Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 As they headed out of the camp, the two young warriors nearly crashed into Whitestorm, who was leading Sandpaw and Runningwind into the forest for the dawn patrol. "Sorry!" panted Fireheart. He stopped, and Graystripe skidded to a halt beside him. Whitestorm dipped his head. "I hear you two are going on a mission," he meowed. "Yes," Fireheart replied. "Then may you have StarClan's protection," meowed Whitestorm gravely. "What for?" Sandpaw sneered. "You off to catch voles?" Runningwind, a lean tabby, turned and whispered something into Sandpaw's ear. Her expression changed and the contempt in her green eyes switched to guarded curiosity. The patrol stepped aside to let Fireheart and Graystripe pass. The pair raced on and scrambled up the side of the ravine. Fireheart and Graystripe shared few words as they followed the route through the forest to Fourtrees, saving their breath for the long journey

ahead. They paused at the top of the steep slope on the far side of the oak-shaded clearing, their sides heaving from the climb. "Is it always windy up here?" grumbled Graystripe, fluffing out his thick fur against the blast of cold air that swept across the uplands. "I suppose there aren't any trees to block it," Fireheart pointed out, screwing up his eyes. This was WindClan's territory. As Fireheart sniffed the air, he detected a scent that all of his senses told him should not be there. "Do you smell RiverClan warriors?" he murmured uneasily. Graystripe lifted his nose. "No. Do you think there might be some here?" "Maybe. They might want to make the most of WindClan's absence, especially since they know WindClan will be back soon," Fireheart warned. "Well, I can't smell anything now," whispered Graystripe. The two friends padded watchfully along a frozen turf trail sheltered by heather. A fresh scent stopped Fireheart in his tracks. "Can you smell that?" he hissed to Graystripe. "Yes," whispered Graystripe, flattening himself

against the ground. "RiverClan!" Fireheart dropped into a crouch, keeping his ears below the heather. Beside him, Graystripe lifted his dark gray head to peer over the bushes. "I can see them," he murmured. "They're hunting." Fireheart stretched up cautiously to look. Four RiverClan warriors were chasing a rabbit through a patch of gorse. Fireheart recognized Blackclaw from the Gathering. The smoky-black warrior pounced, his claws unsheathed, but sat up again with nothing to show for the chase. The rabbit must have made it to the safety of her warren. Fireheart and Graystripe dropped down again and pressed their bellies against the cold turf. "They're not good rabbit hunters," Graystripe hissed scornfully. "I guess RiverClan is more used to catching fish," Fireheart whispered back. His nose twitched as he smelled the scent of a terrified rabbit coming nearer. With a pang of dread, Fireheart heard the pawsteps of the RiverClan warriors fast approaching after it. "They're coming this way!

We'll have to hide!" "Follow me," whispered Graystripe. "I smell badgers this way." "Badgers?" Fireheart echoed. "Is that safe?" He'd heard the story of how Halftail had lost his tail in a fight with a bad-tempered old brock. "Don't worry. The scent is strong but stale," Graystripe reassured him. "There must be an old set near here." Fireheart sniffed. His scent glands picked up a strong, almost foxlike scent. "Are you sure it's abandoned?" "We'll know soon enough. Come on; we've got to get out of here," replied Graystripe. He led the way quickly through the low bushes. The rustle of heather told Fireheart the RiverClan warriors were closing in. "Here!" Graystripe shouldered aside a tuft of heather to reveal a sandy hole in the ground. "Get inside! The badger's scent will disguise ours. We can wait till they're gone." Fireheart slipped speedily into the dark hole, and Graystripe followed him. The stench of badger was overwhelming.

Pawsteps thudded on the ground overhead. Both cats held their breath as the steps halted and one of the RiverClan warriors yowled, "Badger set!" From the rasping mew, Fireheart knew it was Blackclaw. A second voice answered: "Is it abandoned? The rabbit may be hiding inside." Fireheart felt Graystripe's fur bristling beside him in the dark. He unsheathed his claws and stared at the entrance to the hole, ready to fight if the warriors came inside. "Wait; the scent leads this way," meowed Blackclaw. There was a scrabble of paws overhead as the RiverClan warriors charged away. Graystripe slowly let out his breath. "D'you think they're gone?" "Perhaps we should wait a bit longer, make sure none of them stayed behind," Fireheart suggested. No more noises came from outside. Graystripe nudged Fireheart. "Come on," he meowed. Fireheart followed Graystripe cautiously out into the daylight. There was no sign of the RiverClan patrol. The fresh breeze cleared

Fireheart's scent glands of the badger stench. "We should look for the WindClan camp," he meowed to Graystripe. "It'll be the best place to pick up their scent." "Okay," answered Graystripe. They moved slowly through the heather, keeping their mouths slightly open to pick up the scent of any more RiverClan warriors. They stopped at the foot of a large flat rock that sloped up steeply, past the tops of the gorse bushes. "I'll climb up and have a look around," offered Graystripe. "My pelt will blend better with the stone." "Okay," Fireheart agreed. "But keep your head down." He watched his friend creep up the rock. Graystripe crouched at the top and gazed around the plateau, then skidded back down to Fireheart. "There's a hollow over there, I think," Graystripe puffed, signaling with his tail. "I can see a gap in the heather." "Let's check it out," meowed Fireheart. "It could be the camp." "That's what I thought." Graystripe nodded.