Oh, StarClan, no! They’ve spotted me … and I’m trapped!
The male Twoleg walked around to the back of the monster. Pebbleshine guessed he was going to open it up. She felt every hair on her pelt bristling with fear, but she bunched her muscles, ready to leap out. She had no idea what the Twolegs would do to her if they caught her, but she was sure it couldn’t be good.
The back section of the monster swung up; the male Twoleg reached for Pebbleshine, but she was too fast for him. She leaped past him, feeling his outstretched paw brush her pelt, and fled.
Pebbleshine’s legs were cramped from spending so long tightly curled up, but she forced herself into a run, heading away from the Thunderpath and into the scatter of unfamiliar Twoleg dens that bordered it. She was certain that the Twoleg was chasing her, but when she finally had to halt, panting for breath, there was no sign of him.
Trembling with relief, Pebbleshine tried to work out where she was. Then, somehow, she would find her way to where she wanted to be. She stood on a stretch of grass outside a Twoleg nest, with other Twoleg nests all around her, as far as she could see. None of the sights or scents were familiar to her.
What is this place?
Pebbleshine realized that she wasn’t even sure how to get back to the Thunderpath, much less discover the direction she needed to take to rejoin her Clan. The rain had stopped, but clouds still covered the sky, so she couldn’t work out a route from the position of the sun. For a moment despair threatened to overwhelm her. She didn’t recognize anything here.
What if I’ve only made things worse? What if that monster carried me even farther away? She felt herself sinking. It seemed clear now that she’d never be able to get back to SkyClan by riding a monster, because there was no way to predict where they would go. But then how will I ever get back all that way?
Pebbleshine summoned her courage, determined not to give in to these dark fears. It’s all right. I can make it. I’m a warrior! Her chest still heaving after her frantic dash for safety, she sat down on the grass to think.
It had already been a couple of days since she had been carried away from Hawkwing and her Clanmates. Pebbleshine knew that they would be waiting for her to come back, but she knew too that they couldn’t wait forever. They had to go on searching for the place beside the water where the other Clans lived. It was SkyClan’s only hope of survival.
My kits have to be born in a Clan, Pebbleshine thought with a growl of frustration.
At that moment, an angry hiss broke out from the nearest Twoleg nest. Pebbleshine whipped her head around to see a fluffy gray she-cat burst out of a small opening near the ground and head toward her, stiff-legged and snarling.
“This is my place,” she hissed. She was a big cat, and her bristling fur made her look bigger still. “You don’t belong here. Keep moving—or else.”
Pebbleshine rose to her paws. Normally, she fought alongside her Clanmates, but she knew she could handle a kittypet alone, no matter how fierce. Still, as tired and worried as she was, a fight was the last thing she needed.
“I’m just passing through,” she mewed, turning and beginning to pad away.
“Yeah, keep moving, coward!” the gray kittypet spat.
Pebbleshine spun around, her decision not to fight flying out of her head. I’m a warrior of SkyClan! No kittypet is going to talk to me like that!
Letting out a growl from deep in her throat, Pebbleshine stalked toward the kittypet. She slid out her claws and let her neck fur bush up defiantly. I’ll show her what a warrior is—and how a warrior fights!
The kittypet’s eyes suddenly widened in alarm, and she took a pace back, as if she hadn’t expected Pebbleshine to stand up for herself. Pebbleshine was almost close enough to take a swipe at her when another voice broke in.
“Leave her alone, Coco! Can’t you see she’s expecting kits?”
Pebbleshine glanced over her shoulder to see two young kittypets—a thin black-and-white she-cat and an orange tom—come racing across the grass and thrust themselves between Pebbleshine and Coco, scolding the gray she-cat as they approached.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Can’t you be friendly for a change?”
Coco let out a furious hiss. “Like I’d want to be friends with you flea-pelts!” she exclaimed. She backed away a few paces, then turned and flounced off toward her Twoleg den, disappearing again inside the small door.
The black-and-white she-cat ducked her head to Pebbleshine. “Sorry about that,” she meowed.
“Yeah,” the orange tom added. “We hope Coco didn’t scare you. I’m Milo, by the way, and she’s Olive.”
Pebbleshine stifled amusement at the thought that the two kittypets were trying to protect her, a fully trained Clan warrior. But she thought they were quite cute—hardly more than kits—and she didn’t want to hurt their feelings.
“I’m Pebbleshine,” she responded, dipping her head politely. “Thanks for your help, but I’m fine, really. What is that cat’s problem?”
“Oh, Coco!” Olive twitched her ears dismissively. “She always has her tail in a twist. Are you sure you’re okay?” she added, brushing her tail along Pebbleshine’s side. “Are you hungry? You could come and eat with us.”
“Our housefolk have plenty,” Milo agreed. “Water, too. And it’s not far.”
Pebbleshine shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I really don’t want to go into a Twoleg nest.”
Olive and Milo exchanged a bewildered glance, as if they couldn’t imagine why Pebbleshine would object to entering their den. “Twoleg?” Olive sounded puzzled. “Do you mean housefolk? Don’t you have a den of your own?”
I had one once … a beautiful den, in the gorge. Pebbleshine thrust the pang of homesickness aside and forced herself not to think about the past. In any case, that wasn’t what Olive had meant. “No,” she replied. “I’m a Clan cat. We don’t live with Twolegs.”
The two kittypets looked at each other again, still clearly confused. Pebbleshine felt the same dread return: How far must I be, if no cat seems to know what a Clan is?
Eventually Milo shrugged. “Okay,” he mewed, “would you at least like us to show you where you can get water out here?”
At his question, Pebbleshine suddenly realized how thirsty she was, as if her mouth were full of sand. If I must be surrounded by kittypets who don’t even know about the Clans, she thought, at least they can be helpful! “Oh, yes, please!”
“Follow us,” Olive told her.
The two kittypets set off across the grass, strolled down the Thunderpath a little way, and then wriggled under a Twoleg fence. Squeezing through after them, Pebbleshine found herself on the edge of a wilder area, where the grass was longer and rougher, and narrow paths wound among clumps of bushes. The clouds were breaking up; weak sunlight glittered on the wet foliage. In the distance Pebbleshine could hear the shouts of playing Twoleg kits.
“This way.” Milo took the lead down a slope to where a small stream trickled between stones. With a gasp of relief Pebbleshine crouched down beside it and gratefully lapped at the cool water.
“Thanks,” she meowed at last, sitting up and shaking drops of water from her whiskers. “That was exactly what I needed.”
“Is there anything else we can do to help you?” Olive asked, her blue eyes wide with anxiety.