But as Hawkwing led the way through the woods, his apprentice’s weird behavior slipped out of his mind. He had too many other things to worry about.
Two moons had passed since Echosong and the others had left the Clan. A few days later, Leafstar had ordered the remaining SkyClan cats to move camp into a stretch of long grass at the far end of the lake.
But that had been no better. There were still disturbances from the Twolegs and their dogs, and the new camp was more exposed to the huge birds that had attacked Blossomheart and Curlypaw. Plumwillow had been terrified that they would carry off the kits.
So Leafstar had decided to move camp yet again, to an area of woodland on the opposite side of the lake from where they had first settled. They found a deep hollow surrounded by brambles and thornbushes; it wasn’t as big or as sheltered as their first camp, but it was the best they could find.
At first the new place had seemed to work well. SkyClan was a long way away from the noise and activity around the water, and though there were a few Twoleg dens beside a Thunderpath on the far side of the trees, the Twolegs there didn’t seem interested in the cats. Even so, their comings and goings, the roar of their monsters down the Thunderpath, disturbed the cats’ peace and meant they had to be continually alert.
But what worried Hawkwing more than anything was that some of the younger cats weren’t scared enough. They thought it was exciting to be so close to Twolegs.
And then there’s Parsleyseed . . .
A few days before, as twilight was falling and the cats of SkyClan were eating together in the camp, the young warrior had risen to his paws in the midst of his Clanmates. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he meowed, sounding scared and determined at the same time.
Leafstar looked up, mildly surprised. “Go on,” she responded.
Parsleyseed hesitated, gulping, and Hawkwing felt a prickle of uneasiness in his pelt. What’s the matter, that he could find it so hard to talk about?
Then Parsleyseed seemed to brace himself. “I’m going to leave to become a kittypet!” he blurted out.
Yowls of disbelief and protest rose from the cats around him.
“You can’t!”
“This is where you belong!”
“You would really betray SkyClan?”
Parsleyseed shook his head miserably, looking at his paws. “I don’t want to betray any cat,” he mewed, “but—”
Leafstar interrupted him, still calm, though Hawkwing could see that she was as shocked as any cat. “Why, Parsleyseed?” she asked. “What makes you want to leave us?”
“I’m scared all the time here,” Parsleyseed confessed. “The territory is full of dogs and Twolegs. . . .”
“So you want to go and live with Twolegs?” Sparrowpelt snapped. “That’s really smart of you!”
“It’s not like that!” Parsleyseed defended himself. “I met these Twolegs—they live in one of the dens by the Thunderpath—and they started to put food out for me. I tried it—and I really like the taste! And I let them stroke me, and I liked that, too!” The last few words burst out of him defiantly, as if he was ashamed and trying not to show it.
Now that Hawkwing thought about it, he remembered seeing Parsleyseed slinking off alone into the woods more than once over the last half moon. I should have tried to find out what he was up to, he thought, and maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.
“Look, Parsleyseed.” Macgyver, who had once been a daylight warrior, rose to his paws and padded up to the younger cat, laying his tail over the brown tabby tom’s shoulders. “I know all about being a kittypet, and it’s not as easy as you think. You only eat when the Twolegs give you food. You only go in and out when the Twolegs say you can. Is that what you really want?” When Parsleyseed didn’t reply, he added, “And then there’s the Cutter.”
Parsleyseed looked sharply at him. “What’s the Cutter?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” Macgyver replied, “because my Twolegs never took me there, thank StarClan. But the Cutter does something. I know this because all the cats who went to him came back very lazy, not like proper cats at all. They got so fat!”
A few gasps of horror came from his listening Clanmates. “That’s terrible!” Firefern exclaimed.
“I don’t care,” Parsleyseed meowed stubbornly. “I’ve made up my mind. Being a kittypet is easier. And safer.”
Hawkwing saw the hurt in Leafstar’s eyes at the young warrior’s last words, but she didn’t try to argue with him. Because she knows that, these days, it’s true.
He couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave his Clan for the life of a kittypet. It would feel like an insult to his parents, not to mention StarClan. But he could understand Parsleyseed’s fear. I still can’t help feeling that something’s wrong, and that something is coming that is even more terrifying than the dog attack. . . .
