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“ShadowClan,” answered Tigerclaw grimly. “We are traveling along their border. Keep your wits about you, Firepaw. Fresher scents mean that a ShadowClan patrol is in the area.”
As Firepaw nodded, he heard a new noise. He stiffened, but the other cats kept up their pace, heading straight for the ominous rumbling.
“What’s that?” he called, trotting to catch up with them.
“You’ll see in a moment,” replied Lionheart.
Firepaw peered through the trees ahead. They seemed to be getting thinner, letting in a broad band of sunlight. “Are we at the edge of the woods?” he asked. Then he stopped and took a deep breath. The green forest scents were overlaid with other strange, dark smells. This time it was not cat-scent, but an odor that reminded him of his old Twoleg home. And the rumbling was getting louder, a ceaseless roar that made the ground tremble and ached in Firepaw’s ears.
“This is the Thunderpath,” meowed Tigerclaw.
Firepaw followed as Lionheart led them toward the edge of the forest. Then he sat down and all four cats looked out.
Firepaw could see a gray path like a river, cutting its way through the forest. The hard gray stone stretched ahead of him so far that the trees on the other side seemed blurred and tiny. Firepaw shuddered at the bitter smell that rose from the path.
Next moment he leaped back, his fur bristling, as a gigantic monster roared past. The branches of the trees on either side flapped madly in the wind that chased the speeding monster. Firepaw stared around at the other cats, his eyes wide, unable to speak. He had seen paths like this before near his old Twoleg home, but never this wide, nor with monsters so swift and fierce.
“Scared me too the first time,” remarked Graypaw. “But at least it helps to keep ShadowClan warriors from crossing into our territory. The Thunderpath runs for many pawsteps along our boundary line. And don’t worry; those monsters never seem to leave the Thunderpath. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t go too near.”
“It’s time we returned to camp,” meowed Lionheart. “You have seen all our boundaries now. But we’ll avoid Snakerocks, even though the way around is longer. An untrained apprentice would be easy prey for an adder, and I expect you are getting tired, Firepaw.”
Firepaw couldn’t help feeling relieved at the thought of returning to the camp. His head was spinnning with all the new smells and sights, and Lionheart was right: he was tired, and hungry. He fell in behind Graypaw as the cats turned away from the Thunderpath and headed back into the forest.
The dewy scents of evening filled the air as Firepaw made his way through the gorse entrance into the ThunderClan camp. Fresh-kill was waiting for them. Firepaw and Graypaw took their share from the pile that lay in a shady part of the clearing and carried it to the tree stump outside their quarters.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw were already there, munching hungrily.
“Hi, there, kittypet,” mewed Dustpaw, narrowing his eyes scornfully at Firepaw. “Enjoy the food we caught for you.”
“Who knows, you might even learn to catch your own one day!” sneered Sandpaw.
“Are you two still on hunting duty?” asked Graypaw innocently. “Never mind. We’ve been patrolling our territory borders. You’ll be glad to know all is safe.”
“I’m sure the other Clans were terrified when they smelled you two coming!” yowled Dustpaw.
“They didn’t even dare show their faces,” retorted Graypaw, unable to hide his anger.
“Well, we’ll ask them tonight when we see them at the Clan Gathering,” mewed Sandpaw.
“Are you going?” Firepaw blurted out, impressed in spite of the apprentices’ hostility.
“Of course,” replied Dustpaw loftily. “It’s a great honor, you know. But don’t worry; we’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”
Graypaw ignored Dustpaw’s gloating and started eating his fresh-kill. Firepaw was hungry too, and crouched down to eat. He couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy that Dustpaw and Sandpaw were actually going to meet the other Clans tonight.
A loud call from Bluestar made Firepaw look up. He watched several of the Clan warriors and elders gather in the clearing. It was time for the Clan party to leave for the Gathering. Dustpaw and Sandpaw leaped to their feet and trotted off to join the other cats.
“’Bye, you two,” called Sandpaw over her shoulder. “Have a nice, quiet evening!”
The assembled cats stalked out of the camp entrance in single file, with Bluestar at the head. Her fur glowed like silver in the moonlight, and she looked calm and confident as she led her Clan to the brief truce between old enemies.
“Have you ever been to a Gathering?” Firepaw asked Graypaw wistfully.
“Not yet,” replied Graypaw, crunching loudly on a mouse bone. “But it won’t be long now; just you wait. All the apprentices get to go sometime.”
The two apprentices ate the rest of their meal in silence. When they had finished, Graypaw wandered over to Firepaw and began to groom his head. Together they washed, sharing tongues as Firepaw had seen the other cats do when he first arrived. Then, tired after the long trek, they pushed their way into their den. They settled down in their nests and quickly fell asleep.
The following morning, Graypaw and Firepaw arrived early at the sandy hollow. They had crept out before Sandpaw and Dustpaw woke. Firepaw had been eager to hear about the Gathering, but Graypaw had dragged him away. “You’ll hear all about it later, if I know those two,” he had mewed.
It promised to be another warm day. And this time Ravenpaw came to join them. Thanks to Spottedleaf, his wound was healing well.
Graypaw played around, scooping leaves into the air and leaping after them. Firepaw watched, his tail twitching with amusement. Ravenpaw sat quietly at one side of the hollow, looking tense and unhappy.
“Cheer up, Ravenpaw!” called Graypaw. “I know you don’t like training, but you’re not usually this miserable!”
The scents of Lionheart and Tigerclaw warned the apprentices of their approach, and Ravenpaw mewed hastily, “I suppose I’m just worried about my shoulder getting hurt again.”
At that moment, Tigerclaw emerged from the bushes, closely followed by Lionheart.
“Warriors should suffer their pain silently,” growled Tigerclaw. He looked Ravenpaw straight in the eye. “You need to learn to hold your tongue.”
Ravenpaw flinched and dropped his eyes to the ground.
“Tigerclaw’s a bit grumpy today,” Graypaw whispered into Firepaw’s ear.
Lionheart glanced at his apprentice sternly and announced, “Today we are going to practice stalking. Now, there is a big difference between creeping up on a rabbit and creeping up on a mouse. Can any of you tell me why?”
Firepaw had no idea, and Ravenpaw seemed to have taken Tigerclaw’s comment to heart and was holding his tongue.
“Come on!” snorted Tigerclaw impatiently.
It was Graypaw who answered: “Because a rabbit will smell you before he sees you, but a mouse will feel your pawsteps through the ground before he even smells you.”
“Exactly, Graypaw! So what must you bear in mind when hunting mice?”
“Step lightly?” Firepaw suggested.
Lionheart looked approvingly at him. “Quite right, Firepaw. You must take all your weight into your haunches, so that your paws make no impact on the forest floor. Let’s try it!”
Firepaw watched as Graypaw and Ravenpaw immediately dropped into a stalking crouch.
“Nicely done, Graypaw!” meowed Lionheart as the two apprentices began to move forward stealthily.
“Keep your rear down, Ravenpaw, you look like a duck!” spat Tigerclaw. “Now you try it, Firepaw.”
Firepaw crouched down and began to creep across the forest floor. He felt himself fall instinctively into the right position, and as he stepped forward, as silently and lightly as he could, he felt a glow of pride that his muscles responded so smoothly.
“Well, it’s obvious you’ve known nothing but softness!?
? growled Tigerclaw. “You stalk like a lumbering kittypet! Do you think dinner is going to come and lie down in your food dish and wait to be eaten?”
Firepaw sat up quickly as Tigerclaw spoke, a little taken aback by his harsh words. He listened carefully to the warrior, determined to get everything right.
