Into The Wild

As Firepaw bounded down the side of the glade toward the Great Rock, he could still smell the scents of last night’s Gathering. He followed the others through the grassy clearing and up the slope on the other side, into WindClan territory. The bushy slope became steeper as they climbed, and rockier, until the cats had to leap from boulder to boulder up the side of a craggy cliff face.

Firepaw paused when they reached the top. Ahead of them, the ground flattened out into a wide plateau. The wind blew in a steady gust that rippled the grass and bent the trees. The soil was stony, and outcroppings of bare rock dotted the landscape here and there.

The air still carried the scents of WindClan, but they were stale. Much fresher, and more alarming, were the pungent markings of ShadowClan warriors.

“All Clans are entitled to safe passage to the Moonstone, but ShadowClan seems to have no respect for the warrior code anymore, so be alert,” warned Bluestar. “We mustn’t hunt outside our territory, though. We’ll follow the warrior code, even if ShadowClan doesn’t.”

They set off across the plateau as the sun rose into the sky, following the tracks through the heather. Firepaw had grown used to living under a canopy of trees. Without their shade, his flame-colored pelt felt heavy and hot, and his back seemed to burn. He was thankful for the steady breeze blowing from the forests behind.

Suddenly Tigerclaw stopped dead. “Watch out!” he hissed. “I smell a ShadowClan patrol.”

Firepaw and the others lifted their noses, and sure enough, the scent of ShadowClan warriors traveled on the wind.

“They are upwind. They won’t know we are here if we keep moving,” meowed Bluestar. “But we must hurry. If they move ahead they’ll detect us. It’s not far to the edge of WindClan territory now.”

They moved on quickly, leaping over the rocks, pushing their way through the sweet-smelling heather. Every few steps, Firepaw sniffed the air and glanced over his shoulder, on the lookout for the ShadowClan patrol. But gradually the odor grew fainter and fainter. They must have turned back, he thought with relief.

Finally they reached the edge of the uplands. The landscape changed dramatically, shaped and altered beyond recognition by Twolegs. Wide earth tracks crisscrossed green and golden meadows, small woods dotted the land, and Twoleg nests were scattered here and there among the fields. In the distance Firepaw saw a familiar wide, gray path, and an acid tang that stung his throat drifted on the breeze.

“Is that the Thunderpath?” he asked Graypaw.

“Yes,” replied Graypaw. “It runs up from ShadowClan territory. Can you see HighStones behind it?”

Firepaw looked at the distant horizon. The land rose sharply up to a point, jagged and barren. “Do we have to cross the Thunderpath then?”

“Yep,” mewed Graypaw. His voice was strong and confident, almost cheerful, as he faced the difficult journey.

“Come on!” Bluestar meowed. She bounded forward. “We can be there by moonrise as long as we keep up the pace.”

Firepaw followed her with the others, down the hill, away from the bleak hunting grounds of WindClan and into the lush Twoleg territory.

Keeping near the hedges, the cats walked on. Once or twice Firepaw could smell prey-scent from the bushes, but Spottedleaf’s herbs had succeeded in taking the edge off his hunger. The sun was still hot on his back, even in the shadows of the hedgerows.

They skirted a Twoleg nest. It stood on a wide expanse of hard white stone, with smaller nests round the edges. Keeping low, the cats crept past the fence that surrounded the white stone. A sudden barrage of barking and snarling made them spin around.

Dogs! Firepaw’s heart missed a beat. He arched his back, fur bristling from nose to tail.

Tigerclaw peered through the fence. “It’s all right. They’re tied up!” he hissed.

Firepaw looked at the two dogs scrabbling on the stone barely ten tail-lengths away. They were nothing like the pampered pets that lived in the gardens of the Twolegplace. These creatures stared at him with wild, killing eyes. They strained at their ties and reared up on their hind legs. They growled and barked, their lips drawn back to reveal huge teeth, until the shout of an unseen Twoleg silenced them. The cats moved on.

The sun was beginning to sink by the time they reached the Thunderpath. Bluestar signaled to them to stop and wait beneath a hedge. His eyes and throat stinging from the fumes, Firepaw watched as the great monsters flashed to and fro in front of him.

“We’ll go one at a time,” meowed Tigerclaw. “Ravenpaw, you first.”

“No, Tigerclaw,” Bluestar interrupted. “I shall go first. Don’t forget, this will be the first time of crossing for the apprentices. Let them see how it is done.”