The Clan leader had dipped her head. “Then may StarClan light your path, Parsleyseed.”
And on the following morning, Parsleyseed had left SkyClan for good.
Now Hawkwing led his hunting patrol deeper into the woods, well away from the lake. Though the Twolegs weren’t splashing around in the water anymore—and why in the name of StarClan would any sensible creature want to get wet?—they still roared around on their water monsters. Hawkwing had even seen them luring fish out of the water on strange sticks with long tendrils hanging from them.
“Hawkwing!” Curlypaw’s whisper brought Hawkwing out of his thoughts. “Rabbit!”
She was angling her ears toward a mossy bank where Hawkwing could see the openings to several burrows. The rabbit was nibbling on a patch of sorrel, hopping slowly from one clump to the next.
“Okay,” Hawkwing murmured. “Sagenose, Blossomheart, work your way around so you get between the rabbit and the burrows. Curlypaw, you’re with me.”
“The wind’s blowing toward us,” Sagenose pointed out. “If we do what you say, the rabbit will scent us.”
“I know. I want it to scent you,” Hawkwing explained. “But it won’t be able to go underground, because you’ll be in the way. The only way it can run is over here, straight into our paws.”
“Brilliant!” Blossomheart breathed out.
When she and Sagenose had gone, circling around the rabbit from opposite directions, Hawkwing and Curlypaw crouched down in the long grass, a couple of tail-lengths separating them.
“Ready?” Hawkwing asked.
“Ready,” Curlypaw confirmed, her eyes bright.
Several moments dragged out until the rabbit sat up, its ears quivering, then made a dash for the burrows. But Sagenose was in the way, bounding toward the rabbit with teeth and claws bared.
The rabbit veered away, letting out a thin squeal of terror as it saw Blossomheart, then doubled back and raced toward Curlypaw. Hawkwing almost sprang out of hiding, but stayed still, leaving the kill to his apprentice.
Curlypaw waited until exactly the right moment, then leaped out of the grass with a ferocious snarl and fell on top of the rabbit, biting down hard on its neck.
“Great catch!” Hawkwing congratulated her, padding over to give her prey a sniff.
“Yeah—fantastic!” Sagenose added as he bounded up.
“It was Hawkwing’s plan,” Curlypaw mewed, giving her chest fur an embarrassed lick at her father’s praise. “I couldn’t have done it without him.”
Hawkwing gazed at her proudly. His apprentice was becoming a great hunter, and he could imagine what an asset to her Clan she would be. It’s almost time to start thinking about her warrior ceremony.
Later, as the hunting patrol was returning, laden with prey, Curlypaw hung back to let Sagenose and Blossomheart go on ahead. “Hawkwing, can I talk to you in private?” she asked.
“Of course you can,” Hawkwing replied. He was surprised, until he remembered that Curlypaw had been gazing mistily at Rileypool for the past few days. She’s probably going to ask my advice about toms! He hid his amusement. Good luck with that, he thought. It?
??s not like I’m an expert on love!
Then his amusement faded as he remembered Pebbleshine, and how much he still missed her. But I can’t think of her now, he told himself. If Curlypaw needs me, I have to do the best I can for her.
Before Curlypaw could tell Hawkwing what was on her mind, they heard a distant barking from the direction of the camp. No! Hawkwing thought. Not again . . .
Without a word all the patrol broke into a run, discarding their prey. Hawkwing led the way, hurtling through the trees until they were nothing but a blur as he sped past.
As he approached the camp, the direction of the barking changed, as if the dogs were moving off, farther into the woods. Briefly Hawkwing hoped that the danger was over.
But then Plumwillow burst out of the undergrowth, her fur bushed up and her eyes wild and distraught. “The kits are gone!” she exclaimed.
Hawkwing halted, horror turning his bones to ice. “What?”
“Dogs attacked the camp,” Plumwillow gasped. “Only three—but they were so big. They managed to corner the kits, and they chased them out of the camp. . . .”
She broke off, her chest heaving as she fought for breath.
