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Allegiances Thunderclan Leader - Bluestar- blue-gray she-cat, tinged with silver around her muzzle Deputy - Redtail- small tortoiseshell tom with a distinctive ginger tail Apprentice, Dustpaw Medicine Cat - Spottedleaf- beautiful dark tortoiseshell she-cat with a distinctive dappled coat.
Warriors toms, and she-cats without kits - Lionheart: magnificent golden tabby tom with thick fur like a lion's mane.
Apprentice,Graypaw - Tigerclaw: big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws.
Apprentice, Ravenpaw - Whitestorm: big white tom Apprentice, Sandpaw - Darkstripe: sleek black-and-gray tabby tom - Longtail: pale tabby tom with dark black stripes - Runningwind: swift tabby tom - Willowpelt: very pale gary she-cat with unusual blue eyes.
The oldest tom in Thunderclan - Patchpelt: small balck-and-white tom - One-Eye: pale gray she-cat, the oldest cat in Thunderclan.
Virtually blind and deaf.
Medicine Cat - Runningnose: small gray-and-white tom Warriors Stumpytail- brown tabby tom Apprentice, Brownpaw Boulder-silver tabby tom Apprentices, Wetpaw Clawface- battle-scarred brown tom Apprentices, Littlepaw Nightpelt-black tom Queens Dawncloud-small tabby Brightflower-black-and-white she-cat Elders Asfur-thin gray tom Riverclan Leader Crookedstar- a huge light-colored tabby with a twisted jaw Deputy Oakhaert- warriors free online books reddish brown tom Cats Outside Clans Yellowfang - old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flattened face.
Smudge- Plump, friendly blak-and-white kitten who lives in a house on the edge of the forest.
Barley- black-and-white tom who lives on a farm close to the forest Writtened by Erin Hunter Prologue A half-moon glowed on smooth granite boulders,turning them silver.
The silence was broken only by the ripple of water from the swift black river and the whisper of trees in the forest beyond.
There was a stirring in the shadows, and from all around, lithe dark shapes crept steathly over the rocks.
Unsheathed claws glinted in the moonlight.
Wary eyes flashed like amber.
And then, as if on a silent signal, the creatures leaped at each other, and suddenly the rocks were alive with wrestling, screeching cats.
At the center of the frenzy of fur and claws, a massive dark tabby pinned a bracken-colored tom to the ground and drew up his head triumphantly.
The Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!
A warning yowl came from the shore, shrill and anxious.
More RiverClan warriors are coming!
The drenched RiverClan warriors bounded silently up teh shore and hurled themselves into battle withut even stopping to shake the water from there fur.
The dark tabby glared down at Oakheart.
The despreate scream of a Thunderclan she-cat rose above the clamor.
A wiry Riverclan tom had pinned the brown warrior flat on her belly.
Now he kunged toward her neck with kaws still dripping form his swim across the river.
Tigerclaw heard the cry and let go of Oakheart.
With a mighty leap, he knocked the enemy warrior away from the she-cat.
Mousefur scrambled to her paws, wincing form a deep gash on her shoulder.
Behind her, Tigerclaw spat with rage ad the RiverCan tom sliced open his nose.
Blood blinded him for an instant, but he lunged forward regardless and sank his teeth into the hind leg of his enemy.
The RiverClan cat squealed and struggled to get free.
There are too many RiverClan warriors!
Thunderclan will never be beaten!
We will have anotherchance to avenge this defeat.
At once his warriors squirmed and struggled away from their opponets.
Spitting and snarling,they backed toward Redtail.
For a heartbeat, theRiverclan cats looked confused.
Was this battle so easily won?
Than Oakhaert yowled a jubliant cry.
As soon as they heard him, the RiverClanwarriors raised their voices and joined their deputy in caterwauling their victory.
Redtail looked down at his warriors.
With a flick of his tail, he gave the signal and the Thinderclan cats dived down the far side of the Sunningrocks, then disappered into the trees.
Hehesitated at the edge oftheforestand glanced back at the bloodstained battlefield.
His face was grim, his eyes furios slits.
Then he leaped after his Clan into the silent forest.
In a deserted clearing, and old gray she-cat sat alone, staring up at the clear night sky.
All around her in theshadows she could hear the breathing and stirrings of sleeping cats.
A small tortoiseshell she-cat emerged from a dark corner, her pawsteps quik and soundless.
The gray cat dippedher head in gretting.
You are a gifted medicine cat, Spottedleaf.
Thunderclan has not been beaten in its own territory since i became leader,: she murmured"These are difficult times for our clan.
The season of nweleaf is late.
Thunderclan needs more warriors if it is to survive.
But training our young to become warriors takes time.
If Thunderclan is to defend its territory, it must have new warriors as soon as possible.
Has StarClan spoken to you?
Spottedleaf's tail twitched and the fur along her spine bristled.
Bluestar's ears pricked but she remained silent as Spottedleaf continued to gaze upward.
After a few moments, Spottedleaf lowered her head and turned to Bluestar.
A distant look came into her eyes.
How can it save us?
Spottedleaf shook her head.
Fire will save our clan.
Rusty could sense something was near.
