Эрин Хантер - Battles of the Clans

THE SKY-CRUSHER:Landing with all four feet on top of an opponent, flattening him like a leaf.

THE FLICK-OVER:Landing with front paws outstretched to sweep the opponent off his feet and roll him onto his back.

THE KICK:Kicking down hard as the warrior nears the ground, then using momentum from landing to spring away before the opponent can retaliate.

THE SLICE:Dropping down with claws unsheathed for maximum injury.

THE BRANCH SWING:Holding on to branch with front claws and swinging hind legs into the opponent’s face.

THE REVERSE BRANCH SWING:Holding on to branch with hind claws and striking with front legs through the swing.

THE TRUNK SPRING:Sliding down trunk and springing off at head height, using hind legs to push off and clear opponents (good if tree is surrounded).

THE REVERSE CLIMB:Climbing backward up the trunk as the opponent advances to gain advantage of height; often followed by Trunk Spring.

Abattle against those mangy kittypets?” Nightfur’s eyes gleamed, and he unsheathed his claws as if he were already imagining sinking them into glossy fur. The spine of a feather cracked under his front paw, and I looked down at the tattered remains of the plump thrush. It was inedible now, after the trespassers from Twolegplace had toyed with it and dragged it through the mud, not giving it the swift and respectful death that a warrior gives to its prey.

“They won’t stand a chance against us!” Nightfur’s apprentice, Fernpaw, agreed. “Once we drop out of the trees, we’ll find out just how fast they can run—back to their precious Twolegs!”

I shook my head. “We can’t fight them in our territory.”

Buzzardpaw, an apprentice with a reputation for taking on warriors twice his size in battle practice without flinching, curled his lip. “How can you say that? Those kittypets ignore our border marks, chase off our patrols, and steal our prey. Are you suggesting we’re too scared to defend ourselves?” he growled.

“Of course he isn’t!” Birdflight, a she-cat who had been made warrior at the same time as me, jumped to my defense. “Cloudstorm is as brave as any of you—probably braver!”

I was grateful for her vote of confidence, but I didn’t want our Clanmates thinking that I needed her to stand up for me. I blinked at her to say thanks, then got to my paws to address the gathered cats.

“We know that the Twolegs are already uncomfortably close to our borders. We can tolerate them—but not their kittypets. These aren’t fat, lazy, overfed creatures, but young, strong, bold cats who catch the birds we need for food, jumping high enough and fast enough to snag them in their claws and drag them out of the sky. They must have watched us train our apprentices in order to copy our hunting skills.”

I noticed Petalfall, the deputy, widen her green eyes in surprise. As one of the youngest warriors, it wasn’t my place to take charge of the Clan meeting. But she gave a tiny nod, so I carried on. I hoped she’d think my plan was good enough to report to Flystar when he returned from the Moonstone.

“We can’t fight the kittypets in SkyClan because they don’t all come here at once,” I explained.

“If we scare a couple of them enough, they’ll soon tell their thieving friends to keep away!” Nightfur interrupted.

“How do we know they talk to one another?” I argued. “They come from different Twoleg nests; they might not even know that other kittypets come into the woods, too. We need to take the battle to them. We must launch an attack on Twolegplace!”

There was silence. Then Fernpaw mewed, “What, all of it?”

“Of course not. Look.” Using one of my foreclaws, I drew a line on the dusty ground. “This is the border between Twolegplace and our territory—it’s a fence, right? About the height of a low tree, so we could still use a Sky-drop from it?” As my Clanmates shuffled closer, I drew some straight-edged shapes to represent Twoleg nests, with narrow paths between them. “We’ll attack the kittypets closest to the fence first—on a sunny day they tend to lie in their own territories. After all, they don’t need to hunt our prey for their food.”

There were growls of agreement. Petalfall rested the tip of one claw on my dust marks. “What about the other kittypets? They don’t all live underneath the fence.”

“For those, we’ll send patrols farther into Twolegplace,” I meowed, tracing a line around the shapes on the ground. “Most of the little territories are enclosed with fences, and some have small trees that we can use to our advantage.” I looked up and felt my heart pounding with excitement.

“We’ll show them we can fight as well in their territory as ours!”

“We’ll invade Twolegplace!” Nightfur yowled. “This will be the greatest battle in SkyClan’s history!”

We were ready at dawn the following day. Flystar hadn’t returned from the Moonstone, but Petalfall agreed that we couldn’t wait any longer. With every day that passed, we lost prey to our kittypet enemies. The air was warm before sunrise, promising the kind of hot, sleepy day that would keep the kittypets sprawled in their fussy, cramped territories. We set off through the trees in tense silence, four patrols, each with a different part of Twolegplace to attack. We’d start by lining up along the outer fence to deal with the kittypets who lived closest to the forest so that they couldn’t send word to the others that they were under attack. Then we’d move into Twolegplace in four directions, using all the aboveground moves and warrior skills that defended our territory from other rivals.

Petalfall drew alongside me. Her rose-cream fur sparkled with dew, and the tips of her ears were dark with water as she brushed through the cool ferns. Her green eyes were worried, so I slowed my pace and steered deeper into the undergrowth, where we could talk without being overheard by the others.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Petalfall blinked, as if she hadn’t realized her thoughts were so obvious. “I think Flystar should know what we’re doing,” she meowed.

“He will, when we greet him with news of our victory,” I answered.

“But what if StarClan has told him to do something else to deal with the kittypets? What if StarClan doesn’t want us to attack them like this, in their own territory?”

I stopped and faced her. “Our warrior ancestors gave us the warrior code and the battle skills to protect and feed ourselves. They don’t live among us, risking their fur to catch prey and drive out trespassers. These are things we must do for ourselves. We should be grateful for what they have taught us, but our actions are our own.”

Petalfall took a step back. “But StarClan guides us in all things!”

“StarClan watches us,” I corrected her. “That’s different. It was my idea to take the fight into Twolegplace, not theirs. I hope we have their support, but our paws will carry us into battle, our claws will prove our strength to those thieving kittypets. This is our fight to win, not StarClan’s.”

Petalfall turned away, and for a moment I thought she was going to leave me there in the dew-heavy ferns and go back to the camp. I opened my mouth to ask her to stay—we’d need her skills and her courage—just as she paused and looked back at me. “I will fight alongside you,” she meowed quietly. “And with StarClan’s blessing, we will win. But if I were you, I’d be careful about dismissing our ancestors so lightly. We owe them everything, and it is a debt that will never be repaid.”