Tallstar’s Revenge

“Spread your hind legs farther apart,” Talltail advised him. “It’ll give more power to your leap.” He pressed Hopkit’s shoulders lower with his muzzle. “Keep your chin close to the ground. That way you’ll be ready to duck under your enemy if he leaps first. And remember to use your hind legs to push you forward.” He padded around the young tom, stooping to inspect his twisted paw. “Your forepaws are for balance, remember?”

Hopkit was leaning to one side where his twisted paw couldn’t quite hold his weight steadily. The young tom snorted and sat up. “I knew it.” He stared angrily at his odd paw.

“Don’t worry,” Talltail soothed. “Your forepaws need to match each other. You’ll only fall off balance if one is stronger than the other.”

Hopkit frowned. “But one is stronger than the other.”

Talltail shrugged. “Then use the stronger one more lightly.”

Hopkit brightened. “Okay.” He crouched again, adjusting his paws one at a time until he was steady as a rock.

“Perfect.” Talltail was impressed. It was impossible to see the weakness in Hopkit’s twisted paw. “Now try leaping. Don’t forget: Keep your ears flat. And your eyes must be narrowed. In battle there’ll be claws flying at you from all directions.”

Hopkit screwed his eyes to slits and drew his ears close to his head. His haunches quivered for a moment; then he sprang forward. He darted neatly through the air, perfectly balanced.

“Very good!” Talltail praised him as he landed.

“Ow!” Hopkit stumbled, then drew himself up sharply, holding his forepaw high.

“What’s happened?” Talltail rushed to his side. “Did you land badly?” Talltail saw beads of scarlet liquid dripping onto the earth. The strong tang of blood bathed his tongue.

“I landed on a s-stone,” Hopkit whimpered.

Talltail saw a sharp edge of flint sticking up from the ground where the rain had washed away the soil. “Quick, let’s get you to the medicine den.”

Blood was welling fast on Hopkit’s pad, soaking the fur around his claws. Talltail didn’t dare look to see how deeply the flint had torn the young tom’s flesh. He grabbed Hopkit’s scruff between his teeth and hauled him up out of the hollow, ignoring his yowls of protest as he hurried to the medicine den. “Stop struggling, for StarClan’s sake,” he growled through his teeth. He let go at the entrance and nosed Hopkit into the gorse cave.

Barkface looked up from a pile of herbs. “I smell blood.” He trotted over and sniffed Hopkit’s paw.

“Is it bad?” Talltail asked.

“It’s deep.” Barkface darted back across the den and reached through a gap in the branches, hauling out a wad of cobweb and a pawful of leaves. “But I’ll soon get him fixed up.”

“Good.” Hopkit held out his paw. “I want to get back to my training. I’d just worked out a really good attack crouch.”

“No more training for you until this has healed.” Barkface began to fill the wound with herbs. “How did it happen?”

“There are sharp stones in the Meeting Hollow.” Talltail glanced through the den entrance and caught sight of Shrewclaw. He ducked outside. “Shrewclaw!”

The warrior was padding toward the long grass with Ryestalk at his side. He stopped when Talltail called out. “What?”

“There are stones sticking up all across the Meeting Hollow.” Talltail nodded toward the dip.

Shrewclaw followed his gaze. “How did they get there?”

“The rain’s washed the soil away,” Talltail explained. “Hopkit just cut himself on one.”

Ryestalk frowned. “That’s dangerous.”

Talltail nodded to Shrewclaw. “Can you organize a patrol to dig them out?”

Shrewclaw narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you do it?”

“I want to keep an eye on Hopkit.”

Ryestalk nudged Shrewclaw. “Come on. Talltail’s right. We need to clear the hollow before another cat gets hurt.” She hurried across the tussocks to where Stagleap and Appledawn were sharing prey in the shelter of the heather wall.

Shrewclaw padded after her. “We should ask Hickorynose and Mistmouse to help,” he muttered. “They’re used to digging.”

As Talltail turned back to the medicine den, the ground trembled. Paws were thrumming beyond the camp wall. The heather shivered as Plumclaw burst into the camp. Woollytail, Larksplash, and Cloudrunner thundered after her, skidding to a halt on the wet grass.

“ShadowClan!” Plumclaw gasped. Her flanks were heaving.

Heatherstar raced around the rim of the Hollow and stopped beside Talltail. “What’s happened?”

Reedfeather limped from the long grass, pelt bristling. “Have they crossed the border?”

“As good as,” Cloudrunner growled. “They’ve left scent marks on the brambles at Fourtrees.”

Heatherstar’s gaze sharpened. “What’s wrong with that?”

Woollytail lifted his chin. “They’ve drenched it in scent markers, right on the boundary.”

“It’s deliberate provocation,” Larksplash added.

Heatherstar narrowed her eyes. “But they haven’t crossed the border.”

“They didn’t need to,” Plumclaw snarled. “Their scent’s done it for them. Our land smells like ShadowClan territory.”

Shrewclaw’s pelt spiked. “We should send a patrol to scent their borders!”

Ryestalk twitched her tail. “I’ll go!”