Chapter 4

Sharp agony crackled through Boots' leg. He let out a low groan, before breaking into a fit of coughing. Underneath him, he felt soft, cushiony moss. Boots slowly opened his eyes, half-expecting to still be on the forest floor with the dog looming over him. Instead, he saw round stone walls, shimmering in a band of sunlight pooling through an opening in the roof.

Boots twisted around. He yelped, gaze landing on the round, gentle face of a creamy tom.

"Wh-who are you?" Boots demanded. "Where am I?"

The tom blinked slowly, his plumy tail wrapped limply around his paws. "My name is Canarypelt. I'm the Rebellion's medicine cat. You're in the medicine den."

"What about Moon?"

Canarypelt looked thoughtful. "That white she-cat? She's getting on alright. The last time I saw her, she was speaking with Beanstalk." A small smile crossed his face. "She seems to be enjoying herself."

Boots pushed himself onto shaking forelegs. "I want to see her."

"No." Canarypelt blocked the exit. "You must stay where you are, and lay back down." His blue eyes flashed in the dim light.

Boots felt his hackles raise defensively. "Then can't she come to me?"

The medicine cat peered outside. "I suppose I could fetch her. Don't go anywhere." He slipped into the open, leaving Boots alone in the shadowy den.

"As if I could move at all," he muttered, gazing darkly at his twisted paw.

His stomach churned.

Canarypelt would have told me if it was bad, right?

Boots tensed as Moon barged into the medicine den, eyes glowing. "Boots!" she cried, pressing her muzzle against his. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," he murmured, breathing in her comforting scent. "All but my leg."

Moon backed up, sympathy rolling off her in waves.

"I'm sorry. I should have waited for you, then — then, maybe this wouldn't have happened."

Boots licked his chest in embarrassment. He didn't need to be looked after — he wasn't Moon's kit.

"What is this place, Moon? There's one tom with a strange name, and he calls himself a 'medicine cat'!"

Just then, Canarypelt squeezed into the medicine den. "This is a Clan, young cat. And we bear the names of warriors." He spoke softly, though subtle pride seeped into his words.

A small squeak escaped Moon, as if she had been about to speak. Boots turned to her.

"What is it?"

"I-It's nothing."

"Moon…" Boots narrowed his eyes, an uncommon suspicion flooding through him. He could tell Moon was lying — but she never lied!

"I'm just nervous about asking." She stared at her mud-caked paws. "Here, I'll fetch you some prey, and then we'll talk."

Canarypelt padded to the exit after her. "Do you know where the fresh-kill pile is?"

"That mound of prey?" Moon's ears pricked. "It's between the elders' den and the apprentices' den, isn't it?"

Canarypelt nodded. "Bring him the biggest piece you can find!" he hollered after Moon.

Boots' ears burned with shame. I must look like a twig.

Moon trotted back, dragging a plump rabbit across the ground. "If this is too big, I'll give it to someone who needs it more," she offered.

Canarypelt shook his head. "It's fine."

Moon crouched down and set the rabbit in front of Boots.

Its warm, juicy scent tickled the inside of his mouth. He sank his fangs deep into the rabbit's flank and tore out a huge chunk, savoring each bite of rich meat. "Now," Boots licked fur from his lips, "what did you want to talk about?"

Moon settled onto her haunches. "Beanstalk asked if we would like to join the Clan."

Wind whistled through the rock dome.

"And? What did you say?" demanded Boots.

"I-I said I'd have to ask you about it." Moon glanced at Canarypelt, but he was busy sorting through a pile of leaves and roots.

Boots' claws scraped absent-mindedly through his moss nest. "Do you want to?"

"I… Yes. I think I do." She bent down, touching her forehead to Boots'. "But if you don't wish to stay, I will readily leave."

"Really?"

"Really. Together forever, right, Boots?"

He smiled, closing his eyes. "Together forever." The littermates remained close against each other for many long moments. All was silent but Canarypelt's paws scuffing against the ground as he worked.

"Moon?" Boots breathed.

"Yes?"

"I'll join. I'll join for you."

His sister backed away, shock lighting in her gaze. Then she flung herself at him and wrapped her forepaws around his flanks.

"Hey!" Boots laughed, shaking his head. "Watch the leg!"

Moon hopped back, grinning, and Canarypelt turned to them.

"What's all this ruckus —?" the medicine cat stopped abruptly. His eyes swelled to the size of moons, fur standing on end. His limbs went stiff with shock and his erect tail swept the roof of the den, claws dragging across the rocky ground.

Moon leaped forward, steadying him with her flank. "Are you okay?"

Dread knotted in Boots' stomach. "Canarypelt?"

The yellow tom blinked, and his face returned to normal. "I-I… I just got the strangest feeling from you two." Canarypelt shook out his thick coat, and Moon backed away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you."

Boots exchanged a worried glance with Moon.

"What kind of feeling?"

"I don't know." He turned away. "I'm going to speak with Creststar. Moon, will you stay here with Boots?"

Moon nodded, face dark. "Of course. But, can you tell me something? W-will Boots' wound heal soon?"

Canarypelt flung a look over his shoulder. His voice was quiet when he next spoke. "It will be a few moons. His leg is broken."

Boots gasped; Moon pressed against him. "But it will heal, won't it?"

Canarypelt smiled. "Of course." Then he whisked out of the den, leaf curtain shaking as he went.

Moon cast a look at Boots. "What was all — all that?"

Boots mustered a weak shrug. "I don't know, Moon," he whimpered. "But I didn't like it."

. . .

Moon loomed over Boots, her tail curled around his scrawny body. His flanks rose and fell against her.

