But I might have kin, she had told herself, summoning up the determination to keep going. Actual blood kin, and I haven’t even met them yet. And if Alderheart and Ivypool cared so much about me, they would have made more of an effort to help me, wouldn’t they?
Now Twigpaw picked up her pace, a twinge of pain throbbing through her leg at every paw step. She had long ago crossed the top of the ridge beyond the horseplace, leaving the lake far behind. All the sights and scents were different here, and Twigpaw’s fur began to bristle at every unexplained sound in the undergrowth. She desperately tried to remember the route she had taken when Ivypool and Alderheart had gone with her to look for her mother.
I think I know the way to the tunnel under the Thunderpath. But after that…? All I know is that Alderheart said that SkyClan had taken shelter in a barn, which I guess is a Twoleg dwelling…
For a moment, Twigpaw feared she was being completely mouse-brained. She paused, wondering if the sensible thing would be to go back. But then her resolve hardened.
I need my kin more than ever now, because I don’t have Violetpaw anymore. I’m not going to think about my so-called sister ever again! I’ll have something else now… A father, maybe.
When she was a kit, Twigpaw had thought only of how she had lost her mother. She hadn’t considered what it would be like to have a father.
That would be wonderful, too, she decided now.
She set off again, thinking about the relationship Alderheart had with Bramblestar. Sure, they disagree a lot, but a blind rabbit could see how much they love each other. Alderheart always knows that Bramblestar will be there for him, to look after and guide him.
Just in front of Twigpaw, a stream crossed her path like a shining snake wriggling through the grass. The surface glittered in the sunlight, dazzling Twigpaw’s eyes as she stood on the bank looking down at it.
“I hate getting my paws wet,” she hissed through her teeth.
Even the shallow stream that divided ThunderClan from WindClan reminded Twigpaw of the time she had nearly drowned in the lake. When she crossed that stream on the way to a Gathering, she had Clanmates around her who could help her if she got into trouble. Now she was alone.
Then Twigpaw imagined that her father was standing beside her. Come on, Twigpaw, he might say. You can do it!
Twigpaw was so focused on him that she could almost hear his voice.
“Yes, I can!” she replied, and waded out into the water with her head held proudly high.
She flinched at the sensation of cold water creeping through her pelt, rising higher and higher as she ventured deeper. The pebbles underpaw were slippery, and the current tugged at her, so she was afraid of losing her footing and being swept away. She put each paw down firmly, trying to ignore the racing of her heart.
The water grew deeper until it lapped and tugged at Twigpaw’s belly fur, then swiftly receded as she climbed up the stream bed on the opposite side. Scrambling out onto the bank, she gave herself a vigorous shake, glittering drops of water spinning away into the air.
“I did it!” she announced, pride flooding through her as she imagined her father’s nod of approval.
She could hear the warmth in his voice as he meowed, I knew you could.
But Twigpaw had barely taken a pace away from the stream when a sudden noise chased the happy thoughts from her head. It sounded like the barking of a fox—only it was much, much louder. The ground shook with the thundering of many paws.
Twigpaw tensed, and whirled to face the origin of the noise. Her jaws gaped in horror as she saw three enormous creatures bounding across the grass toward her. Their bodies were lean and muscular, with short brindled pelts. Their eyes gleamed with menace, but what terrified Twigpaw most of all were their gaping jaws, with huge tongues lolling from a mouthful of sharp fangs.
For a heartbeat Twigpaw froze. Then she spun around and began to run, ignoring the pain that clawed through her injured leg.
Are those dogs? she wondered, pelting along with her belly fur brushing the grass. She remembered how Ivypool had warned her against the savage creatures that sometimes came with Twolegs into the forest. I’ve never seen one before, let alone three…
And they look very, very hungry!
As she fled, Twigpaw picked up a dull roar ahead of her, growing louder until it rivaled the barking of the dogs. And she spotted the unnatural shiny flicker of monsters speeding to and fro.
The Thunderpath… I’ll be trapped between it and the dogs!
Casting a terrified glance over her shoulder, Twigpaw saw that the dogs were gaining on her. She imagined that she could feel their hot breath on her hindquarters. Looking ahead again, she could see nothing that might help her except for a tree growing close to the Thunderpath.
Then she remembered Ivypool’s words: “Dogs are scary, but they’re pretty dumb, and too heavy to climb trees.”
I hope these are dogs, Twigpaw thought, veering to one side and racing for the tree. And I hope what Ivypool said was right. There’s no time to think of anything else!
Reaching the tree, Twigpaw hurled herself upward, digging her claws deep into the bark. Scurrying up the trunk as fast as she could, she heard the snapping of jaws below her tail, and whisked it out of reach just in time.
Scrambling onto a forking branch, Twigpaw looked down. All three dogs were at the bottom of the tree, their forelegs reaching upward to rest on the tree trunk. Their deep-chested barking went on and on, and Twigpaw recoiled a little at the vicious threat in their eyes. But she realized that they couldn’t climb up to get at her.
I’m safe! she thought. Thank you, Ivypool!
Twigpaw’s heart was still pounding from fear and the exertion of the chase. To be extra safe, she decided to climb higher, her confidence returning as she bounded from branch to branch. Clustering leaves cut off the sight of the dogs below, though she could still hear their barking.
“Bark on, flea-pelts!” she meowed triumphantly. “You’re not eating cat today!”
When Twigpaw finally came to a halt, she could see the land stretching away into the distance in every direction. But most of her view was cut off by leaves.
“I should find somewhere I can see better,” she muttered to herself. “I might even be able to spot the barn from Alderheart’s vision.”
Setting her paws down cautiously, Twigpaw ventured onto a branch that stretched out over the Thunderpath. On the opposite side of the hard black surface she could see trees and undergrowth and Twoleg nests, but nothing that gave her any idea of where to go next.
When she looked down, Twigpaw could see the monsters roaring past her on the Thunderpath. Their fumes rose up to her like smoke, and she gagged on the acrid taste. The noise and the bright, speeding colors confused her, and her head began to spin. She wanted to retreat along the branch, back to the safety of crisscrossing branches and clumps of leaves, but her paws felt clumsy, and the branch kept shifting under her weight.
As she began to edge backward, Twigpaw felt her paws slipping. Letting out a yowl of alarm, she slid out her claws, but they raked uselessly across the surface of the branch. Twigpaw’s yowl rose into a panic-stricken screech as she felt herself falling. She bounced off a lower branch, and her shriek was abruptly cut off as she thumped down onto the Thunderpath, the blow driving all the breath out of her body.
Looking up, dazed, Twigpaw saw a huge monster bearing down on her, screeching as it came. Two Twolegs were trapped inside the monster’s belly. Their eyes were staring and their jaws wide open as if they were yowling.