CHAPTER 10

By the following morning, a thin drizzle soaked the treetops

and dripped down into the camp.

Firepaw woke up feeling damp. It had been an

uncomfortable night. He stood up and shook himself

vigorously, fluffing out his fur. Then he left the apprentices’

den and trotted across the clearing to Yel owfang’s nest.

Yel owfang was just stirring. She lifted her head and

squinted at Firepaw as he approached. “My bones ache

this morning. Has it been raining al night? ”

“Since just after moonhigh, ” Firepaw replied. He

reached out and prodded her mossy nest cautiously. “Your

bedding is soaking wet. Why don’t you move nearer to the

nursery? It’s more sheltered there. ”

“What? And be kept awake al night by those mewling

kits! I’d rather get wet! ” Yel owfang growled.

Firepaw watched her circle stiffly on her mossy bed.

“Then at least let me fetch you some dry bedding, ” he

offered, keen to drop the subject of kits if it upset the old

she-cat so much.

“Thank you, Firepaw, ” replied Yel owfang quietly, settling

down again.

Firepaw felt stunned. He wondered if Yel owfang was

feeling al right. It was the first time she had thanked him for

anything, and the first time she had not cal ed him kittypet.

“Wel, don’t just stand there like a startled squirrel; go

and fetch some moss! ” she snapped.

Firepaw’s whiskers twitched with amusement. This was

more like the Yel owfang he was used to. He nodded and

sprinted off.

He almost crashed into Speckletail in the middle of the

clearing. This was the queen who had watched

Yel owfang’s angry outburst at the tabby kit the day before.

“Sorry, Speckletail, ” Firepaw mewed. “Are you on your

way to see Yel owfang? ”

“What would I want with that unnatural creature? ” replied

Speckletail crossly. “Actual y it’s you I was looking for.

Bluestar wants to see you. ”

Firepaw hurried toward the Highrock and Bluestar’s den.

Bluestar was sitting outside, her head bobbing

rhythmical y as she licked the gray fur below her throat. She

paused when she noticed Firepaw. “How is Yel owfang

today? ” she meowed.

“Her bedding is wet, so I was going to fetch her more, ”

Firepaw replied.

“I’l ask one of the queens to see to that. ” Bluestar gave

her chest another lick, and then eyed Firepaw careful y. “Is

she fit enough to hunt for herself yet? ” she asked.

“I don’t think so, ” Firepaw meowed, “but she can walk

wel enough now. ”

“I see, ” meowed Bluestar. She looked thoughtful for a

moment. “It is time for you to return to your training,

Firepaw. But you’l need to work hard to make up for time

you have lost. ”

“Great! I mean, thank you, Bluestar! ” Firepaw

stammered.

“You wil go out with Tigerclaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw

this morning, ” Bluestar continued. “I’ve asked Tigerclaw to

assess the warrior skil s of al our apprentices. Don’t worry

about Yel owfang; I’l make sure someone sees to her while

you are gone. ”

Firepaw nodded.

“Now, join your companions, ” Bluestar ordered. “I expect

they’re waiting for you. ”

“Thank you, Bluestar, ” Firepaw mewed. He turned with a

flick of his tail and darted toward his den.

Bluestar was right; Graypaw and Ravenpaw were both

waiting for him by their favorite tree stump. Graypaw looked

stiff and uncomfortable, his long fur clumped by the

dampness of the air. Ravenpaw was pacing around the

tree stump, lost in thought, the white tip of his tail twitching.

“So, you’re joining us today! ” Graypaw cal ed as

Firepaw approached. “Some day, huh? ” He shook himself

roughly to get rid of the clinging wetness.

“Yes. Bluestar told me that Tigerclaw is going to assess

us today. Are Sandpaw and Dustpaw coming too? ”

“Whitestorm and Darkstripe took them out on warrior

patrol. I suppose Tigerclaw is going to look at them later, ”

Graypaw answered.

“Come on! We should get going, ” urged Ravenpaw. He

had stopped pacing and now hovered beside them

anxiously.

“Fine by me, ” mewed Graypaw. “Hopeful y some

exercise wil warm me up a bit! ”

The three cats trotted through the gorse track and out of

the camp. They hurried to the sandy hol ow. Tigerclaw had

not arrived, so they hung around in the shelter of a pine

tree, their fur fluffed up against the chil.

“Are you worried about the assessment? ” Firepaw

asked Ravenpaw, as the young cat padded backward and

forward with quick, nervous pawsteps. “There’s no need to

be. You’re Tigerclaw’s apprentice, after al. When he

reports back to Bluestar, he’s going to want to tel her how

good you are. ”

“You can never tel with Tigerclaw, ” mewed Ravenpaw,

stil pacing.

“For goodness’ sake, sit down, ” Graypaw grumbled. “At

this rate you’l be worn out before we begin! ”

By the time Tigerclaw arrived, the sky had changed. The

clouds looked less like thick gray fur, and more like the soft

white bal s of down that queens used to line the nests of

their newborns. Blue skies couldn’t be far behind, but the

breeze that brought the softer clouds carried a fresh chil.

