it back during the hardest moons.

Oakheart sighed. “Perhaps we should just give ThunderClan leaf-bare hunting rights there,” he suggested. “That’s always when they take it. They must need the prey.”

“What?” Beetlenose stared at him. “They’ll take over our whole territory if we start making promises like that.”

“Yeah!” Reedpaw lined up beside his mentor. “They’ve got a whole forest! If they can’t find enough prey they must be bad hunters.”

Crookedjaw flicked the end of his tail. “Shellheart’s been trying to persuade Hailstar to reclaim Sunningrocks for a moon. I don’t know why he’s hesitating. It was easy last time.”

Loudpaw ripped at the grass. “Are we going to learn battle moves or not?”

Sedgepaw flattened her ears. “My shoulder’s still sore from last time we tried.”

“You should move quicker,” Reedpaw snapped.

“I move quicker than you!” Sedgepaw retorted.

Yes, but always in the wrong direction. Crookedjaw swallowed back a sigh. He padded to the edge of the beech copse and looked across the meadow. “Let’s try some of the moves Oakheart invented for distracting Twolegs.” Sedgepaw could practice her hunting skills later, when Loudpaw and Reedpaw weren’t around to tease her.

Reedpaw pricked his ears. “Do you mean the ones where we lure them away from camp?” He collapsed into a convincing limp, moaning like an injured kittypet and dragged his hind legs over the grass. “Help me, help me. I’m hurt!”

“Great!” Oakheart pointed at Loudpaw. “Now, what should you be doing?”

Loudpaw hesitated.

“I know! I know!” Sedgepaw was bouncing with excitement. “We race back to camp as fast as we can and hide the elders and kits in the reeds or carry them downriver.”

“Exactly!” Oakheart glanced at the slender beech trees. “Let’s try climbing.”

Beetlenose coughed in surprise. “Tree climbing?”

Oakheart hopped over a jutting root. “It’s the best place to watch for Twolegs.” He unsheathed his claws. “Remember how Echomist spotted those Twolegs bringing their dog through the marsh last moon?”

Sedgepaw bristled. “It was the first dog I’d ever seen.”

Crookedjaw smoothed her fur with his tail. “It could have found the camp if Echomist hadn’t spotted it and lured it away.”

“Okay.” Beetlenose padded to the base of a trunk. “We’ll practice tree climbing.” He beckoned Reedpaw closer. “You go up first. I’ll be on your tail.”

Reedpaw raced to the tree and squatted between its roots. With a grunt, he jumped and grabbed hold of the trunk, then hauled himself up till he reached the lowest branch. He wobbled and clung on as it shivered beneath him.

“Your turn.” Crookedjaw picked out another beech and nudged Sedgepaw forward.

She stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Really?”

“You can do it,” Crookedjaw encouraged. “Keep your claws out and you’ll be fine.”

She leaped and hung on to the bark.

“Go on!” Crookedjaw urged. “Remember how you could climb up my back in three hops when you were a kit?” He remembered her spiky claws with a wince.

Sedgepaw pulled herself up, gaining confidence with each jump until she was scooting up the tree like a squirrel.

“That’s great!” Crookedjaw climbed after her, his claws sinking easily into the soft greenleaf bark. He paused and leaned back. Peering up through the fluttering leaves, he could just make out Sedgepaw’s tabby pelt among the branches. “Stop on the next branch,” he called.

“Okay.” Her mew sounded a long way off.

“I hope she hasn’t gone too high,” Crookedjaw muttered.

“It’s okay,” Beetlenose called from a branch of the next tree. “I can see her. There’s plenty of branch for her to hang on to.”

Reedpaw crouched next to his mentor. “Can I climb that high?”

“No.”

Oakheart was still on the ground, trying to persuade Loudpaw to climb.

“But I’m a RiverClan cat!” Loudpaw complained. “We’re not supposed to climb; we’re supposed to swim!”

“We need to learn new skills,” Oakheart coaxed. “You’ve got claws strong enough to fight. They’ll be strong enough to climb.”

“Crookedjaw!” Sedgepaw suddenly wailed from above.

He looked up, pelt pricking. “Are you okay?”

“Crookedjaw!” she wailed again.

Oh, StarClan! Panicking, Crookedjaw scrambled higher. “I’m coming!” Had she climbed too high and lost her nerve? Perhaps she’d found a bee’s nest and got stung? Please don’t fall! The ground was hidden below leaves and branches, far below.