Into the Wild: Chapters 10–16

“Are you worried about the assessment?” Firepaw asked Ravenpaw, as the young cat padded backward and forward with quick, nervous pawsteps.

A movement caught his eye. It was a mouse, scrabbling through the pine needles.

The ground here was deeply rutted by the tracks of the huge Twoleg monster that tore down the trees.

Ahead Firepaw could smell Twolegs and hear their voices, loud and raucous like crows.

He was closing in rapidly on the fleeing animal. It had slowed its headlong rush, preparing to scramble up the wide, mossy trunk of a fallen tree.

“No. Although Bluestar wasn’t pleased,” Firepaw admitted ruefully.

“Scared it might try to bite you?” Firepaw teased. He crouched down, hissing, and sidled up to Ravenpaw.

“And say little,” warned Tigerclaw. “Don’t give anything away that might be used against us once the moon has waned.”

“It is unprecedented!” cried a tortoiseshell queen from RiverClan.

“Well, at least that’s something,” muttered Graypaw in Firepaw’s ear. “We’ll show them we’re not as soft as that yellow-bellied RiverClan.”

“I also bring news that is important to the safety of your kits. A ShadowClan cat has turned rogue and spurned the warrior code. We chased her out of our camp, but we do not know where she is now. She looks like a mangy old creature, but she has a bite like TigerClan.”

The bold she-cat had done nothing to endear herself to her reluctant hosts, and Firepaw guessed it wouldn’t take much to drum up hatred against her—even the words of a despised enemy like Brokenstar would be enough.

The ShadowClan warriors began to push their way out of the throng of cats.

The remaining ShadowClan cats followed quickly behind, including the undersize tabby Lionheart had questioned earlier. But among the other ShadowClan apprentices, the tabby no longer looked unusually small—they all looked tiny and undernourished, more like kits of three or four moons than full-fledged apprentices.

“But what about Tigerclaw? What if he—”
“He is headstrong, and he knows the power he has over the other Clan cats—they are in awe of him. But even he will obey Bluestar.”

“But can we defend ourselves against a ShadowClan attack?” asked Smallear’s tremulous voice.

“She wants you to rest now,” Lionheart continued. “But first go to Spottedleaf and collect the herbs you will need on this expedition. It’s a long way. You will need something to give you strength and quell your appetite. There will be little time for catching prey.”

The soil was stony, and outcroppings of bare rock dotted the landscape here and there.

Firepaw followed her with the others, down the hill, away from the bleak hunting grounds of WindClan and into the lush Twoleg territory.

A sudden barrage of barking and snarling made them spin around.

Graypaw was lucky. A long lull let him cross safely.

Firepaw stood on the threshold and peered inside.

Bluestar kept up a swift pace with her nose thrust forward and her tail high. Tigerclaw loped beside her.

“Not so bad,” replied Barley, with an amiable gleam in his eye.

Barley flashed him a reproachful look. “I just wanted to warn you that there are two dogs here now. You’d be safer going back into the cornfield instead of past the yard.”