Into The Wild

Graypaw was giving himself a hasty wash. Between licks, he meowed, “I’ve just spoken to Lionheart. Ravenpaw won’t be training with us till his wound is better. He’ll probably stay at Spottedleaf’s den for another day or two. Dustpaw and Sandpaw are on hunting duty. So Lionheart thought you and I could train with him and Tigerclaw this morning. We’d better hurry, though,” he added. “They’ll be waiting!”

Graypaw led Firepaw quickly through the gorse entrance of the camp and up the side of the rock-strewn valley. As they climbed over the crest of the ravine, a cool breeze ruffled their fur. Fat, white clouds raced across the blue sky overhead. Firepaw felt fierce joy well up inside him as he followed Graypaw down a tree-shaded slope and into a sandy hollow.

Tigerclaw and Lionheart were indeed waiting, sitting a few tail-lengths apart on the sun-warmed sand.

“In future, I expect you both to be punctual,” growled Tigerclaw.

“Don’t be too severe, Tigerclaw; it was a busy night last night. I expect they were tired,” meowed Lionheart gently. “You have not yet been assigned a mentor, Firepaw,” he went on. “For now, Tigerclaw and I will share your training.”

Firepaw nodded enthusiastically, his tail held high, unable to disguise his delight at having two such great warriors as his mentors.

“Come,” meowed Tigerclaw impatiently. “Today we are going to show you the edges of our territory, so that you know where you will be hunting and what boundaries you need to protect. Graypaw, it won’t do you any harm to remind yourself of the Clan’s outer limits.”

Without another word, Tigerclaw leaped up and bounded out of the sandy hollow. Lionheart nodded to Graypaw and they took off with equal speed. Firepaw scrambled after them, his paws slipping on the soft sand.

The trees were thick in this part of the forest, birch and ash trees overshadowed by mighty oaks. The ground was carpeted with crisp dead leaves that rustled beneath their paws. Tigerclaw paused to spray his scent on a thick clump of ferns. The other cats stopped beside him.

“There is a Twoleg path here,” murmured Lionheart. “Use your nose, Firepaw. Can you smell anything?”

Firepaw sniffed. There was the faint scent of a Twoleg, and the stronger smell of a dog, familiar to him from his old home. “A Twoleg has walked his dog along here, but they are gone now,” he mewed.

“Good,” meowed Lionheart. “Do you think it is safe to cross?”

Firepaw sniffed again. The odors were weak and seemed overlaid with fresher forest smells. “Yes,” he replied.

Tigerclaw nodded, and the four cats stalked out from beneath the ferns and crossed the sharp stones of the narrow Twoleg path.

The trees beyond were pine. They grew tall and straight, row after row. It was easy to walk silently here. The ground was thick with layers of dead needles, which prickled against Firepaw’s pads but felt spongy underneath. There was no undergrowth here to hide in, and Firepaw sensed tension in the other cats as they stalked unprotected between the tree trunks.

“Twolegs put these trees here,” meowed Tigerclaw. “They cut them down with foul-smelling creatures, which spew enough fumes to make a kit go blind. Then they take the fallen trees to the Treecut place that lies near here.”

Firepaw stopped and listened for the roar of the tree-eater, which he had heard before.

“The Treecut place will be silent for a few moons more, until the time of greenleaf,” explained Graypaw, noticing his pause.

The cats padded on through the pine forest.

“Twolegplace lies in that direction,” meowed Tigerclaw, flicking his thick tail to one side. “No doubt you can smell it, Firepaw. Today, however, we will head the other way.”

Eventually they reached another Twoleg path that marked the far edge of the pine forest. They quickly crossed over into the safe bushes of the oak woods beyond. But Firepaw still sensed anxiety in the other cats.

“We’re approaching RiverClan territory,” whispered Graypaw. “The Sunningrocks are over there.” He pointed with his soft muzzle to a treeless mound of boulders.

Firepaw felt his fur stand on end. This was where Redtail had been slain.

Lionheart stopped by a flat gray rock. “This is the boundary between ThunderClan and RiverClan territory. RiverClan rules the hunting grounds beside the great river,” he meowed. “Breathe deeply, Firepaw.”

The pungent smell of unfamiliar cats hit the roof of Firepaw’s mouth. He was surprised how different it smelled from the warm cat scents of the ThunderClan camp. And he was also surprised to realize just how familiar and comforting the ThunderClan scents seemed to him already.

“That is the smell of RiverClan,” Tigerclaw growled beside him. “Remember it well. It will be strongest at the boundary, because their warriors will have scent-marked the trees along here.” With these words, the dark tabby lifted his tail and sprayed his own mark on the flat rock.

“We’ll follow this boundary line, as it leads straight to Fourtrees,” Lionheart meowed.