Tallstar’s Revenge

“Well?” Heatherstar glared at the tunnelers, her tail flicking. “Who’s coming to the Gathering?”

Hickorynose sighed. “I will.”

Heatherstar had nodded. “Then you’d better get some rest.”

Now, in the moonlight, Tallpaw thought Hickorynose still looked tired despite his sleep. He yawned as Cloudrunner complained to Stagleap.

“The gorge tunnel will be as steep as a cliff,” the pale gray moor runner fretted. “You won’t get me down it.”

Stagleap shrugged. “Tallpaw said it’s not that steep.”

“He says they dug the slope long and shallow,” added Doespring.

“Yes, it’s not too bad,” Tallpaw meowed.

Cloudrunner turned and stared at Tallpaw. “You’ve been down it?”

“He helped dig it out,” Stagleap announced.

Tallpaw shifted his paws uncomfortably as he remembered how terrified he’d been with the river roaring at his tail like an angry swarm of bees. And Sandgorse still wanted him to be a tunneler. Just because it’s right for him doesn’t make it right for me!

“Ready?” Dawnstripe’s mew surprised him.

“Ready?” Tallpaw echoed, lost in his own thoughts.

Dawnstripe rolled her eyes. “The Gathering, remember?”

Heatherstar was already heading out of the camp.

“Of course I remember!” Tallpaw glanced at the bracken patch. Was Sandgorse watching him leave for his first Gathering? He scanned the nests for eyes flashing in the darkness, but there was no sign of any cats looking at him. Tallpaw glanced at the nursery, relieved to see Palebird sliding out of the gorse.

She nodded to him. “Good luck, Tallpaw.”

“Good luck, Tallpaw,” Shrewpaw mimicked.

Barkpaw growled at his brother. “Leave him alone. It’s his first Gathering!”

“Poor little Wormpaw has to go without his mother.”

Tallpaw unsheathed his claws.

“Come on.” Dawnstripe nosed her apprentice away from his denmate.

Growling under his breath, Tallpaw followed Stagleap through the heather. Doespring met him on the grass clearing outside camp, Ryestalk at her side. “Are you excited?” Her amber eyes were bright. It was her first Gathering as a warrior.

Tallpaw shrugged. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Ryestalk followed Cloudrunner and Hareflight across the grass. “It’ll be great!” she called, disappearing into the heather.

Hawkheart shadowed Whiteberry and Flamepelt, his sharp gaze flicking over the elders. “You should be resting in your nest, Whiteberry,” he muttered.

“I’m not letting a few aching joints keep me away from a Gathering,” Whiteberry rasped.

“I gave him the heather blossom we gathered.” Barkpaw trotted after his mentor.

Hawkheart’s gaze narrowed. “How much?”

“Half a pawful, soaked in water. Like you showed me.”

Hawkheart nodded. “Well done.” His gaze flicked back to Whiteberry. “Has it helped?”

“I was fine before.” Whiteberry limped along the trail after his Clanmates. “Don’t waste your herbs on me.”

“Poor Barkpaw.” Shrewpaw stopped beside Doespring. “Imagine spending your life listening to elders complain.”

“He’s had plenty of practice, growing up in a nest with you,” Doespring meowed sharply. Shrewpaw scowled at her and trotted ahead to catch up to Barkpaw.

Stagleap ripped at the grass. “Hurry up, Tallpaw!” Beyond him, the heather rippled as WindClan moved though it.

“What’s Fourtrees like?” Tallpaw meowed.

“Weird.” Stagleap shouldered his way through the bushes.

Tallpaw slid after him, following the trail. “How?”

“You’ll see.”

Doespring was pushing at Tallpaw’s heels. “Should we race?”

“No thanks.” Tallpaw wasn’t in the mood for running.

Stagleap glanced back, his eyes flashing in the darkness. “I’ll race you!”

Tallpaw leaned aside to let Doespring pass. “See you there!” she called as she broke into a run. The two warriors hared away, their paws thrumming the ground. Tallpaw trudged after them, following their scent through the heather.

Paw steps sounded behind him. “I thought you loved racing?” Dawnstripe had caught up to him.

“I don’t feel like it,” Tallpaw murmured.

Dawnstripe walked in silence for a few moments. “What’s the matter?” she asked at last.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve been in a bad mood since you went tunneling yesterday.”

“So?”

“So, you hardly heard a word I said in training today,” she persisted. “You didn’t even try to outstalk Shrewpaw, and your hunting stance was the worst I’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe I’m not meant to be a moor runner.” Tallpaw let gloom swamp him.

“Don’t be silly.” Dawnstripe was brisk. “You’re the best runner I’ve seen. Now, tell me what happened in the tunnels that upset you. Is it Sandgorse?”

Tallpaw sighed. “He didn’t even see me off to my first Gathering.”

“It’s going to take Sandgorse time to accept that you want to be a moor runner,” Dawnstripe told him. “No cat can change his feelings overnight.”

“Doesn’t he want what’s best for me?” Tallpaw asked crossly.

“Of course he does,” Dawnstripe meowed. “But he still thinks being a tunneler is best for you.”

“Is he right?” Tallpaw’s belly tightened.

“Do you want to train as a tunneler?” Dawnstripe prompted.