Tallstar’s Revenge

How could I forget? Talltail’s fur rippled along his spine. It was his first real evidence that he was on the trail of the rogues. If it is the rogues. He broke into a run. He recognized Sparrow’s scent before he’d even reached the beech where the rogues had sheltered. Loosened by the mild frost, the smell flooded the damp air, stale but clear. Talltail skidded to a halt beside the flattened leaves where the rogues had clearly spent more than one night. In the pale dawn light he noticed the bones of prey scattered nearby and spotted a thin film of fur clinging to the craggy bark at the base of the tree.

Jake stopped beside him, panting. “I thought I’d lost you for a moment,” he puffed.

“I had to know if it was them.” Talltail stood with his legs braced, his old rage surging back as Sparrow’s scent filled his nose. He could taste Reena’s scent too, and Bess’s. A pang tugged his heart as he remembered how welcoming he’d been when the rogues had first arrived. How could he have been so foolish and trusting? He should have known they were trouble the moment they set paw on WindClan territory. Why didn’t his Clanmates understand the threat of letting strangers into the camp? Rabbit-brains! They believed the rogues were their friends, even after Sparrow had caused Sandgorse’s death! Talltail curled his claws into the soft earth, a growl rumbling in his throat. I’ll make you sorry!

“Talltail?” Jake was staring at him. “Are you okay?”

Talltail flicked the tip of his tail. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “I just want to find those cats.”

Jake dipped his head. “We’ll find them,” he promised.

Talltail paced the edge of the abandoned nest until he found a scent trail leading away between the trees. It was old, but still strong enough to track. Pelt pricking, he began to follow it.

“Where are we going?” Jake called.

“Can’t you smell their trail?”

Jake caught up. “I can only smell trees and leaves.” He stuck out his tongue. “There are so many new scents out here. It’s hard to tell them apart.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Talltail glanced at Jake, suddenly realizing that the tom was supposed to be going home. “Aren’t you heading back to Twolegplace?” he asked.

Jake blinked at him. “What? Now that we’ve found the trail? I can’t leave you to face Sparrow alone.”

“But this is my mission. I should…” Talltail’s mew trailed away. He didn’t want Jake to go. He searched the kittypet’s green gaze. “You don’t have to come.”

“I want to!” Jake shifted his paws, adding quietly, “If you don’t mind, that is.”

Talltail glanced at the ground, feeling hot. “I don’t mind,” he murmured. “It’s good to have company.”

“That’s settled, then.” Jake marched away, tail high. “I know it’s your mission, and I won’t put my whiskers where they don’t belong.” He plunged past a clump of shriveled ferns. “But I can help you track Sparrow down. After that, it’s up to you.”

Talltail purred. “Thanks, Jake.” He tasted the air. “Er, you do know that you’re heading the wrong way, don’t you?” The scent trail headed along a ridge in the forest floor. Jake was tramping uphill, veering away through the trees.

Jake stopped and tasted the air. “I am?” His ears flattened. “Maybe you should lead the way,” he mewed.

Amused, Talltail headed along the ridge, his paws slipping on the layer of decaying leaves. He was used to grass and peat, firm turf that sprang beneath his feet. Jake trotted beside him, more at ease with the slippery trail, until brambles started to crowd the path.

“Ow!” Jake tripped over a prickly tendril, hopping on three legs and shaking his injured paw.

“Are you okay?” Talltail stopped and sniffed Jake’s leg. No blood scent.

“I’d be better if that hadn’t tripped me up.” Jake glared at the bramble.

Talltail scanned the woods. The scent trail headed through bracken where fallen branches and rotting logs crisscrossed the forest floor, echoing the tangled canopy above. The rogues seemed to tackle every obstacle head-on, moving forward regardless of the territory.

“Come on.” Talltail padded around the bramble, watching for spiky tendrils. He hopped over a fallen branch and pushed his way into the bracken. Broken stems showed the rogues’ trail, tainted with their scent. A decaying tree lay across the path and he scrambled over it, his paws slipping on the slimy moss. On the other side, the ground turned boggy. Talltail slowed as the sucking mud dragged at his paws.

“I thought you said that rogues chose the easiest path,” Jake grunted, shaking mud from his forepaw.

“It was probably frozen when they passed,” Talltail guessed.

“Can you tell how old the scents are?” Jake scrambled onto harder ground and shook crumbs of leaf litter from his whiskers.

“No. The smell’s quite fresh,” Talltail told him. “But the frost might have preserved it.” He glanced at the sky, gray above the treetops. “Come on.” He pulled his paws free of the cloying mud. “If it starts raining, the scents might be washed away.”