“Hey!” the kittypet wailed indignantly, trying to wriggle free of Tigerheart’s grip.
“I don’t have time to fight,” Tigerheart meowed firmly. “I’m looking for someone. If I let you up, will you back off?”
The kittypet squirmed. “But why? I’m having fun!”
“Just back off,” Tigerheart growled.
The kittypet stopped squirming. “Okay.”
Tigerheart let him go.
The kittypet leaped to his paws and backed away, his eyes bright. “That was an awesome move,” he mewed. “Can you show me how you did it?”
“I said I don’t have time.” Tigerheart’s pelt prickled with irritation. Every moment that passed, Dovewing was getting further away.
“Do you need to get back to your Twolegs?” the kittypet tom asked.
“I don’t have Twolegs,” Tigerheart told him. “I’m a warrior.”
“A warrior!” The kittypet’s eyes widened in wonder. “That’s why you fight so good. I’ve heard about warriors. Have you been one for long?”
“Since I was born.” Tigerheart supposed that was a bit inaccurate—he’d been a kit and an apprentice first—but that didn’t seem worth explaining to this kittypet, whose eyes widened with interest.
“Do you live in the wild?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Tigerheart paused. What a mouse-brained question. “Why do you live with Twolegs?”
But the kittypet seemed more interested in Tigerheart’s life than his own. “Don’t you get cold and hungry?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you really fight foxes and badgers?”
“When we have to.” Tigerheart’s pelt rippled along his spine. This was taking too long.
“Fuzzball,” the she-cat cut in gently, clearly sensing Tigerheart’s impatience. “Give him a break.”
“Fuzzball?” Tigerheart’s whiskers twitched in surprise. “Is that your name?”
Fuzzball blinked at him. “Of course.”
Didn’t this kittypet mind having such a dumb name? Tigerheart stared at him. “I’ve never heard of a cat called Fuzzball before.”
“What’s your name?” Fuzzball asked.
“Tigerheart.”
The ginger tabby’s eyes widened, impressed. “That’s a great name!” He blinked at the she-cat. “Tigerheart.” Saying the name seemed to please him, and he purred. “I want to be called Tigerheart.”
The she-cat blinked at him fondly. “I think Fuzzball suits you better.”
“Not as much as Tigerheart would!”
As Fuzzball puffed out his chest, the she-cat dipped her head to Tigerheart. “My name is Rose. I’m sorry we can’t help you find your friend, but you said that she was looking for a place with nests that reach the sky.” She turned to Fuzzball. “Do you know where that is?”
Fuzzball looked pleased to be asked. “No.” He blinked at Tigerheart. “But Ajax might. He told me that he and his Twolegs once lived in a den so high he could look down at the birds.”
Tigerheart pressed back a shudder. Why would anything without wings want to live in the sky?
“Come on.” Fuzzball headed around the side of the Twoleg nest. “I’ll take you to Ajax.”
Tigerheart nodded quickly to Rose. “Thanks for your help.”
She tipped her head. “Good luck!” she called as he followed Fuzzball. “I hope you find your friend.”
Fuzzball wasn’t a good fighter, but he did know how to travel through Twoleg territory. Tigerheart hurried to keep up as the ginger kittypet led him through a maze of paths and tracks that wove between Twoleg nests, over grassy clearings, and around fences. The tom showed no fear as he dodged beneath monsters sleeping in front of nests and slid between them as they dozed beside Thunderpaths.
“Here,” he meowed, stopping at last on the grassy square behind a yellow Twoleg nest. While Tigerheart caught his breath, overwhelmed by the countless new scents that filled his nose and distracted by noises he didn’t recognize, Fuzzball lifted his muzzle and yowled. “Ajax!” He looked expectantly at the nest.
A moment later, a clear flap clattered open near the bottom and a burly black-and-white tom squeezed out. He lifted his tail as he saw Fuzzball. “Hey, Fuzz! Are you looking for a fight?” His eyes sparked warmly.
“Not today,” Fuzzball purred back. “Although this cat could teach you a thing or two about fighting. He totally beat me.”
“Rose could beat you in a fight,” Ajax teased.
Fuzzball flicked his tail. “One day I’m going to be the best fighter in the neighborhood.”
Ajax wove around him, brushing pelts with the fluffy tom. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But you need to spend less time at your food dish and more time patrolling your territory.”
Tigerheart’s ears pricked in surprise. “Do kittypets patrol territory too?”
Ajax swung his wide head toward Tigerheart and narrowed his eyes. “Of course. If we have territory to patrol.”
“But you’re not warriors,” Tigerheart pointed out.
“What’s a warrior?” Ajax poked his muzzle forward and sniffed Tigerheart.
“Haven’t you heard of warriors?” Fuzzball whisked his tail. He seemed happy to know more than his friend. “They’re strays that live in the wild.”
Ajax blinked sympathetically at Tigerheart. “Couldn’t you find a Twoleg to take you in?”
Tigerheart’s pelt bristled. “I wouldn’t want a Twoleg to take me in.”
Fuzzball lifted his muzzle. “He likes being a stray.”
“A warrior,” Tigerheart corrected.
“Well, whatever you are…” Ajax circled him slowly. “You look lost.”
Tigerheart warily eyed the Twoleg den behind Ajax. What if a Twoleg came out? “I’m traveling somewhere to find a friend,” he explained.
“His friend was heading for a place with nests that reach to the sky, like the one you used to live in,” Fuzzball told Ajax.
“She had a dream that told her there was a den there with a spiky roof,” Tigerheart added.
“She?” Ajax exchanged meaningful looks with Fuzzball. “Is this a romantic quest?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “If you’re looking for romance, there are plenty of she-cats here.”
“This one’s special.” Tigerheart’s pelt prickled hotly. Didn’t kittypets fall in love?
“Whatever.” Ajax shrugged. “If your friend was heading for a place with sky-high nests, she was probably looking for the Twolegplace I come from.” The black-and-white tom glanced at his Twoleg nest disdainfully. “It’s way bigger than this place. I used to live in a huge den filled with Twoleg nests. From the window, the Thunderpaths below looked tiny. Everything looked tiny. Twolegs looked like prey from up there. Even the monsters looked like prey.”
Tigerheart swallowed. Dovewing was in a place where the dens reached so high that the monsters looked tiny. He had to get to her. “Is there a den there with big spikes like gorse thorns on the roof?”
Ajax narrowed his eyes. “Like gorse thorns?” He seemed to be thinking. “That sounds like a Twoleg gathering place.”
Tigerheart blinked at him confused.
“I could see a gathering place from my old home,” Ajax told him. “Every quarter moon, Twolegs would go there and yowl together.”
“Why?” Fuzzball asked.
“It’s something Twolegs do.” Ajax sniffed.
Tigerheart’s heart sparked with hope. Dovewing had been right. There was a gorse-spiked den. He was heading the right way. “How do I get to that Twolegplace?” he asked Ajax.
Ajax looked over his shoulder at his Twoleg nest, then swished his tail. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”
As he headed across the patch of grass behind the nest, Fuzzball glanced nervously at Tigerheart. “Are you sure you want to go there?”