Chapter 25
Hawkwing limped along at the rear of his Clan. His leg ached terribly, but he forced himself to keep going. Almost a moon had passed since he had injured himself falling from the tree, and his leg was mostly better, but they had been walking since dawn, and now it was past sunhigh.
Leafstar would call for a rest break if I asked her to, Hawkwing thought. But I can keep going for now. If Plumwillow can do it…
He was ready to suffer through his pain if it would get them to their new home faster. I hope we find it before Plumwillow kits, or failing that, before Pebbleshine does.
Plumwillow’s belly was huge now; she was close to the time of her kitting, but she kept up with her Clanmates and never complained. Pebbleshine often walked beside her, encouraging her, and Curlypaw did her best to make sure that both she-cats had prey. Hawkwing was prouder of his apprentice with every day that passed: her energy, her commitment to her Clan, and the way she made sure every cat was fed before she took fresh-kill for herself.
But fresh-kill was hard to come by on their journey. Every cat was tired, sore-pawed, and thinner than they had been when they lived in the gorge. Life had become an endless round of sleeping, traveling, and hunting.
Though Leafstar still took the lead, encouraging her Clan onward, she looked wearier with very day that passed, and Hawkwing sometimes detected doubt in her eyes. Surely our leader can’t be losing her faith that StarClan will guide us?
On the worst days, Hawkwing struggled to keep his own hope alive that soon they would find ThunderClan, and sensed that his Clanmates were struggling too. StarClan hadn’t sent Echosong any more visions, so there was nothing to do but trek onward and trust that they were heading in the right direction. But when each nightfall found SkyClan still wandering in the wilderness, it became harder to hold on to that trust.
Sometimes, at night, Hawkwing had heard Leafstar and Waspwhisker talking together in low, anxious tones. A hollowness opened up inside Hawkwing as he listened. If the Clan leader and the deputy don’t know what to do, what hope is there for the rest of us? And why is StarClan putting us through all this?
Still, Hawkwing reflected, SkyClan had become even closer, more tightly bound together as they traveled, each cat depending on the others. Now he could see M acgyver letting a tired Clovertail lean against his shoulder as they walked, and everywhere cats were meowing quietly and peacefully to each other.
Maybe that’s why StarClan is letting our journey take so long, Hawkwing thought. So that we learn how much we need each other.
Pebbleshine dropped back to pad alongside Hawkwing, brushing her tail along his pelt. Hawkwing blinked at her affectionately.
“I’m so glad our kits will be born in this Clan,” he mewed.
“So am I,” Pebbleshine purred. “There can’t be a better Clan anywhere.”
Coming to the top of a rise, the cats looked out across a wide valley, with the dens of a small Twolegplace near the bottom.
“We’ll take a break here,” Leafstar announced. “We need to be fed and rested before we tackle that Twolegplace down there.”
She led the way a few fox-lengths down the slope to where a stretch of gorse and bramble gave shelter from the wind and some hope of prey. Plumwillow and Clovertail flopped down there with sighs of relief.
“We’ll hunt for you,” Bellaleaf meowed, bounding up to the two she-cats with her brother Rileypool at her shoulder.
“And I’ll catch something for you!” Curlypaw promised Pebbleshine.
The speckled she-cat flicked Curlypaw’s ear with the tip of her tail. “Thank you,” she responded. “But I’m not so big yet that I can’t hunt for myself. Come on, Hawkwing, let’s all go together.”
“And me!” Blossomheart added.
Waspwhisker joined them as well, and Hawkwing’s spirits lifted as he and his friends crept into the undergrowth, jaws parted to taste the air for prey. This is almost like a hunting patrol in the forest above the gorge!
Venturing deeper into the bushes, Hawkwing and the others spread out in their search. Hawkwing picked up the strong scent of a rabbit and followed it along a narrow path between brambles.
Finally he spotted the creature lolloping ahead of him, its white tail bobbing up and down. Hawkwing kept pace with it, two or three fox-lengths behind, until it halted, sniffing at something on the ground.
Glancing back, Hawkwing saw that Blossomheart and Curlypaw were both within sight. He beckoned to them, signing to them for silence. “Circle around,” he whispered, gesturing with his tail. “Come at it from the other side, and I’ll drive it toward you.”
Curlypaw nodded, her eyes gleaming with excitement, and slid through the undergrowth in one direction, while Blossomheart veered off in the other. While Hawkwing waited for them to get into position, he was painfully reminded of his last hunt with his father, when he and Sharpclaw had cooperated just like this. With an effort he pushed the memory away, forcing himself to concentrate on this rabbit, and his Clanmates’ need for fresh-kill.
Finally Hawkwing spotted movement in the undergrowth on the other side of the rabbit, which told him Curlypaw and Blossomheart were ready. Letting out a fearsome yowl, Hawkwing pelted forward, heading for his prey.
The rabbit sat erect, terror in its bulging eyes. Then it took off, but instead of making for Blossomheart and Curlypaw, it doubled back until Hawkwing thought it was going to run right onto his own claws.
As Hawkwing reached for it, the rabbit veered aside, and Hawkwing spotted the entrance to a burrow among the roots of a nearby gorse bush.
“No!” he screeched.
He made a frantic pounce, landing awkwardly and jarring his injured leg so the pain jolted right up into his ribs. But he was too late. With a last flash of its white tail, the rabbit plunged into the hole and vanished.
“Fox dung!” Hawkwing snarled, lashing his tail in frustration.
This is what happens when we hunt in strange territory, he thought, clawing furiously at the ground. The prey knows the terrain, but we don’t.
Blossomheart and Curlypaw reappeared, both of them looking disappointed.
“Never mind.” Blossomheart was clearly trying to sound cheerful. “We’ll find something else.”
But no more prey showed itself as they made their way through the undergrowth, until they emerged onto the hillside again, where they came upon Waspwhisker and Pebbleshine.
“I caught this shrew,” Pebbleshine mewed, giving her prey a disdainful prod. “But it’s a scrawny little thing. It’s hardly a mouthful.”
“Better than nothing,” Hawkwing responded, brushing his pelt against hers. “Bury it, and we’ll pick it up on the way back.”
While Pebbleshine scraped earth over the shrew, Hawkwing glanced around, realizing that they had come out of the thicket much closer to the Twolegplace. Farther down the hill a line of bushes separated them from the first of the dens.
“We might try down there,” Waspwhisker suggested.
Hawkwing wasn’t too keen on going so close to the Twolegplace, but he realized that there was a lot of sense in the Clan deputy’s suggestion. I probably scared off all the prey up here, screeching at that rabbit!
Waspwhisker led the way down the slope to the bushes, but when they reached them there were too many competing scents: the acrid tang of monsters and a Thunderpath, traces of dogs and Twolegs, and more that Hawkwing couldn’t even identify.