Эрин Хантер: Hawkwing’s Journey

Skystar listened impassively to Cloudstar’s heated outburst and Brackenheart’s desperate protest. His voice was quiet and steady as he replied. “No. Every cat knows what our Clan has suffered, but there is a time for our claws to grip hard to what we own, and a time to let go. The threat SkyClan faces is just the beginning. Only by joining with the other Clans can they clear the sky.”

Brackenheart drew in a wondering breath. “All five Clans, together again…” Then he gave his pelt a shake. “But how can this be? Where will SkyClan live, if they rejoin the other Clans?

There is only so much territory. How do we know that the other Clans will accept them peacefully? How do we know that the cats of SkyClan will want to join the others? They have only ever known Firestar, and he is in his own StarClan now.”

“And Sandstorm,” Cloudstar reminded him.

Skystar nodded. “Yes. And she is a brave cat, but her path is dark to me. It is to Firestar’s kin that SkyClan must look now. For when fire dies down, there are still sparks that remain. And you are right that SkyClan’s path will be long and difficult. That is why they must start now.” He paused, staring into the distance.

“They must find those sparks, or their future is terrible indeed.

…”

Hawkpaw let out a drowsy purr, enjoying the sensation of warm sunlight on his pelt. He lay curled up at the base of a rock, his dark gray tail wrapped over his paws. His whiskers twitched as he sank deeper into sleep, imagining himself stalking prey among the bushes at the top of the gorge.

“Mrrow!”

Hawkpaw startled awake as a bundle of ginger fur landed on top of him and paws prodded him sharply in the ribs. He breathed in the familiar scent of his littermate Duskpaw.

“Get off me!” Hawkpaw yowled, pushing Duskpaw away as he sat up and shook out his ruffled fur. “What’s gotten into you? I was enjoying my nap!”

“Well, it’s time to wake up, lazybones!” Duskpaw meowed.

“Cloudpaw and Pebblepaw and I have come up with the best plan ever!”

Still half asleep, Hawkpaw narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

What is it this time? Duskpaw is always bugging me with some amazing plan, and usually it’s, “Hey, we’re going to steal some Twoleg food!” Since he was a kit, Duskpaw had loved the taste of Twoleg prey, and was often willing to do some very silly things to get it. Honestly, Hawkpaw thought, twitching his whiskers. I think he must have bees in his brain.

“Okay, then,” Hawkpaw murmured, then stretched his jaws in a massive yawn. “What’s this great plan?”

“Pebblepaw saw some Twolegs carrying woven twigs to the Twoleg greenplace,” Duskpaw explained, bouncing up and down on his paws. His eyes rounded with excitement. “And you know what that means, right?”

Hawkpaw gave a weary sigh. I saw this coming. “Twoleg food.”

At the same moment, Duskpaw let out an excited squeal.

“ Twoleg food! It’s been a while since Pebblepaw saw them,” he continued. “They must be long gone. But their leftovers will still be there!”

“I think you’re going to turn into a Twoleg if you’re not careful,” Hawkpaw teased, grinning. “Your fur will get thin, except on top of your head it’ll be all puffed up and messy, and you’ll start walking on your hind legs and riding about in monsters…”

“Don’t be a stupid furball!” Duskpaw protested. “Like that would ever happen!”

“You’re so crazy about their food, and it’s not even that exciting!” Hawkpaw responded. “Besides, how do you plan on getting away without Waspwhisker finding out? Not to mention Billystorm and Plumwillow. They won’t like their apprentices sneaking off without permission. Ebonyclaw would rip my pelt off if I was idiotic enough to join you.”

“They won’t find out,” Duskpaw mewed with a dismissive wave of his tail. “All the warriors have stuffed themselves with fresh-kill, and now they’re snoozing at the bottom of the Rockpile—just like you were, a moment ago. We’re going straight there and we’ll be right back, before our mentors even wake up to miss us.”

Hawkpaw noticed that his sister Cloudpaw and the speckled white she-cat Pebblepaw were standing a few tail-lengths away, just out of earshot. Pebblepaw was scraping impatiently at the ground, clearly tired of waiting for Duskpaw.

“Get a move on!” she spat. “Let Hawkpaw stay here if he’s too much of a scaredy-mouse.”

Hawkpaw growled deep in his throat at the insult. “Like I’d go if she’s going.”

“Look, I know you don’t like her,” Duskpaw meowed, lowering his voice and casting a quick glance between Hawkpaw and Pebblepaw, “but you should get to know her better. You know, the two of you are a lot alike. You’re both as difficult as a fox in a fit. So are you coming or not?”

Hawkpaw let out an irritated hiss at the thought that he was anything like Pebblepaw . She had to be the most annoying cat in the whole Clan. She struts around like she’s so great, when she’s just an apprentice like the rest of us. “No thanks,” he snapped.

“Just leave me alone, okay?”

“Keep your fur on!” Duskpaw protested. “Your temper will get you into trouble one day.”

That made Hawkpaw even more angry—being scolded by the brother who spent so much time messing around. “No, you’re the one who’ll get into trouble, for sneaking out to steal Twoleg food.”

Duskpaw shrugged, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s worth it! Twoleg food is delicious. But you can suit yourself.

We’re going.”

“Fine!” he huffed. “Have fun.” And good luck explaining when you get back.

Hawkpaw let his annoyance ebb as he watched his brother scuttle off with Pebblepaw and Cloudpaw. He yawned, reflecting thankfully that at least his other sister, Blossompaw, had the good sense not to get involved. Curling up again, he wrapped his tail over his nose and closed his eyes. Maybe now I can finish my nap in peace.

Some time later, a stiff breeze rustled the branches of the trees at the top of the gorge as Hawkpaw followed the paw steps of his mentor, Ebonyclaw, through the undergrowth along the SkyClan border. The sun was dipping down below the topmost branches; Hawkpaw fluffed out his pelt against the sudden chill.

Ebonyclaw’s lithe black figure halted and she glanced at Hawkpaw over her shoulder. “Wait here while I renew the scent marker,” she instructed him.

Hawkpaw did as he was told, his ears pricked for the sound of prey. He wondered what had happened to Duskpaw and the others; they hadn’t returned from their expedition by the time he and Ebonyclaw had left camp.

Probably they were so excited by the food that they lost track of time. Mouse-brains.

A secret thrill crept through Hawkpaw at the thought of Duskpaw getting into trouble. He’s always fooling around and bending the rules! I love him, but he needs to get serious if he wants to be a warrior.

It didn’t seem all that fair to Hawkpaw that he always worked as hard as he possibly could, but Duskpaw kept getting away with his stupid behavior. Maybe if he has to deal with the elders’ ticks for a few days, he’ll decide to make more of an effort.

When Ebonyclaw returned from setting the scent marker she was sniffing the air, a suspicious expression on her face. “Can you smell that?” she asked.

Hawkpaw opened his jaws to taste the air, and an unfamiliar scent flowed into his mouth. “Great StarClan! What is that?” he exclaimed.