Chapter 9

Swirlpaw padded between Skypaw and Spiralpaw as the four friends headed deeper into the forest.

“I don’t think this is right,” Pinepaw mewed. “I feel like we’re just heading into a random forest. It felt like we crossed a random Thunderpath! It feels wrong.”

To Swirlpaw’s surprise, Spiralpaw mewed, “I agree. It feels like we’re headed the wrong way.” She shivered, and Swirlpaw pressed herself against her despite her aching sides.

“Well, we have to try, don’t we?” she asked. “Aren’t we supposed to find the Crystal Sun? Or else everything will be lost? We have to try.”

“What if the Crystal Sun is somewhere else?” Spiralpaw whimpered. “What if we’re doing all this for nothing? What if I’ve led us wrong?”

Swirlpaw licked the silver-and-white tabby she-cat’s ear comfortingly. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” she murmured.

“It’s not yours, Swirlpaw,” Skypaw told her. “It’s nobody’s fault. We’re all in this together, and if we make a mistake, the blame is on all of us. And we’re the ones who will make it right.”

 

“I want to hunt,” Pinepaw complained as the sky began to darken.

“Okay,” Swirlpaw agreed. She was eager to test her hunting skills again. “Pinepaw and I will hunt. Spiralpaw and Skypaw, you two can gather bedding.”

“I bet this will go better with Spiralpaw than someone here,” Skypaw teased Pinepaw, but he was already bounding away eagerly.

“Maybe you should tell him when he gets back,” Swirlpaw mewed, amused, and raced after Pinepaw.

Swirlpaw focused on her senses and almost instantly scented a bird. I guess the hunting is good here, she observed, dropping into a hunting crouch. She crept forward and realized a big blackbird was standing on a low branch of a tree, burying its beak into its glossy black feathers. Swirlpaw licked her lips as she waited for the right moment to pounce.

The branch is low enough for me to snatch that fat bird right off, she thought, excitement fizzing beneath her pelt. My first bird.

The bird seemed distracted by its cleaning. Swirlpaw gathered herself, about to pounce, when a shape exploded from the tree next to her and snatched the blackbird off its branch. It killed the bird with a quick blow to its neck.

“Hey!” Swirlpaw growled. “That was my bird!”

The cat blinked at her in surprise. Now that Swirlpaw was looking, she could see the cat had sleek, glossy black fur. Muscles rippled beneath her pelt. Her yellow eyes flashed in the growing darkness. If it weren’t for her small size, Swirlpaw would have run away at first sight. This cat looked strong enough to beat her in battle.

To Swirlpaw’s surprise, the cat dropped the blackbird and disappeared into the bushes. Swirlpaw stared for a moment, then picked up the blackbird and headed back to where her friends had been waiting.

Huh. I wonder who that was.

 

Swirlpaw gulped down her last bite of blackbird, trying to savor the juicy taste of fresh prey. They could be leaving this forest soon. After all, they only had about three-quarters of a moon left on their journey.

As Swirlpaw started to curl up in her nest, she realized Spiralpaw was shaking in the nest beside hers. She leaned over and nuzzled her shoulder. “Are you okay, Spiralpaw?” she whispered.

“I’m fine,” Spiralpaw gasped. “J-just really cold.”

Swirlpaw frowned. It wasn’t cold at all, especially in the warm den. She climbed out of her nest and curled up around Spiralpaw. “Is that better?” she murmured in her ear.

Swirlpaw felt Spiralpaw shrug. “A little,” she replied with a sigh. Swirlpaw waited until her breathing was slow and even. Spiralpaw was asleep.

Swirlpaw closed her eyes and drifted into her own dreams, dreams about what could have happened if that black cat hadn’t given up the blackbird, about what could have happened if that monster had hurt her more, about what could have happened if she hadn’t made the jump over the crack.

When she woke up the next morning, Spiralpaw was still asleep. Swirlpaw slid carefully out of the nest, trying to avoid waking her. She slid out of the temporary den.

Pinepaw was already outside, scratching a patch of dirt with his claws. Swirlpaw padded over to him. “Hi, Pinepaw,” she mewed. “Is Skypaw out hunting?” She hoped, if Spiralpaw was still cold, warm prey would warm her up. Pinepaw just nodded and continued scratching.

“Are you okay?” Swirlpaw asked anxiously.

Pinepaw nodded. “I’m fine,” he meowed calmly. His voice was much steadier than his body. “I’m just waiting for Spiralpaw. I want to talk to her.”

Swirlpaw sat down next to him and curled her tail over his shoulders. She noticed he’d grown. His shoulders were broader than they had been when they had first started their journey. “Do you want to talk to me about it?” she asked gently.

“No,” Pinepaw mewed. “It’s only for Spiralpaw.”

“Oh,” Swirlpaw meowed, disappointed. “Okay.” She turned and spotted Skypaw’s blue-gray pelt slipping through the trees toward them. “Hey, look.” She nudged Pinepaw playfully. “Prey’s coming.”

Skypaw padded out from the shadow and dropped two large shapes onto the ground. At that moment a silver-and-white blur burst out from the temporary den.

“We need to turn around!” Spiralpaw wailed.