⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱
AS THEY HEADED out of the camp, the three young warriors nearly crashed into Whitestorm, who was leading Sandpaw, Dustpaw and Runningwind into the forest for the dawn patrol.
"Sorry!" panted Fireheart. He stopped, and Graystripe and Whiterose skidded to a halt beside him.
Whitestorm dipped his head, "I heard you two are going on a mission," he meowed.
"Yes," Fireheart replied.
"Then may you have StarClan's protection," meowed Whitestorm gravely.
"What for?" Sandpaw sneered. "You off to catch voles?"
Runningwind, the lean tabby, turned and whispered something in Sandpaw and Dustpaw's ears. Their expressions changed and the contempt in their eyes switched to guarded curiosity.
The patrol stepped aside to let the three cats pass. The trio raced on and scrambled up the side of the ravine.
The three shared a few words as they followed the route through the forest to Fourtrees, saving their breath for the long journey ahead. They paused at the top of the steep slope on the far side of the oak-shaded clearing, their sides heaving from the climb.
"Is it always windy up here?" grumbled Graystripe, fluffing out his thick grey fur against the blast of cold air that swept across the uplands.
"It must be called WindClan for a reason, then." Whiterose mused.
As Fireheart sniffed the air, they all detected a scent that they recognised. "Do you smell RiverClan warriors?" he murmured uneasily.
"I do," Whiterose replied. "They might want to make most of WindClan's absence, especially since they know WindClan will be back soon."
"Well, I can't smell anything now," whispered Graystripe. The three cats padded watchfully along a frozen turf trail sheltered by heather.
A fresh scent stopped Whiterose in her tracks, "Can you smell that?"
"Yes," whispered Graystripe, flattening himself against the ground. "RiverClan!"
Fireheart and Whiterose both dropped into a crouch, keeping their ears below the heather. Beside Whiterose, Graystripe lifted his dark grey head to peer over the bushes. "I can see them," he murmured. "They're hunting."
Whiterose and Fireheart stretched up curiously to look.
Four RiverClan warriors were chasing a rabbit through a patch of gorse. Whiterose recognised Blackclaw, Silverstream, Stonefur and Leopardfur from the Gatherings. Blackclaw, the smoky-black warrior pounced, his claws unsheathed, but sat up again with nothing to show for the chase. The rabbit must have made it to the safety of the warren.
Fireheart, Whiterose and Graystripe dropped down again and pressed their bellies to the cold turf.
"They're not good rabbit hunters," Graystripe hissed scornfully.
"I guess RiverClan is more used to catching fish," Fireheart whispered back. Whiterose's nose twitched as she smelled the scent of a terrified rabbit coming nearer. With a pang of dread, Whiterose heard the paw-steps of the RiverClan warriors fast approaching after it. "They're coming this way! We have to hide!"
"Follow me," whispered Graystripe. "I smell badgers this way."
"Badgers?" Fireheart echoed. "Is that safe?" Whiterose nodded, remembering the story of how Halftail lost his tail in a fight with a bad-tempered old badger.
"Don't worry. The scent is strong but stale," Graystripe reassured Fireheart. "There must be an old set near here."
Whiterose sniffed. Her scent glands picked up a strong, almost fox-like scent. "Are you sure it's abandoned?"
"We'll know soon enough. Come on; we've got to get out of here," replied Graystripe. He led the way quickly through the low bushes. The rustle of heather told Whiterose the RiverClan warriors were closing in.
"Here!" Graystripe shouldered aside a tuft of heather to reveal a sandy hole in the ground. "Get inside! The badger's scent will disguise ours. We can wait till they're gone."
Whiterose and Fireheart slipped speedily into the dark hole, and Graystripe followed them. The stench of badger was overwhelming. Paw-steps thudded on the ground overhead. The trio held their breath as the steps halted and one of the RiverClan warriors yowled, "Badger set!" From the rasping mew, Whiterose knew it was Blackclaw.
A second voice answered, it was Silverstream, "Is it abandoned? The rabbit may be hiding inside."
Whiterose's pelt prickled, she unsheathed her claws and stared at the entrance to the hole, ready to fight if she had to. Though she didn't want to hurt Silverstream.
"Wait; the scent leads this way," meowed Blackclaw. There was a scrabble of paws overhead as the RiverClan warriors charged away.
Graystripe slowly let out his breath. "D'you think they're gone?"
"Perhaps we should wait a bit longer, make sure none of them stayed behind." Fireheart suggested.
