“There won’t be another time,” Stormfur meowed. “We’re just passing through.”
“Thank you for helping us,” Brambleclaw added. “I was beginning to think we’d never escape.”
The tabby ignored his thanks. “Just passin’ through, eh?” he mewed. “I’ll bet you’ve a story to tell. Why not stay awhile an’ share it wi’ me?” He stood up and braced himself, ready to jump down into the clearing.
“Down there?” Squirrelpaw sounded nervous. “What if that dog comes back?”
“It won’t. It’s gone home now. Come on.”
The old cat scrambled down the ivy-covered trunk and ungracefully dropped the last foxlength to the ground.
Looking up, he opened his jaws wide in a yawn. “Comin’?”
Brambleclaw leaped down after him; he wasn’t going to let this elder, or kittypet, or whatever he was, show more bravery than warriors. His companions joined him, clustering around to gaze uncertainly at the stranger.
“Who are you?” Stormfur asked. “Are you a kittypet?”
The old tom looked blank. “Kittypet?”
“Living with Twolegs,” Squirrelpaw mewed impatiently.
“Twolegs?”
“Oh, let’s go,” Crowpaw’s ears twitched in contempt. “There are bees in his brain. We won’t get any sense out of him.”
“Who’re you callin’ senseless, young fellow?” The tabby tom’s voice was a deep rumble, and his claws extended to sink into the leaves under his paws.
“Sorry,” Brambleclaw meowed hastily, with a glare at Crowpaw; the apprentice might have shown amazing courage, but that didn’t make him any less annoying. Turning to the old cat, he began to explain. “Twolegs, like the one who came to fetch the dog.”
“Oh, you’re talkin’ about Upwalkers. Why didn’t you say so? No, I don’t live with Upwalkers. Used to once, mind you.
Those were the days!” He settled down at the foot of the tree, gazing into the distance as if he were looking back at the young cat he had once been. “A fire to sleep by, an’ all the food I could eat.”
Brambleclaw wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.
Firestar always said that kittypet food was nowhere near as tasty as fresh-kill you caught yourself. As for sleeping beside a fire… Brambleclaw remembered the fire that had swept through the ThunderClan camp, and the very thought of it made his fur prickle.
“Talking of food,” Crowpaw meowed loudly, “we need to get on and hunt. There should be prey somewhere among these trees. Here, you…” He stretched out a paw and prodded the old cat, who had drifted into a doze. “What’s the prey like around here?”
The tabby opened one amber eye. “Young cats,” he muttered. “Always dashin’ off. There’s no need to catch your own squeakers in these parts. Not if you know where to go.”
“Well, we don’t.” Squirrelpaw flicked her ears back irritably.
“Please, won’t you tell us?” Feathertail asked the old cat.
“We’re strangers here, so we don’t know the good places. We’ve been traveling a long way, and we’re all very hungry.”
Her gentle tone, and the pleading look she gave him from liquid blue eyes, seemed to win over the old cat. “I might show you,” he replied, scratching himself vigorously behind the ear with one hind paw.
“That would be very kind of you,” Stormfur added, coming to stand beside his sister.
The old cat’s gaze traveled over them, coming to rest at last on Brambleclaw. “Six of you,” he mewed. “That’s a powerful lot to feed. Who are you, anyway? Why don’t you have Upwalkers of your own?”
“We’re warriors!” Brambleclaw explained. He introduced himself and his companions. “I suppose you must be a loner,” he finished, “if you don’t live with Twolegs—I mean Upwalkers.”
Trying to sound as polite as Feathertail, he added, “Won’t you tell us your name?”
“Name? Don’t rightly reckon I’ve got one. Upwalkers feed me, though I don’t stay with them none. They call me different names—a cat can’t be expected to remember them all.”
“You must have had a name to begin with,” Squirrelpaw insisted, rolling her eyes at Brambleclaw.
“Yes, what was your name when you lived with the… the Upwalker who had the fire?” Feathertail asked.
The old cat gave the other ear a good scratch. “Well, now… that was a long time ago.” He let out a gusty sigh. “A long time and a good time. I caught more squeakers in that Upwalker den than you youngsters have seen in your whole lives.”
“So why did you leave, if it was as good as all that?”
Tawnypelt asked; Brambleclaw could see by her twitching tail that her patience was running out.
“My Upwalker died.” The tabby shook his head as if he were trying to flick away a clinging burr. “No more food… no more strokin’ by the fire, dozin’ on his lap… More Upwalkers came after that, an’ set traps for me, but I was cunnin’, see. I went away.”
“But what was your name?” Squirrelpaw hissed at him through clenched teeth. “What did the Upwalker call you?”
“Name… oh, yes, my name. Purdy, that’s right. He called me Purdy.”
“At last!” Squirrelpaw muttered.
“We’ll call you Purdy, then, shall we?” Brambleclaw meowed, batting Squirrelpaw’s muzzle with the tip of his tail.
The old tabby heaved himself to his paws. “Suit yourselves.
Now, do you want food or don’t you?”
He padded off through the trees. Brambleclaw exchanged a doubtful glance with his friends. “Do you think we should trust him?”
“No!” Crowpaw replied at once. “He was a kittypet. Warriors can’t trust kittypets.”
Tawnypelt murmured agreement, but Feathertail meowed, “We’re all so hungry, and we don’t know these woods. Would it do any harm, just for once?”
“I’m starving!” added Squirrelpaw, her claws flexing impatiently.
“StarClan know we could do with some help,” Stormfur mewed. “I can’t say I like it, but so long as we keep our eyes open…”
“Okay, then,” Brambleclaw decided. “We’ll risk it.”
He led the way, bounding quickly through the undergrowth to catch up to the old tom, who was ambling ahead as if he did not care whether they followed him or not. To Brambleclaw’s surprise, Purdy didn’t show them anywhere in the wood where they could catch prey. Instead he made straight for the far side, where a narrow strip of grass separated the last of the trees from a row of Twoleg nests. Purdy strolled confidently across the grass toward the nearest fence without even looking to see if there was danger.
“Hey!” Crowpaw halted on the edge of the wood.
“Where’s he taking us? I’m not going into a Twoleg nest!”
Brambleclaw halted too. For once he agreed with Crowpaw. “Purdy, wait!” he called. “We’re warriors—we don’t go into Upwalker places.”
The old cat paused at the bottom of the fence and looked back, his face creased in amusement. “Scared, are you?”
Crowpaw took a single step forward, his legs stiff and his neck fur bristling. “Say that again!” he hissed.
To Brambleclaw’s surprise, Purdy didn’t flinch a single whisker, even though Brambleclaw would bet that Crowpaw could have ripped him apart.
“Touchy, ain’t he?” the old cat mewed. “Don’t you worry none, young fellow. There’ll be no Upwalkers around just yet.
And there’s good food in their garden.”
Brambleclaw looked at the others. “What do you think?”
“I think we should give it a try,” meowed Stormfur. “We need food.”
“Yes, let’s just get on,” Tawnypelt muttered.
Feathertail nodded eagerly and Squirrelpaw gave a little excited bounce. Only Crowpaw stayed apart, staring ahead without replying to Brambleclaw’s question.