Here and there in the forest she encountered Twolegs, some of them living in pelt-dens, like the ones who came in greenleaf to the clearing on the ShadowClan border. For the last two days, she had been wandering aimlessly, not even knowing how to get home to the lake. Twigpaw set out to follow the scent trail, but it was faint to start with, and soon it faded altogether. Sk圜lan might have been there at some point-but they had moved on. She’d finally found the barn, but there was nothing there except a faint scent of cats to tell her that she had found the right place. She spent several days trekking to and fro around the edges of the Twolegplace, and she had many conversations with kittypets, who all looked at her as if they thought she had bees in her brain. She heard the Twolegs yowling behind her, and their heavy paws thumping along the ground, but she didn’t stop until she found refuge underneath a bush beside a Thunderpath.Īfter that, Twigpaw had begun to search for the yellow barn Alderheart had seen in his vision-but she’d had no idea where she was. Twigpaw swiped at the medicine Twoleg as he tried to force another pebble into her mouth, dropped to the ground, and fled out of the den. She waited for her chance, until one day a second Twoleg opened the door of the den where they were keeping her. He was kind, but Twigpaw knew that she couldn’t stay there. Maybe the white-pelted Twoleg was like one of our medicine cats. But it must have been at least a quarter moon.įinally she had started to feel stronger. She slept most of the time-maybe the white pebbles were Twoleg poppy seeds-so she wasn’t certain how long she had stayed there. It was full of peculiar, acrid scents, and a Twoleg with a white pelt kept forcing round white pebbles down her throat. After she’d lost consciousness when the monster struck her on the Thunderpath, she had opened her eyes to find herself in a strange Twoleg den. The days were beginning to blur into one another, so that now she had trouble remembering how long it had been since she’d first left ThunderClan. When did I last eat real prey? I can’t remember. . . Twigpaw had lapped it up it had tasted good, but it had made her feel sick for the rest of the day. The Twoleg had put out a hollow thing like a big hard leaf, full of some creamy white stuff. The day before, she had even stooped to rubbing up against the legs of a Twoleg, purring and trying to look cute. Her rumbling belly told her she should hunt, but she was too weary. Reaching the roots of an oak tree, Twigpaw flopped down to rest. She had begun to despair of ever finding her kin, or even remembering her way home. Around her, trees stretched in every direction she had no idea where she was or which way she should go. The sun was slipping down the sky, casting long shadows across her path. Twigpaw’s belly was yowling for food as she stumbled across a grassy clearing, forcing herself to take one paw step after another.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |