Tallstar’s Revenge

Jake stopped at the top and gazed across the moor. “Why did you ever want to leave?” he whispered. The heather rocked in the blustery wind, the wide swathes of grass streaming around it.

Talltail couldn’t reply. The border was only tail-lengths away. The scent of it seemed to reach deep into his chest. I left because I don’t belong here. But the words rang hollow in his ears. As the scents of wind and heather filled his nose, he felt a sense of belonging stronger than he’d ever felt. Cloudrunner had passed this way recently. And Dawnstripe. He could smell their trail. Larksplash, too. Talltail’s heart began to race. “I can’t go home!” He stared in panic at Jake. “They won’t want me! I broke the warrior code when I left my Clan. They’ll drive me away again!”

“Are you sure?” Jake padded around him, pelt ruffled by the wind. “You won’t know unless you go back.”

Talltail closed his eyes. Was the wind tugging him onto the moor, or was it the pull of home? His heart ached to see the camp again. And Palebird. Had the kits grown? They must have. They’d be eating fresh-kill by now. Perhaps he wouldn’t be too late to give them their first taste of lapwing.

“This is your home, Talltail.” Jake’s breath touched his ear fur. His green eyes glistened. “This is where you belong. Listen to your heart.”

WindClan. Longing seared through his chest. “I know,” Talltail whispered.

Jake touched Talltail’s cheek with his muzzle. “I’ll miss you.”

Talltail gasped. “Don’t go! Come with me! Come and meet my Clan!”

Jake stepped back. “This is where you belong, not me.” His mew was hardly more than a whisper. “My home is with my housefolk. He’ll be wondering where I am.”

Talltail’s throat tightened. “Will I ever see you again?”

Jake glanced over his shoulder toward the far horizon. “Who knows? Maybe.”

Hope flared in Talltail’s chest. “Become a warrior!” he blurted. “You’d be great! You learned how to hunt so quickly. And you can fight foxes!”

Jake dropped his gaze. “No, Talltail. I wouldn’t be happy.”

“You wouldn’t be happy with me?” Pain stabbed Talltail’s heart.

Jake lifted his eyes. “I can’t live as a warrior.” He looked away, his mew cracking. “But I’ll always remember you. You’ve shown me a life that I’ve always dreamed about. But now I know where I truly belong.”

“Then I’ll come with you and live in Twolegplace!” Talltail wanted to do anything to stop the pain in his heart.

“Don’t be rabbit-brained!” Jake’s eyes flashed. “You hate it there! You’d be so unhappy.” He paused, his tone softening. “I’d hate for you to be unhappy.”

“Then why are you leaving?” Talltail pleaded. “You’re the best friend I ever had.”

“I’ll always be your friend, Talltail,” Jake meowed. “But I’m a kittypet, and you’re a warrior.” He stepped forward and rested his muzzle on Talltail’s head. “You’ll always be a warrior.”

Chapter 40

You’ll always be a warrior. Jake’s words echoed in Talltail’s mind as he headed up the hill toward the WindClan camp. The kittypet had assured him he’d be okay going back through the woods.

“I’ll follow our trail through the brambles,” Jake had promised. “I’ll be fine.”

Talltail trusted him. Jake wasn’t a rabbit-brain. He’d learned enough to travel silently and keep his ears and nose open for signs of warrior patrols. Will I be fine, too? The idea of walking into his old home suddenly seemed far scarier than retracing his steps through enemy territory. Will they take me back?

Talltail forced his fur to smooth along his spine. He could smell his Clanmates all around him. Every tuft of heather carried familiar scents. Redclaw, Aspenfall, Mistmouse, and Appledawn had passed along this grassy track not long ago. Talltail imagined their paw prints still warm on the grass. He gazed across the swathe of dusky heather. Darker clumps of gorse grew up ahead, marking one end of the WindClan camp.

His heart pounded like rabbit paws on hollow ground. He pricked his ears. The wind blustered over the moor-top; far away a buzzard’s wings beat the air, and closer, the tiny, excited squeal of a kit shrilled through the air. Wrenkit!

Happiness flashed through Talltail’s paws. The brown she-kit had been less than a moon when he’d left. She must be over two moons old by now. He could hear her calling to her littermate.

“Flykit! Come and look!”

“I’m coming!”

Talltail paused. It sounded like the kits were out of camp, their mews as clear as birdcalls beyond the heather. He slid between the branches and crept forward, peering through the stems.

Wrenkit was sniffing at the entrance to a rabbit burrow. “Should we go in?”

Flykit blinked, huge-eyed. “It’s very dark down there.”

“We can use our noses and whiskers to find our way.”