Tigerclaw greeted them briskly and launched straight

into the exercise details. “Lionheart and I have spent the

last few weeks trying to teach you how to hunt decently, ” he

meowed. “Today you’l have a chance to show me how

much you have learned. Each of you wil take a different

route and hunt as much prey as possible. And whatever you

catch wil be added to the supplies in the camp. ”

The three apprentices looked at one another, nervous

and excited. Firepaw felt his heart begin to beat faster at

the prospect of a chal enge.

“Ravenpaw, you wil fol ow the trail beyond the Great

Sycamore as far as the Snakerocks. That should be easy

enough for your pitiful skil s. You, Graypaw, ” Tigerclaw

continued, “wil take the route along the stream, as far as

the Thunderpath. ”

“Great, ” mewed Graypaw. “Wet paws for me! ”

Tigerclaw’s stare silenced him.

“And final y you, Firepaw. What a shame your great

mentor couldn’t be here today to witness your performance

for herself. You shal take the route through the Tal pines,

past the Treecut place, to the woods beyond. ”

Firepaw nodded, frantical y tracing the route in his head.

“And remember, ” Tigerclaw finished, fixing them al with

his pale-eyed stare, “I shal be watching al of you. ”

Ravenpaw was the first to sprint away toward the

Snakerocks. Tigerclaw took a different track into the

woods, leaving Graypaw and Firepaw alone in the hol ow,

trying to guess who Tigerclaw would fol ow first.

“I don’t know why he thinks Snakerocks is an easy

route! ” mewed Graypaw. “The place is crawling with

adders. Birds and mice stay away from there because

there are so many snakes! ”

“Ravenpaw’l have to spend his whole time trying not to

get bitten, ” Firepaw agreed.

“Oh, he’l be okay, ” mewed Graypaw. “Not even an

adder would be fast enough to catch Ravenpaw at the

moment, he’s so jumpy. I’d better get going. See you back

here later on. Good luck! ”

Graypaw raced off toward the stream. Firepaw paused

to sniff the air, then bounded up the side of the hol ow and

began to head for the Tal pines.

It felt strange to be going in this direction, toward the

Twoleg place he had been raised in. Cautiously Firepaw

crossed the narrow path into the pine forest. He looked

through the straight rows of trees, across the flat forest

floor, alert for the sight and scent of prey.

A movement caught his eye. It was a mouse, scrabbling

through the pine needles. Remembering his first lesson,

Firepaw dropped into the stalking position, keeping his

weight in his haunches, his paws light on the ground. The

technique worked perfectly. The mouse didn’t detect

Firepaw until his final leap. He caught it with one paw and

kil ed it swiftly. Then he buried it, so that he could pick it up

on his return journey.

Firepaw traveled a little farther into the Tal pines. The

ground here was deeply rutted by the tracks of the huge

Twoleg monster that tore down the trees. Firepaw took a

deep breath, his mouth open. The monster’s acid breath

had not touched the air here for a while.

Firepaw fol owed the deep tracks, jumping across the

ruts. They were half-fil ed with rain, which made him feel

thirsty. He was tempted to stop and take a few mouthfuls,

but he hesitated. One lap of that muddy trench water and

he’d taste the monster’s foul-smel ing tracks for days.

He decided to wait. Perhaps there would be a rainwater

puddle beyond the Tal pines. He hurried onward through the

trees and crossed the Twoleg path on the far boundary.

He was back amid the thick undergrowth of oak woods.

He moved onward until he found a puddle and lapped up a

few mouthfuls of the fresh water. Firepaw’s fur began to

prickle with some extra awareness. He recognized sounds

and scents familiar from his old watching place on the

fence post, and knew instantly where he was. These were

the woods that bordered the Twolegplace. He must be very

close to his old home now.

Ahead Firepaw could smel Twolegs and hear their

voices, loud and raucous like crows. It was a group of

young Twolegs, playing in the woods. Firepaw crouched

and peered ahead through the ferns. The sounds were

distant enough to be safe. He changed direction, skirting

the noises, making sure he was not seen.

Firepaw stayed alert and watchful, but not just for

Twolegs—Tigerclaw might be somewhere nearby. He

thought he heard a twig snap in the bushes behind him. He

sniffed the air, but smel ed nothing new. Was he being

watched now? he wondered.

Out of the corner of his eye, Firepaw sensed movement.

At first he thought it was Tigerclaw’s dark brown fur, but

then he saw a flash of white. He stopped, crouched, and

inhaled deeply. The smel was unfamiliar; it was a cat, but

not a ThunderClan cat. Firepaw felt his fur bristle with the

instincts of a Clan warrior. He would have to chase the

intruder out of ThunderClan territory!

Firepaw watched the creature moving through the

undergrowth. He could see its outline clearly as it skittered

between the ferns. Firepaw waited for it to wander nearer.

