Tallstar’s Revenge

“No!” The word burst from Tallpaw before he had a chance to think. “Never! I don’t want to spend my life in the dark with soil in my fur and mud in my claws!”

“Okay.” Dawnstripe padded steadily beside him. “So you’re going to have to put up with Sandgorse’s disappointment. You can’t change the way he feels. The only thing you can change is how you feel.”

“I feel bad.”

“But not bad enough to become a tunneler just to please Sandgorse.”

“I guess not.” Tallpaw followed the trail as it wound out from the heather. Moonlight shone on the slope ahead.

Dawnstripe kept pace with him, her long strides carrying her easily over the flattened grass. “Then let Sandgorse sulk if he wants to, and concentrate on becoming the best moor runner you can be. Your Clan needs good warriors, and I think you can become one of the best.”

Tallpaw glanced at his mentor. “Really?”

Paw steps thrummed toward them. “Come on!” Stagleap slowed to a halt in front of them. “I’ve already beaten Doespring to the top of the hollow.”

Doespring charged up behind him. “You did not!”

“Okay,” Stagleap conceded. “You were a whisker ahead.” He blinked at Tallpaw. “Heatherstar and the others are waiting for you to join them before they go down. Hawkheart’s getting restless.”

Dawnstripe bounded forward. “Quick, Tallpaw. It’s your first Gathering. Enjoy it!” She hared away over the grass with Stagleap and Doespring on her tail.

Tallpaw raced after. He caught up to his Clanmates at the top of a steep slope. Ahead, treetops swished in the moonlight. The air was thick with the taste of earth and thick, damp foliage. Fourtrees.

“You took your time,” Hawkheart growled.

“Sorry.” Tallpaw peered into the trees, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The ground sloped steeply away beneath his paws, and through gaps between the trunks, he could make out a clearing filled with moonlight.

“Let’s go.” Heatherstar flicked her tail and the WindClan warriors streamed down the slope.

Tallpaw bounded after them, feeling the soft grass give way to crumbly earth. Ferns swished against his pelt and brambles twitched as he hopped over their trailing branches. As he reached the foot of the slope, he slowed to a stop. Four gigantic oaks stood in the center of the hollow, their trunks thicker than Tallrock back in the WindClan camp. Above his head, branches creaked. Tallpaw pressed his ears flat, unnerved by the noise. Even when the wind howled across the moor, the heather only whispered in reply. The bark of the trees glowed silver, and the canopy of leaves blocked out the sky until the wind tugged at them, revealing glimpses of stars.

“We’re the first!” Doespring stopped beside him. “Look!” Her mew echoed around the walls of the hollow. “It’s the Great Rock.”

Tallpaw followed her gaze, his heart quickening as he saw the stone looming palely in the shadows, bigger than any boulder on the moor. As the branches moved overhead, moonlight dappled the rock. Tallpaw tensed as he felt the ground tremble. Was the Great Rock alive?

“Someone’s coming!” called a voice behind him.

Doespring tasted the air. “It’s ThunderClan.”

As she spoke, dark shapes bounded down the far slope. Their paw steps set the earth shaking as they spilled into the hollow. Tallpaw backed away. He’d never seen such huge cats, wide-shouldered and stocky with long fur and sharp claws that glinted at the ends of their toes.

“Greetings, Heatherstar.” A fox-furred tom, his muzzle crisscrossed with old scars, dipped his head to the WindClan leader.

“It’s good to see you, Pinestar,” Heatherstar responded politely, her eyes glinting in the moonlight.

“Hawkheart! Any news this moon?” A ragged gray tom shambled toward the WindClan medicine cat.

“That’s Goosefeather,” Doespring whispered to Tallpaw. “He’s ThunderClan’s medicine cat.”

Tallpaw heard a purr in his other ear. “Goosefeather talks to himself,” Stagleap whispered. “The ThunderClan apprentices told me that he walks in the woods chatting to the trees and the squirrels.”

Doespring snorted with amusement.

“Hello, Goosefeather.” Hawkheart welcomed his fellow medicine cat.

Barkpaw stood beside his mentor and nodded, looking overawed.

“Have you killed anyone recently, you old herb-muddler?” Hawkheart joked.

Goosefeather snorted. “Not on purpose.”

Tallpaw’s eyes widened as he watched ThunderClan warriors weave among the WindClan cats, exchanging greetings like old friends. “Is it okay to talk to the other Clans?”

“So long as clouds don’t cross the moon,” Doespring reminded him. “If they do, StarClan is warning us that the truce is over.”

“Be careful what you say,” Stagleap added. “If you say too much, you might give away WindClan secrets. If you say too little, the other Clans will accuse you of being hostile.”

Tallpaw swallowed. “How will I know if I get it right?”

“Just listen and be polite,” Doespring advised. “If you talk to the apprentices, don’t say more than you need to. If they talk about training, join in, but don’t share WindClan battle moves.”