Tallstar’s Revenge

“Here comes ShadowClan!” Stagleap’s hiss made Tallpaw stiffen.

The bushes on the slope stayed almost silent as shadows moved between them. Tallpaw’s pelt pricked. These cats hardly rippled a leaf as they slunk into the hollow, silent as prey. Tallpaw wrinkled his nose. ShadowClan brought with them a stench of pinesap and dank moss. “Do they always smell like that?”

“You’ll get used to it,” Stagleap promised. “They probably think we smell odd.”

Tallpaw lifted his chin. “No one could find the scent of the wind odd.”

Doespring shrugged. “Maybe they do. Perhaps that’s why they hide in the forest.”

“That’s Cedarstar.” Stagleap pointed his muzzle at a dark gray tom. The ShadowClan leader’s white belly flashed beneath him as he joined Heatherstar and Pinestar at the foot of the Great Rock.

Tallpaw watched a gray tabby approach Reedfeather. “Is that Stonetooth?” he asked, half recognizing the cat from one of Flailfoot’s stories.

“Yes. He’s been ShadowClan’s deputy for so long, only the elders remember who came before him,” Doespring meowed.

“And there’s Sunfall.” Stagleap nodded toward a golden tabby. ThunderClan’s deputy was pacing around the clearing, dipping his head to warriors, sharing words with one group before moving on to the next.

Whiteberry limped across the clearing and touched muzzles with a small ginger she-cat. “Littlebird.” His eyes flashed with mischief. “You haven’t missed a Gathering in moons. Come to gossip, eh?”

“Of course.” She swept her tail over her paws as she sat down.

A graying ThunderClan tom hurried to join them. “How’s hunting?” he asked as he reached them.

“Not bad, Mumblefoot,” Whiteberry rasped. “Though with only two apprentices, it’s a long wait for fresh prey to arrive.”

Littlebird snorted. “You should go out and hunt your own.”

“If only!” Whiteberry sighed. “My legs are too slow.”

“Your claws are still sharp,” Littlebird countered.

Tallpaw’s ears pricked as Shrewpaw’s mew sounded from below one of the oak trees. “Of course, I’m the fastest apprentice.” Three apprentices were gathered around the dark brown tom, their eyes round. “And there’s no cat faster than a WindClan cat.”

A white ShadowClan apprentice lashed his tail. “Any cat could run fast on the moor. You’ve got the wind at your tail and no trees to get in your way.”

“You think it’s easy living on the moors, Blizzardpaw?” Shrewpaw flattened his ears.

A silver-furred she-cat with pale blue eyes stared at him. “WindClan cats think they’re so special.”

“That’s because we are.” Shrewpaw stuck his nose in the air.

“You’re as puffed up as the sheep that live on your dumb moor.” The silver apprentice lashed her tail.

“Moonpaw.” A sleek gray ThunderClan tom hurried over to her. “Don’t forget the truce.”

“But Shrewpaw’s showing off!” Moonpaw protested. “All WindClan cats are show-offs.”

Tallpaw noticed Hawkheart’s head turn toward the squabbling apprentices. “Stormtail!” he called to the gray ThunderClan tom beside Moonpaw. “Can’t ThunderClan keep its ’paws under control?”

Moonpaw’s gaze flashed toward the WindClan medicine cat. “Don’t worry,” she growled. “I won’t break the truce.” As she stalked away, Stormtail hurried after her, throwing an apologetic look at Hawkheart.

Tallpaw suddenly realized that his heart was racing. The rustling leaves and the babbling voices made his ears twitch. Words were tossed back and forth like prey between paws. How would he ever learn the names of all the cats in other Clans? Would he ever know what to say? Could he ever feel at ease here, trapped beneath trees?

“Look, Doespring!” Stagleap’s mew surprised him. “There’s Nettlepaw!” He jerked his nose toward a white ShadowClan she-cat with ginger patches. “Let’s find out if she passed her assessment!”

Tallpaw stared as they raced away across the clearing. He glanced around, feeling suddenly exposed. Should he follow them? Or join Shrewpaw with the other apprentices? Uncertain, he dropped into a crouch and watched the Clans blend together in a haze of pelts. Where’s RiverClan? Tallpaw dug his claws into the earth, feeling for vibrations, but the pattering of paws in the clearing blotted out distant tremors. He tasted the air. A tang that tasted of rancid water was drifting into the hollow.

“Sorry we’re late!” A huge tom bounded down between brambles and crossed the clearing to Heatherstar. His fur shone in the dappled moonlight, so thick that Tallpaw could only guess at the sturdy muscle moving beneath. That must be Hailstar. Tallpaw watched the RiverClan leader’s Clanmates stream into the hollow. They slid as easily as fish among the other Clan cats until the clearing was teeming with bodies. Tallpaw glanced up, wishing he could see wide-open sky. But he was underneath one of the Great Oaks, and branches blocked his view. It’s like being underground. His tail twitched nervously.