In the middle of a stretch of grass Hawkwing saw a tiny
Twoleg den, striped in bright colors. Three huge black dogs stood outside it, barking so loudly they could be heard in StarClan.
“What is that?” Hawkwing murmured, half to himself. “It’s too small for Twolegs.”
“I think it’s for the Twoleg kits. It’s too small for the dogs to get in,” Plumwillow murmured at his shoulder. “The kits must be in there—I can scent them!”
“Then they’re safe for now,” Hawkwing responded. “But how are we going to get them out?”
“We’ll have to distract the dogs somehow,” Plumwillow mewed.
Hawkwing gazed across the garden, imagining himself dashing out to draw the dogs off while Plumwillow rescued the kits. Yes, that could work! he thought, flexing his claws excitedly. But before he could make a move the door of the Twoleg den slammed open and a female Twoleg appeared, yowling and waving her forelegs at the dogs.
The dogs ignored her, until she came close enough to grab one of them by the collar around its neck and yank it back, still yowling and waving her paw in the dogs’ faces. Eventually the dogs calmed down and backed off, whimpering.
The Twoleg peered inside the tiny den and her jaws dropped open in surprise. She started to make soft, cooing noises.
Plumwillow and Hawkwing exchanged a glance of alarm as the Twoleg reached into the den and lifted Dewkit into her arms, then picked up Finkit and cuddled him. Reedkit followed her littermates into the open, staring in terror at the Twoleg.
“We have to do something!” Plumwillow cried. “What if she takes them inside her den? What if she makes them into kittypets?”
“We won’t let her,” Hawkwing promised. “Listen—you bite the Twoleg on her leg, and when she crouches down I’ll leap at her and claw her face. If that doesn’t make her drop the kits, nothing will!”
“Okay,” Plumwillow mewed tensely.
Racing across the grass, she leaped up at the Twoleg and sank her teeth into her leg. The Twoleg let out a yelp of pain and stooped to bat Plumwillow away. Hawkwing dashed up and aimed his claws at her face; the Twoleg started back in alarm, dropping Finkit and Dewkit and letting out a frightened yowl.
“This way!” Hawkwing exclaimed, pushing all three kits in front of him toward the bushes. “As fast as you can!”
At the same moment a huge male Twoleg came running out of the den, yowling even louder than his mate and glaring in the cats’ direction. The dogs started barking again, bounding after Hawkwing and Plumwillow as they helped the kits wriggle through the bushes and out into the woods.
Hawkwing turned to face the dogs, his claws extended as he snarled defiance, but before the dogs reached him the male Twoleg ran up to them, still yowling, and herded them back to the den.
Hawkwing let out a gusty sigh of relief before thrusting his way through the tough branches to join Plumwillow and the kits.
Urging the kits on, Hawkwing and Plumwillow hurried deep into the trees before they dared stop to check on them.
“Are you okay?” Plumwillow asked anxiously, sniffing them all over.
“We’re fine!” Reedkit panted.
“Twolegs aren’t that scary,” Finkit added.
Dewkit fluffed up his pelt. “It felt kind of nice when the female picked me up,” he declared.
Hawkwing gave Plumwillow a serious look. “This is the second time the kits have been in danger from dogs,” he meowed. “We can’t risk it happening again.”
“I know,” Plumwillow agreed. “And I don’t like the way they’re not scared of Twolegs. You should be scared,” she added severely to her kits.
“Then we have to do something,” Hawkwing meowed.
Plumwillow gave him a long, serious look. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Hawkwing nodded. I’ve tried my best to stay, but I can’t deny any longer that the danger is getting worse. The dogs keep attacking, and the kits are growing up with no fear of Twolegs. This isn’t our home. We need to find another camp.
“We have to convince Leafstar to leave the lake,” he responded.
“She won’t like it, but I can’t see any other way.”
When they were still a long way from the camp, Hawkwing spotted movement in the undergrowth. He tensed, then relaxed as a
SkyClan patrol emerged into the open. Leafstar was in the lead, with Waspwhisker, Sparrowpelt, Tinycloud, and Rabbitleap.
“You found the kits!” Leafstar exclaimed, relief shining in her eyes as she halted in front of Hawkwing. “We were on our way to help you. Are they hurt?”
“No, we’re all okay,” Dewkit replied, fluffing out his fur.
“We ran faster than those stupid dogs,” Reedkit boasted. “And we hid in a tiny little Twoleg den.”
Finkit puffed out his chest proudly. “Those mange-pelts couldn’t get us in there.”
Hawkwing suppressed a mrrow of amusement. Now that they’re over their fear, they’ll be telling the story for moons!
“You were all very brave,” Leafstar praised them. “And now let’s get back to camp.”
When the patrol returned with the kits, the rest of their Clanmates pressed around them, welcoming them back with yowls of joy.
“Give the kits space to breathe!” Plumwillow protested.
“They’re exhausted—they need to eat something and go to sleep.”
Soon the whole Clan settled down around the fresh-kill pile to eat and discuss the dog attack. The kits started to tell their story again—Hawkwing noticed that the dogs seemed to get bigger with every heartbeat—but before they got to the end their weariness overcame them, and they curled up next to Plumwillow in a purring, sleepy heap of fur.
As Hawkwing was finishing off a juicy vole, Curlypaw padded over to him and gave him a nudge. “Is it okay to talk now?”
Amid all the stress of the dog attack, Hawkwing had completely forgotten that Curlypaw had asked to talk to him. Now the last thing he wanted was to advise her about toms. He would much rather have burrowed into his nest in the warriors’ den and gone to sleep. But he knew that he couldn’t brush his apprentice off like that.
“Won’t the morning do instead?” he asked.
Curlypaw shifted her paws uncomfortably. “It’s kind of important.”
Hawkwing suppressed a mrrow of amusement. I guess toms are really important to a young she-cat! “Okay,” he replied. “Let’s go over here where it’s a bit quieter.”
Hawkwing led the way to where a thornbush jutted out from the rocky bank which formed the edge of the camp. “Well, spit it out,” he meowed.
Curlypaw gave him a nervous glance and then studied her paws. “I’ve given it a lot of thought,” she murmured at last, “and
I’ve decided to join Parsleyseed as a kittypet.”
Hawkwing felt as if his heart had plummeted down into his paws. His jaws gaped open as he stared at his apprentice. I thought this was going to be about Rileypool! “What?” he spluttered. “I didn’t see that coming!”
“That’s because you didn’t want to see,” Curlypaw responded.
“Whenever I’ve gotten the chance, I’ve been going down to the lakeshore, and I didn’t much care if any cat saw me going. M ost of the Twolegs are very nice. They stroke me and give me food.”
“And you’d give up being a Clan cat for that?” Hawkwing asked incredulously. “You’ve been doing so well. You’ll be a great warrior—a huge asset to your Clan!”