No more noises came from outside. Graystripe nudged them. "Come on," he meowed.
They followed Graystripe cautiously out into the daylight. There was no sign of the RiverClan patrol. The fresh breeze cleared Whiterose's scent glands of the badger's stench.
"We should look for the WindClan camp," Fireheart meowed to them. "It'll be the best place to pick up their scent."
"Okay," They answered.
They moved slowly through the heather, keeping their mouths slightly open to pick up the scent of any more RiverClan warriors. They stopped at the foot of a large, flat rock that sloped up steeply, past the tops of the gorse bushes.
"I'll climb up and have a look around," offered Graystripe. "My pelt will blend better with the stone."
"Okay," Fireheart agreed. "But keep your head down."
"And make sure they don't see you!" Whiterose added, her green eyes wide. Graystripe nodded and crept up the rock. He then crouched at the top and gazed around the plateau, then skidded back down to his Clanmate's. "There's a hollow over there, I think," Graystripe puffed, signalling with his tail. "I can see a gap in the heather."
"Well, then let's go," Whiterose mewed and bounded away to the hollow, Fireheart and Graystripe following after her. It looked like as if a StarClan warrior had reached down from the sky, scooped a pawful of peat from the plateau, and replaced it with a thick tangle of gorse that grew almost to the level of the ground on either side.
Whiterose sniffed. She could smell many faint scents, all WindClan, old and young, male and female, and, in the background, the faint odour of fresh-kill that had long since become crow-food. This had to be the abandoned camp.
Whiterose found a gap in the bushes and went through, almost laughing out loud when she saw Fireheart and Graystripe struggling through the brambles.
"This is definitely their camp," Whiterose called, looking at the sandy ground that had been trodden hard by generations of paws. At one end of the clearing stood a rock, worn smooth by many windblown moons. "I can't believe Brokenstar managed to drive out WindClan out of such a well-protected place."
"It looks like they put up a good fight," Fireheart padded beside her. Whiterose then realised how badly ravaged the camp was. Clumps of fur littered the ground, and dried blood stained the sand. Mossy nests had been dragged out of dens and torn apart. And everywhere, stale ShadowClan scents mingled with the smell of terrified WindClan cats.
Whiterose whimpered a bit and Fireheart pressed his pelt beside hers to comfort his sister. "Let's find the scent trail out of here," he meowed. He began to sniff the air carefully and moved forward, following the strongest scent. Graystripe and Whiterose padded after him to a narrow gap in the gorse.
"WindClan cats must be smaller than I remember," grumbled Graystripe as he and Whiterose squeezed through after Fireheart.
Fireheart glanced at them, amusement shining in his green eyes for a moment. Whiterose sniffed, the scent trail was quite clear now—definitely WindClan, but mixed and pungent, as if made by many frightened cats. She looked down. Drops of dried blood dotted the ground.
"We're heading the right way," Fireheart meowed darkly. Two moons of rain and wind had failed to wash away the signs of suffering. Whiterose felt grief for these cats she never met. Whiterose could clearly picture the defeated and injured Clan fleeing from their home. The crying kits and the helpless elders. With a surge of determination, she bounded after her brother and Graystripe.
The trail led them to the far edge of the uplands, where they stopped to catch their breath. In front of them the ground sloped away to the Twoleg farmland. Far in the distance, where the sun was beginning to set, loomed the towering shapes of Highstones.
"I wonder if Nightpelt is there yet," mewed Fireheart.
"Most likely," Whiterose replied, skipping up to stride beside her brother.
"Well, we don't want to find him down there!" Graystripe flicked his tail at the wide expanse of Twoleg land. "It'll be hard enough dodging Twolegs, rats, and dogs, without meeting the new ShadowClan leader as well!"
Fireheart nodded. Whiterose then thought about the last journey across the moor, when she along with Bluestar, Tigerclaw, Graystripe, Fireheart and Ravenpaw ran into rats and dogs alike. How she nearly died and Bluestar lost one of her nine lives.
"Do you think we'll find any trace of Ravenpaw down there?" Graystripe meowed, turning his broad face toward Fireheart and Whiterose.
"I hope so," Fireheart replied solemnly. Whiterose then blinked sadly, Ravenpaw was an apprentice who shared the same mentor as her. They had trained together more than she had trained with Fireheart and Graystripe. The last she saw of him had been when the white tip of his tail disappeared into the storm on the uplands. Had the ThunderClan apprentice made it safely to Barley's territory?
