“That’s food!” Sparkpaw whispered. “I can smell it. But why are they putting it in there?”
“Maybe that’s where Twolegs store food,” Alderpaw suggested. “I expect when they’re hungry they’ll come back for it.”
“No.” Alderpaw jumped to realize that Sandstorm had padded up beside him. “That’s just where Twolegs leave their extra food when they don’t want it anymore.”
“How could they not want it?” Sparkpaw asked. “It smells amazing!”
Alderpaw tasted the air, and his jaws began to water at the delicious scent that flooded over him. He realized how hungry he was.
“Twolegs are very strange,” Molewhisker commented, as he and Cherryfall padded up to join the others.
Alderpaw watched as the two adult Twolegs also got into the monster with their kits. He started as the monster woke up with a ferocious roar, flooding the air with an acrid scent, then swiveled around and moved off, its black paws rolling faster and faster on the black
Thunderpath stuff until it disappeared among the trees.
“Did the monster just eat them?” Sparkpaw asked, her eyes stretched wide with horror.
Sandstorm shook her head. “No, the monsters just let Twolegs ride inside them. I don’t even try to understand it.”
“I told you Twolegs are strange,” Molewhisker mewed. “And that goes for their monsters, too. Mind you,” he added after a moment, “they may be strange, but some of their food is really tasty. I’m not too keen on Twolegs, but it would be mouse-brained to let their food go to waste when it’s right there.”
He waved his tail at the open-topped rock.
The cats glanced at one another.
“I’m not sure… ,” Sandstorm murmured.
“You know that warriors don’t eat kittypet food.”
“It’s not kittypet food,” Cherryfall argued.
“It’s Twoleg food.”
“Well… okay,” Sandstorm agreed reluctantly. “You see if you can get it out of there. I’ll keep watch.”
She stayed by the ferns at the edge of the clearing while Sparkpaw eagerly led the way over to the rock. Alderpaw looked up; there was shiny black stuff poking out of the cave at its top, and its sides were shiny silver with no paw holds.
“How are we going to get in?” Molewhisker asked, sounding as if he didn’t really expect an answer.
Cherryfall tried climbing up, but her paws skidded on the smooth surface of the rock, and she slipped back before she got anywhere near the top. “Mouse dung!” she exclaimed.
“I’ve got an idea!” Sparkpaw’s fur bristled and her tail bushed out with excitement. “Stand back, all of you.”
She trotted back for several fox-lengths, then raced and took a flying leap to the top of the rock, balancing precariously on the cave’s edge.
“Come down!” Cherryfall yowled. “You’ll fall in, and how will we get you out?”
“I’m fine!” Sparkpaw squealed.
She swayed to and fro as she gripped the top edge of the cave with her paws. The rock tilted with her weight and suddenly tipped over.
Sparkpaw leaped to safety as the rock thumped to the ground and masses of Twoleg stuff spilled out of it.
“There you go,” Sparkpaw panted, a smug look on her face. “Easy.”
Molewhisker put his head into the cave, Twoleg leaf wraps crackling under his paws, and emerged with a lump of something in his jaws.
Alderpaw breathed in more of the enticing smell.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Dunno,” Molewhisker mumbled around his prey. “Some kind of bird, I think. Go and get some. There’s plenty.”
Sparkpaw instantly followed, dragging out a huge piece of the bird. “This is so big it must have been an eagle,” she meowed. “I’ll share it with Sandstorm.”
Alderpaw and then Cherryfall ventured in and collected some of the prey for themselves.
“Thanks, Sparkpaw,” Alderpaw murmured as he joined the group beside the ferns. “You’re really good at hunting Twoleg prey, too!”
Biting into his piece of fresh-kill, Alderpaw realized that it tasted even better than it smelled. But as he gulped it down, he began to feel a prickling in his pelt, as if some creature was watching him. He tried to tell himself not to be stupid, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling.
A rustling sound came from the trees.
Alderpaw tensed, glancing back over his shoulder.
Maybe the crazy Twoleg kit came back?
Or maybe the Twolegs weren’t really done with their food after all.
But the rustling died away, and there was nothing to be seen. Alderpaw tried to pick up a scent, but the aroma of the delicious Twoleg prey swamped everything else. He turned back to finish his food, trying to tell himself that he was imagining things.
It’s weird… I just have the feeling that we’re being watched.
Chapter 10
The sun was going down, the sky a blaze of scarlet, as the cats plodded on through the trees. Alderpaw’s belly was growling with hunger; he had felt so tense since sunhigh, moving farther and farther away from his home, that he hadn’t realized the pain in his belly was because he hadn’t eaten. It felt like days since they had eaten the Twoleg food.
“I think we ought to stop and hunt,” Molewhisker meowed. “It’ll be dark soon.”
Sandstorm looked undecided. “We still need to get across the Thunderpath,” she responded. “I thought we might cross first, and then hunt.”
Alderpaw noticed for the first time an acrid tang in the air, and a distant rumbling sound that he would have thought was thunder, except that the sky was clear. The scent reminded him of the monster that had swallowed the Twolegs, and he realized it must come from the Thunderpath.
“But I’m starving!” Sparkpaw protested to Sandstorm. “Please can we hunt first?”
Sandstorm twitched her whiskers. “Okay,” she agreed at last. “I’m hungry myself, I admit it.”
Before she had finished speaking, Sparkpaw plunged into the undergrowth and emerged a few moments later with the limp body of a vole in her jaws.
“Good job,” Sandstorm commented with a nod of approval.
“I don’t know how she does it,” Molewhisker muttered.
At the same time as he admired Sparkpaw’s skill, Alderpaw tried to subdue his feelings of envy. It was even harder when Molewhisker turned to him and mewed, “Do you want to hunt with me, Alderpaw?”
“Yeah… sure.” Alderpaw guessed that Molewhisker didn’t think he was capable of catching prey by himself. It’s like being his apprentice again, he thought as he followed his former mentor into a clump of thickly growing hazel bushes.
“Try the way I taught you before,” Molewhisker suggested. “Concentrate on one small area at a time. That seemed to be working well for you.”
Not well enough, Alderpaw reflected, crouching down and focusing on the fallen leaves and twigs underneath the nearest hazel bush. Sniffing carefully, he caught the scent of mouse, and a moment later he spotted it almost hidden by a heap of dead leaves.
Trying to remember everything he had learned when he was Molewhisker’s apprentice, Alderpaw crept forward. The mouse seemed unaware of him, scuffling about among the leaves. Then Alderpaw paused, his gaze flicking to a branch above his head. Do I have room to pounce? Will I touch the branch and alert the mouse?