Tallstar’s Revenge

A bird called from the valley. Another answered it. Talltail tipped his head on one side to listen. Those birds weren’t troubled by the idea of dead birds watching them, making decisions on their behalf. Why should he wait for his ancestors to make up their minds?

I choose my own destiny. Nothing can stop me—not even StarClan.

Chapter 25

Talltail hopped from his nest, ready for the dawn hunting patrol. Stagleap and Shrewclaw were still snoring, not even stirring as he picked his way between their nests. They must have returned late from last night’s Gathering. Talltail had slept through their return. Why wait up and hear news they’d be sharing all day anyway?

He padded out of the long grass. Freezing fog filled the camp. Dawn light seeped through the mist as Talltail sniffed at a frosty mouse. It was all that was left of the prey-heap pile. He picked it up and carried it to the nursery, thrusting it through the entrance to give it a chance to thaw. It should be soft by the time that Palebird, Meadowslip, and their kits woke.

It had been a quarter moon since Palebird had kitted Wrenkit, Bristlekit, Rabbitkit, and Flykit. Talltail was proud of them. They had already explored the whole camp, asking questions, begging for badger rides, and getting under everyone’s paws.

As he leaned into the nursery now, Palebird lifted her head sleepily and peered through the half light. “Is that you, Talltail?”

“Yes. Do you need something?” Talltail pricked his ears.

“Go away,” Palebird grunted. “You’re disturbing everyone. The kits kept us awake half the night because you made them so excited about the Gathering.”

As Talltail ducked out of the den, a gorse thorn stabbed his ear. It stung less than Palebird’s words. Appledawn was stretching his spine at the edge of the long grass where the warriors slept. Hareflight stood yawning at the rim of the Meeting Hollow while Cloudrunner sniffed the empty patch where the prey heap should have been.

Cloudrunner lifted his head. “It looks like we’ve got some hunting to do,” he commented.

“I’m ready.” Talltail flexed his claws.

Appledawn headed for the entrance, Hareflight at her side. Cloudrunner raced past them and led them out of camp. Talltail felt their paw steps ringing through the ice-bound earth. He gave chase, catching up on the grass clearing outside. He stopped and scanned the moor. “Which way?”

“There’ll be prey near Fourtrees,” Cloudrunner guessed. “Anywhere close to the woods, when it’s this cold.” The pale gray tom crashed away through the frost-whitened heather. Talltail veered around the bushes, running hard so that he was ahead of the patrol when they broke from the other side. He heard their paws thrumming behind him and pushed harder.

“Why don’t you hunt down by the RiverClan border?” Cloudrunner panted when he caught up to Talltail at the edge of the trees. “Hareflight and I will search the brambles.” He glanced at Hareflight as the brown tom slithered to a halt, narrowly missing getting poked in the eye by a branch.

Appledawn pulled up behind him, her flanks heaving. “It’s a bit early for a race!” she panted.

Cloudrunner nodded to her. “You can hunt the RiverClan border with Talltail.” He nodded toward the scrubby hillside that linked the woods above Fourtrees to the river. Suddenly the warrior’s eyes narrowed. Talltail jerked around, following his gaze.

Two dark pelts were weaving between the bushes just below the border with RiverClan.

“The river must be frozen if they’re hunting on land,” Hareflight meowed. “They won’t like eating mice instead of fish.”

“They didn’t mention it at the Gathering,” Cloudrunner growled.

Talltail snorted. “Of course not. Clans don’t admit when they’re starving, remember?” He quoted the warrior’s words back at him.

Cloudrunner’s pelt rippled. “Just keep your eyes open. Hungry Clans cross borders.”

Of course they do! Otherwise they’d starve. Talltail headed downhill, Appledawn hurrying to keep up. “I hope we get a rabbit,” she meowed. “I’m starving.”

“If we could use the tunnels, we’d find plenty,” Talltail muttered. Bushes dotted the slope as it flattened toward the RiverClan scent line. The soil felt crumbly beneath Talltail’s paws, sandy enough to resist freezing even after several dawns of frost. This area was popular with rabbits because it was easy to dig at the height of leaf-bare, though the burrows became unstable in warmer weather.

“We might as well re-mark the border while we’re here.” Appledawn padded toward a bramble spilling over the grass and brushed past it.