Hawkwing didn’t need to hear any more. “Check the camp!” he ordered the rest of the patrol, then took off in the direction of the barking, with Plumwillow hard on his paws. Soon his lungs were burning, his legs aching as he forced his muscles to flex faster and faster. But he couldn’t stop until he saw the kits again.
I’ll flay those dogs if they’ve hurt one hair of their pelts!
At last Hawkwing and Plumwillow halted beside a line of bushes that enclosed a Twoleg den. The sound of barking ripped through the air. With a glance at Plumwillow, Hawkwing pushed his way through the bushes and into the Twoleg garden.
In the middle of a stretch of grass Hawkwing saw a tiny Twoleg den, striped in bright colors. Three huge black dogs stood outside it, barking so loudly they could be heard in StarClan.
“What is that?” Hawkwing murmured, half to himself. “It’s too small for Twolegs.”
“I think it’s for the Twoleg kits. It’s too small for the dogs to get in,” Plumwillow murmured at his shoulder. “The kits must be in there—I can scent them!”
“Then they’re safe for now,” Hawkwing responded. “But how are we going to get them out?”
“We’ll have to distract the dogs somehow,” Plumwillow mewed.
Hawkwing gazed across the garden, imagining himself dashing out to draw the dogs off while Plumwillow rescued the kits. Yes, that could work! he thought, flexing his claws excitedly. But before he could make a move the door of the Twoleg den slammed open and a female Twoleg appeared, yowling and waving her forelegs at the dogs.
The dogs ignored her, until she came close enough to grab one of them by the collar around its neck and yank it back, still yowling and waving her paw in the dogs’ faces. Eventually the dogs calmed down and backed off, whimpering.
The Twoleg peered inside the tiny den and her jaws dropped open in surprise. She started to make soft, cooing noises. Plumwillow and Hawkwing exchanged a glance of alarm as the Twoleg reached into the den and lifted Dewkit into her arms, then picked up Finkit and cuddled him. Reedkit followed her littermates into the open, staring in terror at the Twoleg.
“We have to do something!” Plumwillow cried. “What if she takes them inside her den? What if she makes them into kittypets?”
“We won’t let her,” Hawkwing promised. “Listen—you bite the Twoleg on her leg, and when she crouches down I’ll leap at her and claw her face. If that doesn’t make her drop the kits, nothing will!”
“Okay,” Plumwillow mewed tensely.
Racing across the grass, she leaped up at the Twoleg and sank her teeth into her leg. The Twoleg let out a yelp of pain and stooped to bat Plumwillow away. Hawkwing dashed up and aimed his claws at her face; the Twoleg started back in alarm, dropping Finkit and Dewkit and letting out a frightened yowl.
“This way!” Hawkwing exclaimed, pushing all three kits in front of him toward the bushes. “As fast as you can!”
At the same moment a huge male Twoleg came running out of the den, yowling even louder than his mate and glaring in the cats’ direction. The dogs started barking again, bounding after Hawkwing and Plumwillow as they helped the kits wriggle through the bushes and out into the woods.
Hawkwing turned to face the dogs, his claws extended as he snarled defiance, but before the dogs reached him the male Twoleg ran up to them, still yowling, and herded them back to the den. Hawkwing let out a gusty sigh of relief before thrusting his way through the tough branches to join Plumwillow and the kits.
Urging the kits on, Hawkwing and Plumwillow hurried deep into the trees before they dared stop to check on them.
“Are you okay?” Plumwillow asked anxiously, sniffing them all over.
“We’re fine!” Reedkit panted.
“Twolegs aren’t that scary,” Finkit added.
Dewkit fluffed up his pelt. “It felt kind of nice when the female picked me up,” he declared.
Hawkwing gave Plumwillow a serious look. “This is the second time the kits have been in danger from dogs,” he meowed. “We can’t risk it happening again.”
“I know,” Plumwillow agreed. “And I don’t like the way they’re not scared of Twolegs. You should be scared,” she added severely to her kits.
“Then we have to do something,” Hawkwing meowed.
Plumwillow gave him a long, serious look. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Hawkwing nodded. I’ve tried my best to stay, but I can’t deny any longer that the danger is getting worse. The dogs keep attacking, and the kits are growing up with no fear of Twolegs. This isn’t our home. We need to find another camp.