The three warriors started down the slope, carefully sniffing each clump of grass to make sure they stayed on the WindClan trail.
"It doesn't look as if they were heading for Highstones," Graystripe remarked. The trail took them sideways into a wide grassy field. They skirted the edge, staying near the hedgerow as WindClan had done. The scent led them out of the field and onto a Twoleg path through a small copse of trees.
"Look!" Graystripe meowed. Sun-bleached piles of prey and bones lay scattered in the undergrowth. Mossy bedding had been gathered beneath the thickest patches of brambles.
"WindClan must have settled here for the night," Whiterose mewed.
"I wonder what made them leave," Graystripe asked, sniffing the air. "The scent is old."
Fireheart shrugged and the three cats followed the trail onward to a thick hedge. With a bit of struggle, they wriggled through onto a grass verge. Beyond a narrow ditch lay a wide earth track.
Graystripe leaped nimbly over the ditch and onto the hard-red track. Whiterose went to follow but her brothers call stopped them.
"What's up?" Graystripe asked.
Fireheart pointed with his nose. "Look at that Twolegplace over there! We must be near Barley's territory."
Whiterose's ears twitched nervously. "That's where we ran into those rats... But WindClan definitely came this way!"
"We'll have to hurry," Graystripe added. "We need to get past the Twoleg nest before sunset."
Fireheart paused before nodding, "Perhaps the dogs chased WindClan out of the woods."
There was some silence before Fireheart spoke again, "Do you think he found Barley?"
"Who? Ravenpaw?" Graystripe asked and Whiterose hissed lightly, "Yes, Ravenpaw, who else?" she looked at her brother, "Don't underestimate Ravenpaw. Remember the time Tigerclaw sent him to Snakerocks? He came back with an adder!"
Fireheart purred as Graystripe leaped across the track and through the hedge on the far side. Whiterose and Fireheart chased after him, quickening their pace to match their friend step for step.
A dog barked furiously from the Twoleg nest, but it's vicious snarling soon faded in the distance. The temperature plunged as the sun set, and frost began forming on the grass.
"Should we keep going?" asked Graystripe. "What if the trail takes us to Highstones after all? Nightpelt will definitely be there by now."
Whiterose lifted her nose and sniffed some browning ferns. The smell of WindClan, sour with fear, pricked at her. "We'd better keep going," she meowed. "We'll stop when we have to."
The cold breeze carried another odour to Whiterose's nose—there was a Thunderpath nearby. Graystripe screwed up his face. He smelled it too. Fireheart did the same when he caught up. The warriors glanced at eachother with looks of dismay but pushed on. The stench grew stronger and stronger until they could hear the roar of Thunderpath monsters in the distance—or cars as Redstream called them. By the time they reached the hedge that ran alongside the wide grey path, it was hard to make out the WindClan trail at all.
Graystripe stopped and looked around, uncertainty showing in his yellow eyes. But Whiterose could just make out the fear scent. She crept through the shadows beside the hedge until she reached a place where the hedge was less thick. "They sheltered here," Fireheart meowed beside her, and Whiterose imagined the terrified WindClan cats staring through the hedge at the Thunderpath.
"This was probably the first time most of them had seen the Thunderpath," Graystripe remarked as he joined them by the hedge.
They looked at him in surprise. They had never met a WindClan cat—they had been driven out of their territory almost as soon as they had become apprentices. "Didn't they patrol their borders?" Fireheart asked, puzzled.
"You've seen their territory—it's pretty wild and barren, and the prey's not easy to catch. I guess they never thought any of the other Clans would bother hunting here. After all, RiverClan has their river, and, in a good year, our forests are filled with prey, so no cat needs their skinny rabbits." Graystripe explained.
A monster roared past on the other side of the hedge, its night eyes glaring. The three warriors flinched as the wind buffeted their fur even through the wall of leaves. When the noise had faded away, they sat up cautiously and sniffed around the roots of the hedge.
"The trail seems to lead under here," Whiterose squeezed onto the grass verge that lay along the Thunderpath. Graystripe and Fireheart scrabbled through behind her.
But on the other side of the hedge the scent trail stopped abruptly.
"They must have either doubled back or crossed the Thunderpath," Fireheart meowed. "You look around here, and I and Whiterose will check out the other side." Whiterose could tell her brother fought to keep his voice calm, but the exhaustion was clear. She felt her own tiredness flush through her, and she sighed.
Surely they couldn't have lost the trail now, after coming so far?