Firestar’s Quest

As silently as he could he glided forward, one paw after another, gradually closing the distance between himself and his prey. He was readying himself to pounce when there was a commotion in the bushes and another cat burst out, front paws extended toward the sparrow.

The bird let out a loud alarm call and took off; the newcomer sprang up at once in a tremendous leap. His claws just grazed the sparrow’s wings as it fluttered to safety in a tree. A couple of feathers spiraled down. The cat, a dark brown rogue, stood panting, gazing up at the bird and lashing his tail.

Stiff-legged with fury, Firestar stalked up to him until the two cats were standing nose-to-nose. “That was my prey,” Firestar hissed. His frustration spilled over; he was hungry, he and Sandstorm had traveled all this way to find nothing but empty caves, and now this mangy, crow-food-eating tom had just frightened away his first chance of food that day.

“Rubbish,” the rogue retorted. “It was mine.”

Firestar let out a snort of disgust. “I would have caught it if you hadn’t come crashing through the bushes like that. Has no cat ever taught you to hunt?”

The rogue’s neck fur bristled and he peeled back his lips in a snarl. Firestar arched his back, hissing in anger and flashing out a paw with claws extended. For a heartbeat both cats stood frozen, glaring angrily at each other. Firestar braced himself to spring, but then the rogue flattened his ears and took a couple of paces back. Letting out a last snarl, he whipped around and slunk off down the line of bushes.

“Oh, great!” At the sound of Sandstorm’s voice Firestar turned to see her poking her head out from behind a bramble bush. “We’re supposed to be talking to the local cats, not scaring them off.”

Firestar’s fur grew hot with embarrassment. He glanced after the rogue, only to see the stocky brown shape bounding away along the edge of the gorge.

“Sorry,” he meowed. “I suppose I was a bit hasty. But it should have been obvious that the sparrow was mine.” He gave his chest fur a few quick licks to help himself calm down.

“I’m not used to sharing territory with cats who’ve never heard of the warrior code.”

“Well, you’ll have to get used to it.” Sandstorm emerged from the bush and padded over to him. “You can’t expect the cats here to live by the rules we have at home. I don’t suppose they even know about StarClan.”

Her words chilled Firestar. She was right; they couldn’t expect that StarClan had followed them so far. How could he carry out his mission without his warrior ancestors to protect and guide him? He couldn’t even be sure that SkyClan’s warrior ancestors walked these skies. He glanced up, wondering if the gray-and-white leader was watching him, but nothing broke the white blanket of fog.

Eventually they managed to catch a couple of mice, and headed back toward the cave. As they were weaving their way among the bushes, Firestar heard rustling ahead of them, and picked up a familiar kittypet scent. He flipped the end of his tail across Sandstorm’s mouth for silence, and slipped into the shelter of a gorse bush.

Before many heartbeats had gone by, two cats came into view, thrusting their way through the bushes from the direction of the cliff edge. One was a dark tabby tom, the other a smaller tortoiseshell. Firestar was certain that they were the same two cats who had taunted him the day before.

His paws itched to confront them, but he was too far away to surprise them and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. Besides, if he did speak to them they would probably just deny they had done anything wrong. He let them go back toward the Twolegplace.

“What’s the matter?” Sandstorm batted irritably at his tail.

“I think they’re the cats who threw stones at me yesterday,” Firestar explained. “I need to talk to them, but I want to figure out what to say first.”

He headed for the cave, hoping to settle down and think, but as they scrambled down the steep, slippery trail to the entrance a foul smell rolled out to meet them.

Sandstorm curled her lip. “What’s that disgusting reek?”

She pushed past Firestar and leaped up into the cave.

When Firestar joined her he found her standing over the body of a mouse. It had obviously been dead for days; white maggots were wriggling through the remains of its fur. The stink of it filled the whole cave.

“It must be those kittypets!” Firestar snarled. “I suppose it’s their idea of a joke, leaving crow-food in a cave where cats are living.”

“If I catch them, I’ll show them it’s no joke,” Sandstorm growled.

“Better get it out of here.” Firestar sighed.

Dabbing at it with their paws, they managed to push the mouse out of the cave and over the rocks until it fell down the cliff. Back in the cave, Sandstorm scraped sand over the damp, stinking patch where it had lain.

“It’ll take forever to get rid of the smell,” she complained.

“And it’s all over my paws. I’ll have to go down to the river to wash.”