Path Of A Warrior

Tawnypelt craned her neck, her heart sinking. She had leaped to the top of boulders like this, the first time she had come to the mountains, but they hadn’t been covered with slippery ice. And there was no way Shadowkit could climb up there, even with help. “We’ll have to turn back and find another way,” she realized, her heart sinking.

Before Dovewing could reply, a growl came from above.

“Who are you?” A lithe young she-cat leaped from the rock overhead and landed in front of them, her teeth bared and ears flat. “You’re on our territory.” Her pale brown fur was bristling as much as it could beneath smeared patches of mud.

The mud is to hide her from the eagles, Tawnypelt remembered, relief surging through her body. We’ve reached the Tribe!

Shadowkit was pressing close against his mother, frightened of the hostile young cat. Tensing, Tawnypelt prepared to argue. We’ve made it this far—now we have to get to Stoneteller.

“Hold on, Breeze,” another voice called. Looking up, Tawnypelt saw several faces peering down at them. “Dovewing, is that you?”

“Snow?” Dovewing called back. With a thump, a white she-cat, her fur barely visible beneath a coat of mud, landed in front of them.

“This is Dovewing,” she said to the younger she-cat. “She comes from the Clans, far away in the flatlands. She’s a friend to the Tribe.” Turning to Tawnypelt, she dipped her head and held out a paw in a gesture Tawnypelt remembered from her last visit to the Tribe. “I am Snow Falling on Stones, and this is Breeze That Rustles the Leaves, a cave-guard to-be.”

Tawnypelt dipped her head to them in response and introduced herself and Shadowkit. “I came here with Stormfur, a long time ago, and then with the Clans when we journeyed to our new home,” she added.

“You know Stormfur?” Breeze’s ears perked up. “He and Brook are my parents!”

“We both know your parents well,” Tawnypelt mewed. Stormfur, born a RiverClan cat, and Brook, born in the Tribe, had lived with ThunderClan by the lake for a while before going back to the Tribe at last.

“You must be a younger sister of Lark and Pine,” Dovewing commented. “They were kits the last time I saw them. And Snow, you were a to-be when I was here before, but I guess now you’re a cave-guard?”

“Yes, I am. We were patrolling the border,” Snow said, with a concerned glance at Shadowkit. “But I think getting you back to the cave is more important.” She looked up at two cat faces still peering down at them from above. “Moss! Night! Meet us by the thornbush.”

As they followed Snow back through the icy crevice between the boulders, Breeze looked down at Shadowkit. “Are you all right to walk a little farther?” she asked.

Shadowkit waded through the snow with his head held high. “I’m very strong and brave,” he told her. “I’m a ShadowClan cat.” Despite the icy wind, Tawnypelt was warmed by the pride in his mew.

Snow glanced at Dovewing. “Our kits stay in the cave until they become to-bes,” she said with a trace of accusation. “It’s dangerous out on the mountain, especially during frozen-water.”

“I know,” Dovewing replied solemnly. “Our kits usually stay in camp until they’re old enough to be apprenticed, too, but this is important. We have to talk to Stoneteller.”

The sun was low in the sky by the time they reached the pool at the bottom of the waterfall at last. A steady wall of water crashed down the mountainside, its thunder so loud that Tawnypelt’s ears rang.

“It’s beautiful,” Shadowkit murmured, staring up at it. Sunshine reflected off the falling water, making it shimmer. Where the waterfall pounded into the pool below, a cloud of white mist rose all around, dampening the cats’ fur. Shadowkit turned to peer up into Tawnypelt’s face with anxious amber eyes. “But so dangerous.”

“Do you recognize it?” Tawnypelt asked, hoping that the kit would say yes. I need to know this is right. “Is it the place from your vision?”

The kit squinted at the waterfall and then sighed. “I’m not sure. I only saw part of it… .”

Tawnypelt remembered how Shadowkit had trembled and called out, “It’s falling!” He’d been seeing a tree going over this waterfall, hurting the Tribe. As they helped Shadowkit up the rocks that led behind the waterfall to the cave’s entrance, she and Dovewing exchanged a worried look.

The Tribe of Rushing Water’s cave was just as she remembered it. It rose high, as high as the top of the waterfall, and long fangs of rock grew down from the ceiling, high above them. Sunlight shone through the waterfall, giving everything a flickering, dreamlike quality.