Guilt stung at her heart as her gaze swept over his blood-matted leg, gnarled and twisted, missing chunks of fur. Ever since they were kittens, Moon had devoted herself to protecting Boots.

She'd utterly failed her duty.

As he stirred, she rose to her paws and slipped into the open. Her eyes burned with exhaustion; she had hardly slept all night, and she'd heard no news of joining the Rebellion.

Bright sunlight poured into the hollow. The ferns shone like emeralds, and Creststar's golden pelt glittered as she raced to meet Moon.

"You're up," she gasped, chest heaving. "I apologize; I haven't run like that since I got my injury." The Rebellion leader straightened up, excitement twinkling in her striking gaze. "Yesterday Beanstalk told me of how you were thinking about joining the Clan. Have you made your decision yet?"

Moon braced herself before answering. She let out a deep breath.

"Boots and I would like to be a part of the Rebellion, if you'd accept us."

Creststar smiled, her tail waving as if she was a riled-up kit. "Very well. Could you wake Boots? He can watch from the medicine den."

"Watch what?" Moon inquired.

"Your ceremony," Creststar replied.

Moon slipped into the medicine den and nosed Boots awake. "Boots, Creststar is accepting us into the Clan."

His ears pricked, eyes flying open. "Now? I just woke up!" He staggered to his paws, wincing as he put weight on his leg.

"No, no. You have to watch from in here." Moon gently coaxed him onto his belly. "I'm sorry, but your leg will heal faster this way."

Boots mumbled something under his breath, and a pang of pity shot through Moon. She padded back into the ferns, a soft purr rumbling in her throat as the sunshine warmed her pelt.

Creststar was perched atop the Crookedtree, chin raised and chest puffed out with confidence.

Around, the Clan was already gathering. A black-and-white she-cat limped through the undergrowth, tossing a mouse into the fresh-kill pile before settling down between Blueflow and Canarypelt. Pebblefur bounded out of the warriors' den, a Bobbywind hard on his paws.

Pinefoot stalked away from Beanstalk and a dusky gray she-cat, taking her place at the base of the Crookedtree. Moon rushed towards the crowd, sitting down just behind Brambyleaf.

"The Rebellion gathers here today to welcome Moon and Boots to the Clan!" Creststar announced, gesturing towards Moon, then to Boots, whose eyes glinted in the shadows of the medicine den.

Beanstalk yowled with excitement and Froststripe's fur fluffed with surprise.

An unexpected hurt came into Suefall's eyes as she twisted around to gaze at Moon, and Bobbywind pressed comfortingly against her.

"While these two cats are nearly full-grown, they are still inexperienced in the ways of Clan life," Creststar continued. "They will need mentors. Moon, come forward."

Moon's heart shook inside her chest as she pushed into the center of the clearing. Creststar leaped to the ground. "Do you and Boots understand that joining the Rebellion will mean feeding, caring for, and defending the Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Moon's legs trembled. "We do." She turned, nodding to Boots.

"Peachnose," Creststar called.

A muscular gray she-cat slipped out of the crowd, chin lifted proudly. "You will mentor Moon. Teach her the ways of the Rebellion, and show her bravery and strength."

Peachnose drifted towards Moon. She leaned forward, and, instinctively, Moon pressed her nose against hers.

"Moon," Creststar bellowed. "From this day until you become a warrior, you will be known as Moonpaw. It will not be long before you move to the warriors' den, so learn as much as you can during your apprenticeship."

Exhilaration pulsed through Moonpaw's body. She pulled away from Peachnose, whose eyes brimmed with happiness and warmth.

Creststar continued, turning to face the medicine den. "Boots, Canarypelt has told me that your leg is severely injured. Because of this, you will not be able to carry out many apprentice duties, but your mentor, Ivystrike, will teach you as much as she can while you are bound to your nest."

The limping black she-cat rose out of the ferns, and Moonpaw's eyes stretched wide as she saw that her hindlegs were completely made from shiny gray stone.

Beanstalk padded over to Moonpaw, whispering in her ear, "Ivystrike was hit by a car when she was still a kittypet. She lost her hindlegs, and got them replaced with something her housefolk call… 'prosthetics'."

Moonpaw tensed, grim understanding washing over her. Ivystrike would be able to teach Boots how to survive if his injury proved unfixable.

She hobbled to the medicine den and slipped her head inside. Moonpaw watched solemnly as she and Boots touched noses. Ivystrike murmured something to him, then loped back into the crowd.

"Boots, from this day until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as Bootpaw —"

"Creststar." Froststripe strode up to her leader. "Shouldn't we rid them of their collars first? Bootpaw even has a bell, for StarClan's sake!"

Moonpaw felt her claws slide out. Get rid of her collar? But it had always been with her, ever since kithood.

Creststar looked thoughtful, sharing a glance with Pinefoot. "Moonpaw, Bootpaw, do you wish to remove your collars? I can certainly have a warrior tear them off."

Moonpaw couldn't find the words to reply. She didn't understand why she was so attached to this collar plaguing her, only a bitter reminder of being cast into cold and hunger. But she was.

"May I remove it myself, when I feel like it?" At Moonpaw's words, Froststripe narrowed her eyes to slits.

Creststar dipped her head. "Of course. Welcome to the Clan, Bootpaw, Moonpaw. We are happy to have you."

Her new Clanmates threw their heads up, and caterwauls ripped through the air.

"Bootpaw! Moonpaw! Bootpaw! Moonpaw!"

Moonpaw smiled, a joyful airiness filling her chest. She was a part of the Rebellion now, not a kittypet or a rogue. She was a wild cat.