The Fourth Apprentice

“Hey, they smell a bit like RiverClan!” Tigerheart whispered with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t let Rippletail or Petalfur hear you say that,” Dovepaw warned him, in no mood for jokes.

Following Whitetail up the slope, she gradually became aware of something else up ahead. Twolegs! She nearly called out the word, but she realized that she would be in trouble again, trying to explain how she knew. There are green pelt-dens, too, like the ones on the ShadowClan border.

Putting on a spurt, she caught up to Whitetail and hissed, “I think I can scent Twolegs.”

“Really?” The white she-cat halted and opened her jaws to taste the air. “Yes, I think you might be right.” Turning to the rest of the patrol, she added, “Twolegs up ahead. Be careful.”

The cats padded on more slowly, using the logs and stumps for cover. At the top, Whitetail signaled with her tail for the others to crouch down, and they crawled the last few tail-lengths on their bellies. Gazing out from the shelter of a clump of grass, Dovepaw made out several pelt-dens in the clearing ahead. A full-grown Twoleg was sitting outside the entrance to one of them, while two others were examining something on the ground a few fox-lengths away. There didn’t seem to be any of the young Twolegs playing about, like the ones in the other clearing.

Just as well, Dovepaw thought with a sigh of relief.

“What do you think the Twolegs are doing here?” Rippletail asked, getting up to pad a little farther forward. “Do you think they have anything to do with the brown animals?”

“Maybe they’ve come to watch them,” Petalfur guessed.

Around the edges of the open space were hard, black Twoleg things, with long black tendrils trailing along the ground. More of the Twolegs were gathered around them, muttering and occasionally touching the black things, which made sharp clicking sounds. Dovepaw bent down to lick one of the tendrils that was snaking past her, and jumped back at the bitter taste, which was similar to the stench on the Thunderpath.

“Hey, look!” Tigerheart padded up to her. “Some of those Twolegs have fur on their face! They look weird.”

“Twolegs are weird,” Toadfoot pointed out sourly from just behind him. “We don’t have to go on about it.”

“I wonder what they have in that den,” Sedgewhisker murmured, peering around the trunk of a tree. “It smells so good!”

Dovepaw gave a long sniff, her nose twitching as she picked up the scent from the farthest pelt-den. It smelled like some sort of fresh-kill, though it was mixed up with Twoleg scents as well. Her belly rumbled. She was hungry enough to eat anything.

“I’m going to check it out,” Sedgewhisker announced, bounding into the clearing toward the pelt-den.

“Hey, wait!” Whitetail called, but her Clanmate didn’t reappear.

“I’ll get her,” Petalfur meowed, heading off in the WindClan cat’s paw steps.

“Now there are two of them in danger.” Whitetail lashed her tail angrily.

Dovepaw watched, holding her breath. Sedgewhisker was heading straight for the pelt-den; Petalfur followed, but she was focused so closely on the WindClan warrior that she didn’t spot the Twoleg moving toward her.

“Oh, no!” Dovepaw whispered. She didn’t want to see what happened next, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

The Twoleg yowled something, bent down, and scooped up Petalfur in its huge paws. Petalfur let out a startled squeal and began wriggling, but the Twoleg held her firmly. The Twoleg was meowing something to her; Dovepaw didn’t think it sounded hostile.

“I’ll claw its ears off!” Toadfoot hissed, bunching his muscles to leap out into the clearing.

“No, wait.” Lionblaze blocked the ShadowClan warrior with his tail. “Look.”

Petalfur had stopped struggling. Instead, she pushed her face up to the Twoleg’s, and batted gently at its ear with one paw. Dovepaw could hear her purring as the Twoleg stroked one paw down her back.

“I don’t believe I’m seeing this,” Tigerheart meowed gleefully. “Wait till I tell them back home.”

The Twoleg put Petalfur down and made patting motions at her with its paws, as if it was telling her to stay where she was. Petalfur sat down, still purring. The Twoleg strode across to the pelt-den, passing Sedgewhisker, who was watching, frozen with horror, near the entrance.

The Twoleg ducked inside and reappeared a moment later with something in its paw; the Twoleg carried the object over to Petalfur and put it down in front of her. Petalfur picked it up and rubbed herself against the Twoleg’s leg, then darted away, back to the edge of the clearing.

“What are you all staring at?” she demanded, dropping the thing the Twoleg had given her.

“Er…you, being so friendly with that Twoleg,” Toadfoot replied.

“So?” Petalfur challenged him. “It got us out of trouble, didn’t it? Oh, yuck!” she added, scraping herself against the nearest tree. “I’m going to stink of Twoleg for a moon!”