Tallstar’s Revenge

“Go!” Ryestalk crashed away through the heather.

Stagleap chose a wider course, skirting the bushes and charging for the stretch of grass beyond. Grass makes for easier running. Tallpaw raced after Stagpaw. His paws skidded in the dew as he swerved around the heather. Ryestalk exploded from the bushes beside him as he veered onto Stagleap’s trail. She whisked past him with a yowl of triumph. Tallpaw dug in his claws and pushed harder.

The ground sloped steeply ahead of them. Ryestalk pounded over the grass but she couldn’t match her brother’s strength. Stagleap streaked higher. Stretching farther with each stride, Tallpaw found his rhythm until he was skimming the ground, hardly touching it with his paws. Wind streamed through his whiskers as he ran past Ryestalk. Stagleap was only a tail-length ahead. The top of the moor loomed above him, the blue sky stretching out endlessly beyond.

As Tallpaw drew closer, Stagleap crested the rise and began to charge down the other side. Tallpaw glanced back. Ryestalk was lagging but she put on a spurt of energy to crest the rise and hurtled down after them. The slope gave Stagleap an extra burst of speed. His wide shoulders and stocky build might slow him uphill, but here he could use his strength to race harder than ever.

Tallpaw lengthened his stride, but Stagpaw was pulling farther ahead. As the slope flattened out beside the Thunderpath, the young warrior slowed to a halt and lifted his tail in victory.

“Nice try,” Stagleap puffed as Tallpaw reached him.

“I’ll get you one day,” Tallpaw panted.

Ryestalk pulled up beside them. “I’m hopeless on grass!” She struggled to get her breath. “I’d rather sprint over rabbit trails.”

“You’re better at twists and turns,” Stagleap agreed. “Next time we’ll race through heather.”

The Thunderpath glittered in the sunshine a few tail-lengths away. Tallpaw looked along it as he caught his breath. He’d never been this close. “Where are the monsters?” It was deserted.

“They come later,” Stagleap told him.

Ryestalk glanced over her shoulder. “We’ve passed the scent line.”

Tallpaw tasted the air. The acrid tang of the Thunderpath mingled with stale WindClan scent.

“Let’s start resetting the markers.” Stagleap turned back. “Before Larksplash gets hissy.”

As Tallpaw followed, he spotted Dawnstripe’s golden pelt flash farther up the slope. She was bounding toward him, her tail bushed. “I don’t want to see you so near to the Thunderpath again!” she snapped as she reached him.

Tallpaw stared at her in surprise. “But it’s deserted.”

“Monsters travel as fast as birds. And they’re bigger than you can imagine.” Dawnstripe glared at him.

“But it’s—”

Dawnstripe narrowed her eyes. “When I tell you something, you listen; you don’t argue.”

Tallpaw’s throat tightened with anger but he swallowed it back. I can’t wait to be a warrior!

Tallpaw helped the young moor runners to mark the border that ran level with the Thunderpath, following the high-moor toward the gorge.

I’m bored. Tallpaw stopped to spray another clump of heather. Wearily he watched Larksplash double back to follow yet another scent trail that had crossed the boundary. At this rate, they’d be marking borders till nightfall.

“Is that RiverClan?” Dawnstripe called after Larksplash.

The tortoiseshell warrior sniffed the heather. “Just a Twoleg.”

“Did they have a dog with them?” Ryestalk hurried to taste the scent.

Larksplash shook her head.

Stagleap climbed a hummock and lifted his chin. “There’s been no dog on this part of the moor in a moon.”

Ryestalk looked at him. “Since you started patrolling, I suppose.”

“Can we keep moving?” Tallpaw’s legs itched. He wanted to run. Why couldn’t they find a fresh rabbit scent—something he could chase?

Stagleap bounded from the hummock and marched along the scent line, tail high. “They’re scared of my scent.”

“Who are?” Tallpaw was puzzled. “Rabbits?”

Stagleap flashed him a look. “Dogs!”

Tallpaw snorted, ducking as Stagleap launched a play attack and swiped his ears.

“We’re patrolling the border,” Dawnstripe reminded them sternly.

Tallpaw frowned. Weren’t they allowed to have any fun? He stopped and sprayed a gorse stem halfheartedly.

In the distance he could hear water. At least they were nearly at the gorge. After that, they could head for camp and do some proper training. He followed Larksplash as she disappeared into a patch of heather. He pushed through the whippy branches, the rest of the patrol at his heels. The path wound through hummocks, spiky twigs pressing in on all sides. The pollen-heavy blossom made Tallpaw sneeze, and he was relieved when the heather opened onto grass near the cliff top.

Larksplash, Ryestalk, and Dawnstripe fanned out and sniffed at the scent line that ran along the top of the gorge. Tallpaw crept forward and peered over the edge. Greenleaf had calmed the water and it flowed smoothly far below, winding between the cliffs. “Is it deep?” he asked Stagleap.