Эрин Хантер - Legends of the Clans

“There are four of them now,” Lightning Tail muttered, and Thunderstar realized he was right—there was one more dog than there had been in the attack on ThunderClan’s camp. The new dog was even larger than the other three and, as the cats watched, he growled and snapped at one of his packmates. The smaller dog snarled back, and soon the two were rolling in the dirt, struggling and yelping as the other dogs barked.

“They don’t even like each other,” Thunderstar noted.

Suddenly, the door of the Twoleg dwelling slammed open with a bang and a pair of Twolegs burst out. They were jabbering loudly and angrily, and one grabbed a piece broken off from one of the monster skeletons and used it to hit the fighting dogs. With a howl of pain, the dogs separated, and the Twolegs each grabbed one by the collar, continuing to jabber at each other.

“Is that what Twolegs are like?” Lightning Tail asked, shocked. “Why would any cat want to be a kittypet?”

“I don’t think all Twolegs are like this,” Thunderstar mewed uneasily. He hated those dogs, but he still couldn’t be glad to see them treated so cruelly.

The Twolegs began dragging the two dogs inside their dwelling, calling crossly to the other two, who followed. As the door closed behind them, Thunderstar’s heart began to pound faster. “They’re all inside. This is our chance to check things out.”

Signaling for Lightning Tail to follow, Thunderstar crept down the hill toward the Twoleg dwelling. He tried to keep a wary eye on both the door to the den and the dead monsters around it, but nothing stirred. The two cats halted by the fence of glittering silver strands that surrounded the whole Twolegplace.

Lightning Tail put out a tentative paw to touch one of the strands and immediately pulled it back. “Ouch,” he muttered. The silver was twisted into sharp knots at intervals. “How’re those dogs getting out? I couldn’t get through that, and they’re a lot bigger than I am.”

“Maybe the Twolegs let them out?” Thunderstar suggested, but Lightning Tail shook his head.

“I doubt it. Remember when dogs have come to the forest before?” he asked. “There are always Twolegs somewhere behind them, calling and whistling for them to come back. Why would these Twolegs let their dogs run free? They don’t seem like they want the dogs to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Thunderstar mewed thoughtfully. “I bet they’re supposed to patrol around here and guard the Twoleg den.”

The two cats began to walk alongside the silver strands, inspecting them carefully. They were far too high to jump. Dogs were good diggers, but the ground here was hard, and there was no sign of a tunnel.

They turned a corner, and Thunderstar spotted a bush growing close up beside the fence, long creepers climbing up and twining themselves among the silver strands. The strands were fully concealed behind the overgrown bush, so Thunderstar pushed his way through the branches for a closer look.

Low down, hidden by the bush, the silver strands were torn and hanging, leaving a hole big enough for even the largest of the dogs.

“Lightning Tail,” he called. “Over here.”

Thunderstar and Lightning Tail gazed at the opening. Now that they had found it, how could they prevent the dogs from coming through again?

“We can’t mend the strands,” Lightning Tail mewed at last. “What if we blocked the hole with something?”

“But what?” Thunderstar asked. He thought wildly of rolling a fallen tree across it to shut the dogs in, but they had no fallen tree and, if they had, he couldn’t imagine being able to move one with only the two of them.

“Rocks?” Lightning Tail asked dubiously. “Big ones?”

“But the dogs are stronger than we are,” Thunderstar objected. “Anything we can move, they can move.” He thought. “Maybe a whole heap of rocks? If we could pile enough together, the dogs might not be able to get through.”

Lightning Tail flexed his claws. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but I can’t think of anything better. And we need to get moving before the dogs come back.”

“Maybe the Twolegs will keep them shut in until tomorrow,” Thunderstar suggested hopefully.

Finding stones heavy enough to make a difference but light enough for Thunderstar and Lightning Tail to roll or push up to the fence was difficult, tedious work. Soon, both cats’ fur was heavy with dirt and their paws were sore from prying stones out of the ground.

“This won’t work,” Lightning Tail finally declared, eyeing the small heap of stones they had managed to gather. He shoved one of the larger stones to lie more securely against the edge of the hole, and another stone fell, rattling down the side of the heap and landing beside them with a thump. Thunderstar sighed and rolled it to a new position.

“Even if all it does is slow the dogs down a little, it’ll be better than nothing,” he mewed. But he felt dispirited. They had been working for a long time, and the pile of stones was nowhere close to blocking the hole. They needed a new plan. His eye fell upon a tangle of brambles growing farther along, close to the fence.

“What about this?” Thunderstar carefully bit off one of the brambles close to its root and carried it to the hole. Pushing the end of the bramble through a gap between the silver strands above the hole, he strung it across, weaving the other end through another gap in the strands near the bottom. “If they run into this, it’ll scratch their eyes. With enough of these here, they may decide it’s not worth it.”

Lightning Tail cocked his head and looked at the brambles. “It’s a good idea,” he said. “A scratch on the eye will make them think twice.” He bit off a stem and followed Thunderstar’s example, draping the bramble carefully across the hole.

They had both collected more brambles and were heading for the hole again when they heard a sudden bang. Thunderstar froze, the fur on his shoulders bristling with fear. The dogs burst out of the Twoleg den, barking loudly.

As the cats watched, the largest dog raised his head, sniffing the air. There aren’t enough brambles, Thunderstar thought, his heart sinking. Past the silver strands, through the hole, the dog’s eyes met Thunderstar’s.

With a snarl, he charged.

Thunderstar dropped the bramble. “Run!” he yowled.

Thunderstar ran, Lightning Tail beside him. His heart was pounding and his sore paws ached as he pushed himself harder. The land here was flat and open, with no trees to climb, but if they could make it back up the hill toward home, they would be able to climb out of the dogs’ reach. It seemed so far, though. Thunderstar stretched his legs, panting, willing himself to run faster.

A dog cut him off, growling. Thunderstar swerved and tried to run past it, and saw Lightning Tail dodge after him. But there was another dog blocking their path. Thunderstar doubled back, only to see yet another dog behind him. The four dogs were approaching from four different directions, drool dripping from their mouths as they herded the cats closer together.

We’re trapped between them like rabbits, Thunderstar thought, panicked. The gaps between the dogs weren’t large enough for them to run through. He and Lightning Tail had worked together to fight dogs in the past, but all their practiced maneuvers assumed there’d only be one dog after them, or at most two.

“What do we do?” Lightning Tail asked, his eyes wide. Yowling a challenge, he swiped his claws at one of the dogs. It fell back for a moment, but another dog darted in from the side immediately, its jaws open wide.