He crouched lower, his tail waving back and forth in slow

rhythm. As the black-and-white cat neared, Firepaw rocked

his haunches from side to side as he prepared to spring.

One more heartbeat; then he leaped.

The black-and-white cat jumped into the air, terrified,

and raced away through the trees. Firepaw gave chase.

It’s a kittypet! he thought as he raced through the

undergrowth, smel ing its fear-scent. In my territory! He was

closing in rapidly on the fleeing animal. It had slowed its

headlong rush, preparing to scramble up the wide, mossy

trunk of a fal en tree. With the blood roaring in his ears,

Firepaw leaped onto its back in a single bound.

Firepaw could feel the cat struggling beneath him as he

gripped on with al his claws. It let out a desperate and

terrified yowl.

Firepaw released his grip and backed away. The black-

and-white cat cringed at the foot of the fal en tree,

trembling, and looked up at him. Firepaw lifted his nose,

feeling a ripple of disgust at the intruder’s easy surrender.

This soft, plump house cat, with its round eyes and narrow

face, looked very different from the lean, broad-headed

cats Firepaw lived with now. And yet something about this

cat seemed familiar.

Firepaw stared harder. He sniffed, drawing in the other

cat’s scent. I don’t recognize the smell, he thought,

searching his memory.

Then it came to him.

“Smudge! ” he meowed out loud.

“H-ho-how d-d-do you know my n-name? ” stammered

Smudge, stil crouching.

“It’s me! ” Firepaw meowed.

The house cat looked confused.

“We were kittens together. I lived in the garden next to

you! ” Firepaw insisted.

“Rusty? ” mewled Smudge in disbelief. “Is that you? Did

you find the wildcats again? Or are you living with new

housefolk? You must be, if you’re stil alive! ”

“I’m cal ed Firepaw now, ” Firepaw meowed. He relaxed

his shoulders and let his fur fal flat into a sleek orange pelt.

Smudge relaxed too. His ears pricked up. “Firepaw? ” he

echoed, amused. “Wel, Firepaw, it looks like your new

housefolk don’t feed you enough! You certainly weren’t this

scrawny last time we met! ”

“I don’t need Twolegs to feed me, ” Firepaw replied. “I’ve

got a whole forest of food to eat. ”

“Twolegs? ”

“Housefolk. That’s what the Clans cal them. ”

Smudge looked bewildered for a second; then his

expression changed to one of complete astonishment. “You

mean you’re real y living with the wildcats? ”

“Yes! ” Firepaw paused. “You know, you smel …different.

Unfamiliar. ”

“Unfamiliar? ” Smudge echoed. He sniffed. “I suppose

you’re used to the smel of those wildcats now. ”

Firepaw shook his head, as if to clear his mind. “But we

were kittens together. I should know your smel like I’d know

the smel of my birth mother. ” Then Firepaw remembered.

Smudge had passed six moons. No wonder he looked so

soft and fat, and smel ed so strange. “You’ve been to the

Cutter! ” He gasped. “I mean, the vet! ”

Smudge shrugged his plump black shoulders. “So? ” he

mewed.

Firepaw was speechless. So Bluestar was right.

“Come on, then! What’s it like, living wild? ” Smudge

demanded. “Is it as good as you thought it’d be? ”

Firepaw thought for a moment: about last night, sleeping

in a damp den. He thought about mouse bile and clearing

away Yel owfang’s dirt, and trying to please both Lionheart

and Tigerclaw at once during training. He remembered the

teasing he suffered about his kittypet blood. Then he

remembered the thril of his first catch, of charging through

the forest in pursuit of a squirrel, and of warm evenings

beneath the stars sharing tongues with his friends.

“I know who I am now, ” he meowed simply.

Smudge tipped his head to one side and stared at

Firepaw, clearly confused. “I should be getting home, ” he

mewed. “Mealtime soon. ”

“Go careful y, Smudge. ” Firepaw leaned forward and

gave his old friend an affectionate lick between the ears.

Smudge nuzzled him in return. “And stay alert. There may

be another cat in the area who is not as fond of kittypets—I

mean, house cats—as I am. ”

Smudge’s ears flicked nervously at these words. He

looked around cautiously and leaped up onto the trunk of

the fal en tree. “Good-bye, Rusty, ” he mewed. “I’l tel

everyone at home that you’re okay! ”

“’Bye, Smudge, ” meowed Firepaw. “Enjoy your meal! ”

He watched the white tip of Smudge’s tail disappear

over the edge of the tree. In the distance he could hear the

rattle of dried food being shaken, and a Twoleg voice

cal ing.

Firepaw turned, his tail high, and started back toward his

own home, sniffing the air as he went. I’ll find a finch or two

here, he decided. Then I’ll catch something else on the

way back through the pines. He felt bursting with energy

after meeting Smudge and realizing just how lucky he was

to live in the Clan.

He looked up at the branches above him and began to

stalk silently across the forest floor, every sense alert. Now

he just needed to impress Bluestar and Tigerclaw, and the

day would be perfect.