Doefeather stopped below the fence and the warriors circled her. “I’ll take the lead,” the deputy whispered, her voice hardly louder than the breeze. “If I spot a kittypet, I’ll let you know. We’ll separate into groups to issue each warning. No need for all of us to terrorize one cat!”
There was a purr of amusement through the patrol, but Pinepaw was aware of tension crackling through the air like lightning. He flexed his legs in turn, preparing his muscles for battle moves, if only to strike fear into the too-bold kittypets.
Suddenly Doefeather was vanishing over the fence, her paws hardly seeming to touch the wood as she leaped to the top and disappeared down the other side. The patrol streamed after her and the fence creaked ominously under the weight of so many cats. Pinepaw jumped down to the short, soft grass and felt the others land around him, hardly visible in the shadows beneath a heavily scented tree. Doefeather trotted into the moonlight cast on the grass and the rest of the cats followed in silence, ears pricked and muzzles open to taste the air. They rounded the edge of the silent Twoleg den and entered a narrow gap between red stone walls, too high to jump up on. Doefeather picked up speed and they burst out onto a little Thunderpath, lined with sleeping monsters.
A pair of yellow eyes gleamed on the far side of the Thunderpath. Doefeather jerked her muzzle. “Rooktail, Harepounce, Flashpaw, off you go.”
The three cats bounded across the hard black stone and Pinepaw heard a thrum of paws as the kittypet tried to run away. Rooktail let out a screech and the warriors sped up, hurtling around a corner with the kittypet yowling just ahead of them.
Doefeather nodded in satisfaction. “Come on,” she ordered the rest of the patrol. They followed the Thunderpath between the Twoleg dens, keeping to the shadows cast by the motionless monsters. Pinepaw felt his pelt crawl at being so close to the stinking silver beasts, and he prayed to StarClan that none of them suddenly woke up.
The soft rumble of a mew drifted on the warm air, and Doefeather froze, her tail up in warning. Pinepaw strained his ears and picked up the sounds of two cats talking quietly beyond a low gray wall. Doefeather pointed to him and Mistpelt. “You can take those. Squirrelwhisker, you go with them. Daisypaw and Littlepaw, stay with me.”
Mistpelt nodded and set off toward the wall at a run. Pinepaw followed with Squirrelwhisker at his heels. Watch out, kittypets! Here comes ThunderClan!
They bounded over the wall and crouched down among the shadows. Two shapes were outlined in moonlight on the far side of a stretch of pale stones. “We’ll make too much noise if we approach them directly,” Mistpelt whispered. “Get back on the wall and see if we can follow it around.”
They jumped onto the wall and padded along it, crouching low to avoid making too large a silhouette. Pinepaw concentrated on keeping his balance low and steady, even though his heart was pounding hard enough to make him out of breath. They passed a deep shadow between the wall and a much smaller den made of wood. Mistpelt hesitated, pricking her ears.
“I think I hear something down here. Pinepaw, check it out.”
Pinepaw gulped. On my own? Then he told himself that he was very nearly a warrior, and if Mistpelt trusted him, he wasn’t going to argue. As the others continued along the wall, he sprang down into the shadow. It was almost pitch black down here, and he blinked hard to force his eyes to adjust. A pair of eyes shone out of the darkness and the scent of several cats reached Pinepaw, making his fur stand on end. He crouched down, ready to leap at the kittypets and give them a demonstration of how ThunderClan warriors were brave and ready to fight.
Before he could move, a paw lashed out at him, almost taking off his whiskers. Pinepaw found himself face-to-face with a furious she-cat, her teeth bared and her claws glinting in the moonlight.
“It’s you!” he gasped. This was the cat who had faced down the mother fox. In all of Twolegplace, Pinepaw had found her—this time as an enemy.
“Get away from here!” the she-cat snarled.
Pinepaw bristled. “Don’t tell me what to do, kittypet! I’m a ThunderClan cat!”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” hissed the she-cat.
Pinepaw braced himself for a full strike with his front paws. Then he caught a different scent, one that he had smelled a long time ago, soft and milky and filled with tender memories. There are kits here!
He looked at the she-cat and saw the same fury that had been in the eyes of the fox. This cat was frightened of nothing, not when she had her kits to protect. And did she really deserve to be attacked, after she had saved his life? Pinepaw took a step back and forced his fur to lie down.
“It’s okay,” he mewed. “Your babies are safe. I’m not going to hurt them.”
“I wasn’t going to let you,” growled the she-cat.
“I know you weren’t,” Pinepaw mewed hastily. He didn’t want this cat to think she needed to prove a point.
Beyond the walls that sheltered them, the air was split with yowls and screeches and thudding paws as the ThunderClan cats rousted and startled kittypets.
The she-cat’s eyes grew huge. “What’s going on?”
Pinepaw glanced over his shoulder. “I… er… we came to teach a lesson to the kittypets who’ve been straying into our territory.”
“A lesson in what? That we aren’t safe in our own homes?”
“No, that you’re not welcome in ours.”
The she-cat harrumphed. “Well, it wasn’t me. I’ve got more than enough to deal with here.”
As she spoke, three tiny faces peeked out from behind her. Above them, a sharp white light flicked on, and Pinepaw found himself staring at a ginger tom with the greenest eyes he had ever seen. He flinched at the sudden brightness. “What’s that?”
The she-cat shrugged. “My housefolk put a light on so I can find my way back at night.” She curled her tail around the kits. “Come on, little ones. It’s time for bed.” She started to usher the kits past Pinepaw. “Are you going to chase me into my house?” she teased.
Pinepaw shook his head. Suddenly there was a yowl above him, and a scrabble of paws.
“Pinepaw? Are you down there?” Mistpelt was standing on top of the wall, unable to see Pinepaw and the kittypets in the tiny gap.
The she-cat’s eyes stretched wide and her tail folded more closely around her kits. Pinepaw gave a tiny shake of his head. I won’t bring them to you, he promised silently.
“Just coming!” he called up to his mentor. “There’s nothing down here.” He stepped back and let the she-cat move into the shadow with her kits. She broke into a trot, her babies scampering behind her. Just before they vanished around the corner of their den, the ginger tom looked back at Pinepaw.
“Thank you!” mewed the tiny cat, and Pinepaw nodded.
“Are you stuck in something?” Mistpelt bellowed. “Where are you?”
Pinepaw whisked around and jumped up onto the wall. “I’m here, everything’s fine,” he panted.
Mistpelt twitched the tip of her tail. “While you’ve been hiding down there, the rest of us have chased off that pair of chattering kittypets. Doefeather is waiting for us on the Thunderpath, come on.”
Pinepaw followed his mentor at a run along the wall and joined the rest of the patrol in a patch of shadow cast by a huge, straight-backed monster. Doefeather looked around at her Clanmates and nodded. “A highly successful mission,” she declared with a purr. “Those kittypets have learned we won’t stand for trespassing!” She set off along the side of the den, following the path that led back to the fence. “Come on, let’s go tell Oakstar that our boundary is safe once more!”