Tallstar’s Revenge

“Yes.” The old tunneler purred. “Every time we hit worm soil, he’d send his tunnelmate in first. He always said he’d rather be plastered whisker to tail in clay than get a worm under his claw.”

Tallpaw purred, amused that his father could be so squeamish, but sad that he was only just hearing about it. Why didn’t I know this before?

They were nearing the hollow and Tallpaw could see the walls of camp silhouetted in the early-morning light. He glanced at Flailfoot. The old tunneler’s eyes were half-closed. He was enjoying the last moments of sun on his pelt before they headed into the shadows. Did tunnelers really love the open moor as much as their Clanmates? Tallpaw had never imagined that they enjoyed being aboveground. He’d thought that they tunneled because they loved the dark and the closeness of earth around them.

“Tallpaw!” Dawnstripe called to him as he nosed his way into camp. “Good news!” She raced across the tussocks to meet him. “Hawkheart says you’re fit enough to start training again!”

Tallpaw halted. “Really?”

Flailfoot flicked his tail along Tallpaw’s flank. “Congratulations!”

Plumclaw and Woollytail looked up from the bracken patch. “There you are, Flailfoot!” Plumclaw called. “We wondered where you’d gone.”

“Tallpaw?” Dawnstripe leaned closer. “Did you hear what I said?” Tallpaw nodded. “Aren’t you happy?” Dawnstripe’s eyes flashed with worry.

Tallpaw lifted his muzzle. “I want to train as a tunneler.”

Woollytail jumped to his paws. “What did you just say?” He bounded across the clearing toward Tallpaw.

Plumclaw trotted after her denmate. “That’s wonderful news!”

Dawnstripe blinked. “But you’re going to be a moor runner.”

“I’ve changed my mind.” Tallpaw spoke slowly, more certain that he was making the right decision with every word. “I want to continue what my father was doing. I want to learn his skills and pass them on to my kits when the time comes.”

“But you’re a great moor runner,” Dawnstripe argued. “And you’ve learned so much already.”

“I know,” Tallpaw mewed. “But everything has changed; don’t you see?”

Dawnstripe shifted her paws. “I suppose I’d better speak with Heatherstar.”

“Thank you.” Tallpaw touched his muzzle to her cheek. “I’ll miss training with you; I really will, but this is something that I have to do.” His grief was floating away like mist. “I must honor Sandgorse’s memory and protect the skills he valued.”

Dawnstripe backed away. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

She turned and headed for Heatherstar’s den.

Woollytail stopped beside him. “Do you really mean this?”

Tallpaw nodded. “Completely.”

“Don’t do this for your father’s sake.” Woollytail lowered his voice. “Sandgorse would never want that. He was tough on you, I know. But tunnelers have to be tough. It doesn’t mean he didn’t understand. He was proud to see you fight for what you truly wanted, even if that wasn’t what he’d hoped for. He’d have been proud to see you as a moor runner, you know.”

“Don’t talk him out of it!” Plumclaw shouldered her denmate aside. “Sandgorse would have been so happy! We need more paws.”

Tallpaw met her eager gaze. “Tunneling is in my blood, Plumclaw. I just never realized it before.”

Chapter 20

“Is it true?” Barkpaw lifted his head from the spring that bubbled just outside the camp wall. “You’re becoming a tunneler?”

Tallpaw padded down the slope and stopped beside him. “Dawnstripe’s asking Heatherstar right now.” He crouched at the water’s edge. Finding Barkpaw here had surprised him. Tallpaw had grown used to the medicine apprentice avoiding him whenever he could. They’d hardly spoken in the quarter moon since Sandgorse’s death. Tallpaw wasn’t sure if it was because they were both lost in grief, or because Barkpaw blamed him for Brackenwing’s death. He didn’t dare ask.

Barkpaw hauled a dripping wad of moss from the spring. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I want to.” Tallpaw dipped his head and began lapping at the cool, fresh water.

Barkpaw sat down, letting the moss drain beside him. “Why?”

Tallpaw flicked his tail. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You were doing so well with your training.” Barkpaw tipped his head on one side. “And you loved being a moor runner.”

“I’ll love tunneling, too.” Tallpaw sat up, water dripping from his chin.

“Even Shrewpaw was impressed by your hunting skill.” Barkpaw didn’t seem to be listening to anything Tallpaw said. “Though he’d never admit it.”

“This is something I have to do.” Tallpaw licked his lips. “For my father’s sake.”

“But you’re not Sandgorse!” Barkpaw leaned forward. “You don’t have to live his life for him just because he’s dead.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Tallpaw growled under his breath.

Barkpaw’s gaze burned into Tallpaw’s. “You think you’ll feel better if you follow his wishes, don’t you?”

Tallpaw looked away first. “The Clan needs tunnelers more than ever. It’s my duty to follow in Sandgorse’s paw steps.”