“We have to convince Leafstar to leave the lake,” he responded. “She won’t like it, but I can’t see any other way.”
When they were still a long way from the camp, Hawkwing spotted movement in the undergrowth. He tensed, then relaxed as a SkyClan patrol emerged into the open. Leafstar was in the lead, with Waspwhisker, Sparrowpelt, Tinycloud, and Rabbitleap.
“You found the kits!” Leafstar exclaimed, relief shining in her eyes as she halted in front of Hawkwing. “We were on our way to help you. Are they hurt?”
“No, we’re all okay,” Dewkit replied, fluffing out his fur.
“We ran faster than those stupid dogs,” Reedkit boasted. “And we hid in a tiny little Twoleg den.”
Finkit puffed out his chest proudly. “Those mange-pelts couldn’t get us in there.”
Hawkwing suppressed a mrrow of amusement. Now that they’re over their fear, they’ll be telling the story for moons!
“You were all very brave,” Leafstar praised them. “And now let’s get back to camp.”
When the patrol returned with the kits, the rest of their Clanmates pressed around them, welcoming them back with yowls of joy.
“Give the kits space to breathe!” Plumwillow protested. “They’re exhausted—they need to eat something and go to sleep.”
Soon the whole Clan settled down around the fresh-kill pile to eat and discuss the dog attack. The kits started to tell their story again—Hawkwing noticed that the dogs seemed to get bigger with every heartbeat—but before they got to the end their weariness overcame them, and they curled up next to Plumwillow in a purring, sleepy heap of fur.
As Hawkwing was finishing off a juicy vole, Curlypaw padded over to him and gave him a nudge. “Is it okay to talk now?”
Amid all the stress of the dog attack, Hawkwing had completely forgotten that Curlypaw had asked to talk to him. Now the last thing he wanted was to advise her about toms. He would much rather have burrowed into his nest in the warriors’ den and gone to sleep. But he knew that he couldn’t brush his apprentice off like that.
“Won’t the morning do instead?” he asked.
Curlypaw shifted her paws uncomfortably. “It’s kind of important.”
Hawkwing
suppressed a mrrow of amusement. I guess toms are really important to a young she-cat! “Okay,” he replied. “Let’s go over here where it’s a bit quieter.”
Hawkwing led the way to where a thornbush jutted out from the rocky bank which formed the edge of the camp. “Well, spit it out,” he meowed.
Curlypaw gave him a nervous glance and then studied her paws. “I’ve given it a lot of thought,” she murmured at last, “and I’ve decided to join Parsleyseed as a kittypet.”
Hawkwing felt as if his heart had plummeted down into his paws. His jaws gaped open as he stared at his apprentice. I thought this was going to be about Rileypool! “What?” he spluttered. “I didn’t see that coming!”
“That’s because you didn’t want to see,” Curlypaw responded. “Whenever I’ve gotten the chance, I’ve been going down to the lakeshore, and I didn’t much care if any cat saw me going. Most of the Twolegs are very nice. They stroke me and give me food.”
“And you’d give up being a Clan cat for that?” Hawkwing asked incredulously. “You’ve been doing so well. You’ll be a great warrior—a huge asset to your Clan!”
“I’ve tried my best to learn,” Curlypaw sighed. “I know I’m good at hunting, and I do care about my Clan. But Parsleyseed is right; it’s easier and safer to be a kittypet.”
“You’ve been visiting Parsleyseed?” Hawkwing asked sharply.
“Yes. I went to Parsleyseed’s new home first thing this morning and talked to him,” Curlypaw replied.
So that’s where she was before our hunting patrol! Hawkwing thought with sudden understanding. That must have been some kind of Twoleg scent on her fur.
“I met his Twolegs—Parsleyseed calls them ‘housefolk’—and they were very kind,” Curlypaw continued. “Parsleyseed says he has all the delicious food he can eat, and his housefolk let him out whenever he wants, except at night, because then it’s his job to guard the Twoleg kit. He thinks he can convince his Twolegs to take in another cat, and I—” She hesitated, then finished defiantly, “I want to go!”
“But how can you abandon your Clan?” Hawkwing asked, still hardly able to believe he was hearing this. “How can you abandon StarClan?”