“Don’t be rabbit-brained!” Jake’s eyes flashed. “You hate it there! You’d be so unhappy.” He paused, his tone softening. “I’d hate for you to be unhappy.”
“Then why are you leaving?” Talltail pleaded. “You’re the best friend I ever had.”
“I’ll always be your friend, Talltail,” Jake meowed. “But I’m a kittypet, and you’re a warrior.” He stepped forward and rested his muzzle on Talltail’s head. “You’ll always be a warrior.”
Chapter 40
You’ll always be a warrior. Jake’s words echoed in Talltail’s mind as he headed up the hill toward the WindClan camp. The kittypet had assured him he’d be okay going back through the woods.
“I’ll follow our trail through the brambles,” Jake had promised. “I’ll be fine.”
Talltail trusted him. Jake wasn’t a rabbit-brain. He’d learned enough to travel silently and keep his ears and nose open for signs of warrior patrols. Will I be fine, too? The idea of walking into his old home suddenly seemed far scarier than retracing his steps through enemy territory. Will they take me back?
Talltail forced his fur to smooth along his spine. He could smell his Clanmates all around him. Every tuft of heather carried familiar scents. Redclaw, Aspenfall, Mistmouse, and Appledawn had passed along this grassy track not long ago. Talltail imagined their paw prints still warm on the grass. He gazed across the swathe of dusky heather. Darker clumps of gorse grew up ahead, marking one end of the WindClan camp.
His heart pounded like rabbit paws on hollow ground. He pricked his ears. The wind blustered over the moor-top; far away a buzzard’s wings beat the air, and closer, the tiny, excited squeal of a kit shrilled through the air. Wrenkit!
Happiness flashed through Talltail’s paws. The brown she-kit had been less than a moon when he’d left. She must be over two moons old by now. He could hear her calling to her littermate.
“Flykit! Come and look!”
“I’m coming!”
Talltail paused. It sounded like the kits were out of camp, their mews as clear as birdcalls beyond the heather. He slid between the branches and crept forward, peering through the stems.
Wrenkit was sniffing at the entrance to a rabbit burrow. “Should we go in?”
Flykit blinked, huge-eyed. “It’s very dark down there.”
“We can use our noses and whiskers to find our way.”
“What if we meet a rabbit?” Talltail could see Flykit’s pelt spiking. He was no bigger than a half-grown rabbit himself. But it wasn’t rabbits he should be afraid of. Talltail’s fur rippled along his spine. They knew nothing about tunneling. They might get lost. And the tunnels had been neglected for moons. No one had checked their roofs or walls, or shored up the stretches weakened by rain or frost. Talltail began to nose his way out of the heather. He had to stop the kits before they disappeared inside.
A shadow flitted across the grass. Wings beat the air overhead. Talltail looked up. A hawk circled low just above him. He could see by the tilt of its head that it was watching the kits. They’d make a tasty treat for a bird of prey and its young. As Talltail opened his mouth to warn them, the hawk folded its wings and plummeted straight down.
“Wrenkit!” Talltail lunged forward. “Watch out!”
Wrenkit jerked up her head, eyes wide in shock. Flykit jumped back, hissing. The air whistled above as the hawk dived.
Talltail thrust out his forepaws, landing squarely across the two frozen kits. Pulling them to him, he bundled them down the rabbit hole before leaping high into the air. He unsheathed his claws and swiped at the hawk as it flapped at his head. Its broad, brown wings stuttered and stalled, sending feathers spiraling down.
Talltail hooked the bird from the sky and pinned it to the ground. Faster than a snake, he bit down on its thick neck, crunching through muscle and bone. The hawk fell still beneath him.
Wrenkit’s tiny face stared out of the hole. “You caught it!” she squeaked.
Flykit crept from the shadows, pelt thick with soil. “Talltail?” He blinked, confusion clouding his gaze. “What are you doing here?”
“He’s come home!” Wrenkit’s eyes lit up. “I knew he would!” She bounced toward Talltail, clambering onto his shoulders as he crouched over the body of the hawk. “And he saved us!”
“No one’s ever caught a hawk before!” Flykit stared at the golden feathers of the dead bird.
“Whiteberry might disagree with you,” Talltail purred. It felt good to feel kit paws on his shoulders again. He glanced at Flykit. “Do you want a badger ride home?”
Flykit looked crestfallen. “We were going to sneak back through the dirtplace tunnel,” he mewed. “We’re not supposed to be out of the camp.”
“No! You’re not!” Larksplash’s stern mew sounded from upslope. She was marching toward them, tail flicking angrily.
Talltail watched, his breath catching in his throat. The she-cat’s eyes were fixed on the kits.
“Palebird was worried sick—” Larksplash halted. “Talltail?” She blinked at him in disbelief. “You’re back?” Her gaze dropped to the hawk at his paws.
“Yes, I’m back.” Talltail leaned down and nosed the hawk. “I’ve brought prey.”
Wrenkit clung to his shoulders, her sharp claws digging in. “He saved us!” she squealed. “That hawk was diving at us and Talltail jumped up and plucked it out of the air like it was a swallow.”
Larksplash stopped. Uncertainty showed in her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Talltail told her. “You don’t have to welcome me. I chose to leave the Clan.”
Wrenkit fidgeted on his shoulders. “You went on an adventure!”
Flykit scrambled over the hawk’s carcass and tried to jump up beside his sister. Talltail crouched down to let him on.
“You should speak with Heatherstar,” Larksplash murmured.
“I know.” Talltail padded forward, stepping carefully so the kits could keep their balance. He felt the warmth of their bellies as they pressed close against this back. They were heavier than the last time he’d given them a badger ride.
“Do big paw steps!” Wrenkit begged.
“We won’t fall; we promise!” Flykit mewed.
Talltail lifted his paws high, thumping them down to jolt the kits as they clung on, squealing with delight. When Talltail reached the clearing outside camp, a black-and-white pelt slid through the heather and halted on the grass.
“There you are!” Palebird stared angrily over Talltail’s head. “Heatherstar was about to order a search party.”
“Talltail’s home!” Wrenkit scrabbled from Talltail’s shoulders and hurried to meet her mother.
“He saved us from a hawk!” Flykit jumped down after her and weaved through Palebird’s legs.
“Talltail?” Palebird stared at her son.
He stared back. Had she forgotten him already?
Palebird snatched her gaze away. “You know they weren’t supposed to be out of camp.” She gave Wrenkit’s head a brisk lick. “Why in the name of StarClan were you playing with them, Talltail?” she snapped. “You should have brought them straight home.”
Talltail blinked at her. Palebird was acting like he’d never left. But I did leave. He lifted his chin. “I was bringing them home,” he meowed. “You shouldn’t have let them out of the camp. They were nearly taken by a hawk.”
Larksplash stopped beside him. “He’s right, Palebird,” she meowed. “If Talltail hadn’t come back when he did, you’d have lost them.”
Wrenkit gazed up at her mother with round eyes. “He put us down a rabbit hole and caught the hawk.”