Erin Hunter - Into The Wild

“We’re approaching RiverClan territory,” whispered Graypaw. “The Sunningrocks are over there.” He pointed with his soft muzzle to a treeless mound of boulders.

Firepaw felt his fur stand on end. This was where Redtail had been slain.

Lionheart stopped by a flat gray rock. “This is the boundary between ThunderClan and RiverClan territory. RiverClan rules the hunting grounds beside the great river,” he meowed. “Breathe deeply, Firepaw.”

The pungent smell of unfamiliar cats hit the roof of Firepaw’s mouth. He was surprised how different it smelled from the warm cat scents of the ThunderClan camp. And he was also surprised to realize just how familiar and comforting the ThunderClan scents seemed to him already.

“That is the smell of RiverClan,” Tigerclaw growled beside him. “Remember it well. It will be strongest at the boundary, because their warriors will have scent-marked the trees along here.” With these words, the dark tabby lifted his tail and sprayed his own mark on the flat rock.

“We’ll follow this boundary line, as it leads straight to Fourtrees,” Lionheart meowed.

He set off quickly, away from the Sunningrocks, followed by Tigerclaw. Graypaw and Firepaw trotted after them.

“What is Fourtrees?” Firepaw panted.

“It is where the territories of all four Clans meet,” replied Graypaw. “There are four great oaks there, as old as the Clans-”

“Be quiet!” ordered Tigerclaw. “Don’t forget how close we are to enemy territory!”

The two apprentices fell silent and Firepaw concentrated on walking silently. They crossed a shallow stream, keeping their paws dry by leaping from boulder to boulder across the pebbly riverbed.

By the time they reached Fourtrees, Firepaw was feeling completely out of breath and his paws ached. He wasn’t used to traveling so far and so fast. He was quite relieved when Lionheart and Tigerclaw led them out of the thick woods and stopped at the brow of a bush-covered slope.

It was sunhigh now. The clouds had cleared, and the wind had dropped. Below, in the dazzling sunlight, stood four enormous oaks, their dark green crowns reaching almost to the top of the steep slope.

“As Graypaw told you,” meowed Lionheart to Firepaw, “this is Fourtrees, where the territories of all four Clans meet. WindClan governs the high ground ahead of us, where the sun sets. You won’t be able to catch their scent today-the wind is blowing toward them. But you’ll learn it soon enough.”

“And ShadowClan holds power over there, in the darkest part of the forest,” added Graypaw, flicking his head sideways. “The elders say that the cold winds from the north blow over the ShadowClan cats and chill their hearts.”

“So many Clans!” Firepaw exclaimed. And so well organized, he added to himself, remembering Smudge’s lurid tales of wildcats wreaking terror in the forest.

“You see now why prey is so precious,” meowed Lionheart. “Why we must fight to protect what little we have.”

“But that seems foolish! Why can’t the Clans work together and share their hunting grounds, instead of fighting each other?” Firepaw suggested boldly.

A shocked silence greeted his words.

Tigerclaw was the first to reply. “That is treacherous thinking, kittypet,” he snapped.

“Don’t be too fierce, Tigerclaw,” warned Lionheart. “The ways of the Clans are new to this apprentice.” He looked at Firepaw. “You speak from your heart, young Firepaw. This will make you a stronger warrior one day.”

Tigerclaw growled. “Or it might make him give in to kittypet weakness right at the moment of attack.”

Lionheart glanced briefly at Tigerclaw before he continued. “The four Clans do come together peacefully, in a Gathering each moon. Here”-he bent his head toward the four mighty oaks below-“is where they meet. The truce lasts for as long as the moon is at its fullest.”

“Then there must be a meeting very soon?” Firepaw suggested, remembering how bright the moonlight had been the night before.

“Indeed there is!” answered Lionheart, sounding impressed. “Tonight, in fact. The Gatherings are very important because they allow the Clans to come together in peace for one night. But you must understand that longer alliances bring more trouble than they’re worth.”

“It is our Clan loyalty that makes us strong,” Tigerclaw meowed in agreement. “If you weaken that loyalty, you weaken our chances of survival.”

Firepaw nodded. “I understand,” he mewed.

“Come on,” meowed Lionheart, standing up. “Let’s keep moving.”

They paced along the ridge of the valley where Fourtrees stood. Now they were heading away from the sun as it began to sink in the afternoon sky. They crossed the stream at a place where it was narrow enough to leap over in one jump.

Firepaw sniffed the air. A new cat-scent touched his mouth glands, strong and sour. “Which Clan is that?” he asked.

“ShadowClan,” answered Tigerclaw grimly. “We are traveling along their border. Keep your wits about you, Firepaw. Fresher scents mean that a ShadowClan patrol is in the area.”

As Firepaw nodded, he heard a new noise. He stiffened, but the other cats kept up their pace, heading straight for the ominous rumbling.

“What’s that?” he called, trotting to catch up with them.

“You’ll see in a moment,” replied Lionheart.

Firepaw peered through the trees ahead. They seemed to be getting thinner, letting in a broad band of sunlight. “Are we at the edge of the woods?” he asked. Then he stopped and took a deep breath. The green forest scents were overlaid with other strange, dark smells. This time it was not cat-scent, but an odor that reminded him of his old Twoleg home. And the rumbling was getting louder, a ceaseless roar that made the ground tremble and ached in Firepaw’s ears.

“This is the Thunderpath,” meowed Tigerclaw.

Firepaw followed as Lionheart led them toward the edge of the forest. Then he sat down and all four cats looked out.

Firepaw could see a gray path like a river, cutting its way through the forest. The hard gray stone stretched ahead of him so far that the trees on the other side seemed blurred and tiny. Firepaw shuddered at the bitter smell that rose from the path.

Next moment he leaped back, his fur bristling, as a gigantic monster roared past. The branches of the trees on either side flapped madly in the wind that chased the speeding monster. Firepaw stared around at the other cats, his eyes wide, unable to speak. He had seen paths like this before near his old Twoleg home, but never this wide, nor with monsters so swift and fierce.

“Scared me too the first time,” remarked Graypaw. “But at least it helps to keep ShadowClan warriors from crossing into our territory. The Thunderpath runs for many pawsteps along our boundary line. And don’t worry; those monsters never seem to leave the Thunderpath. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t go too near.”

“It’s time we returned to camp,” meowed Lionheart. “You have seen all our boundaries now. But we’ll avoid Snakerocks, even though the way around is longer. An untrained apprentice would be easy prey for an adder, and I expect you are getting tired, Firepaw.”

Firepaw couldn’t help feeling relieved at the thought of returning to the camp. His head was spinnning with all the new smells and sights, and Lionheart was right: he was tired, and hungry. He fell in behind Graypaw as the cats turned away from the Thunderpath and headed back into the forest.

The dewy scents of evening filled the air as Firepaw made his way through the gorse entrance into the ThunderClan camp. Fresh-kill was waiting for them. Firepaw and Graypaw took their share from the pile that lay in a shady part of the clearing and carried it to the tree stump outside their quarters.