The young tomcats's eyes opened wide as he scanned the dense undergrowth.
This place was unfamilar, but the strage scents drew him onward, deeper into the shadows.
His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger.
He opened his jaws slightly to let the warm mells of the forest reach the scent glads on the roof of fim mouth.
Musty ordors of leaf mold mingled with the temoting aroma of a small furry creature.
Suddenly a flash of gray raced past him.
Rusty stopped still, listening.
It was hiding in the leaves less than two tail-lenghts away.
Rusty knew it was a mouse-- he could feel the rapid pulsing of a tiny hearty deep within his ear fur.
He swallowed, stifling his rumbling somach.
Soon his hunger would be satisfied.
Slowly he lowered his body into postintion, crouching for the attack.
He was downwind of teh mouse.
He knew it was not aware of him.
Withone final; check on his prey's position, Rusty pushed back hard on his haunches and sprangkicking up leaves in the forest floor as he rose.
The mouse dived for cover, heading toward a hole in the ground.
But Rusty was already on top of it.
He scooped it into the air, hooking the helpless creature with his thorn-sharp claws, flinging it up in a high arc onto the leaf-covered ground.
The mouse landed dazed, but alive.
It tried to run, but Rusty snatched it up again.
He tossed the mouse once more, this time a little farther away.
The mouse managed to scramble a few paces before Rusty caught up with it.
Suddenly a noise roared nearby.
Rusty looked around, and as he did so the mouse was able to pull away from his claws.
When Rusty turned back he saw it dart into the darlness among the tangled roots of a tree.
Angry, Rusty gave up the hunt.
He spun around, his green eyes glaring, intent on searching out the noise that had cost him his kill.
The sound rattled on, becoming more familiar.
Rusty blinked open his eyes.
The forest had disappreared.
He was inside a hot and sirles kitchen, curled in his bed.
Moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows on the smooth, hard floor.
The noise had been the rattle of hard, dried pellets of food as they were tipped into his dish.
Rusty had been dreaming.
Lifting his head, he rested his chin on the side of his bed.
His collar rubbed uncomfortably around his neck.
In his dream he had felt fresh air ruffling the soft fur where the collar usually pinched.
Rusty rolled onto his back, savoring the dream for a few more moments.
He could still smell mouse.
It was the third tom since full moon that he'd had the dream, and every time the mouse had escaped his grasp.
He licked his lips.
From his bed he could smell the bland odor of his food.
His owners always refilled his dish before they went to bed.
The dusty smell chased away the warm scents of his dream.
But the hunger rumbled on in his stomach, so Rusty stretched the sleep out of his limbs and padded across teh kitchen floor to his dinner.
The food felt dry and tasteless on his tongue.
Rusty reluctantly swallower one more mouthful.
Then he turned click the following article from the fooddish and pushed his way out throught the cat flap, the hoping that the smell of the garden would bring back the fellings from his dream.
Outside, the moon was bright.
Rusty stalked down the tidy garden, following the starlit gravel path, felling the stoned cold and sharp beneath his paws.
He made his dirt beneath a large bush with glossy green leaves and heavy purple flowers.
Their sickly sweet scent cloyed the damp air around him, and he curled his lip to drive the smell out of his nostrils.
Afterward, Rusty settled down on top of one of the posts in the fence that marked the limits of his graden.
Itt was a favorite sopt of his, as he could see rigt into the neighbooring gardens as well as into the dense green forest on the other side of the garden fence.
The rain had stoppd.
Behind him, the close-cropped lawn was bathed in moonlight, but beyond his fence the woods were full of shadows.
Rusty stretched his head forward to take a sniff of the damp air.
His skin was warm and dry inder his thick coat, but he could fell the weight of the rain drops taht sparled on his ginger fur.
He heard his owners giving him one last call from the back door.
If he went to them now, they would grett him with gentle words and caresses and welcome him onto thier bed, where he would curl, purring, warm in the crook of a bent knee.
But this time Rusty ignored his owners.
Suddenly the fur on his spine prickled.
Was something moving out there?
Was something watching him?
Rusty stared ahead, but it was impossible to see or smell anything in the dark, tree-scented air.
He lifed his chin boldly, stood up, and stretched, onepaw gripping each corner of the fencepost as he straightened his legs and arched his back.
He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of the woods once more.
It seemed to promise him something tempting him onward into the whisperin shadow.
Tensing him muscles, he crouched for a moment.
Then he leaped lightly down into the rough grass on the other side of the garden fence.
As he landed, the bell on his collar rang out through the still night hair.
A young black-and-white cat was balancing ungracefully on the fence.
All he wants to do is eat and sleep.
He caught a robin there!
Now he complains about birds because they disturb his dozing.
Huge wildcats who eat live rabbit for breakfast and sharpen there claws on old bones!
The black-and-white cat turned and plunged off the fence bak down into his own garden.
Rusty sat down in the coarse grass beyond the arden fence.
He gave his shoulder a nervous lick and wondered how much of Smudge's gossip was true.
Suddenly the movemen of a tiny creature caught his eye.
He wathed it scuttle under some bramblems.
Instinct made him drop into a low crouch.
With one slow paw after another he drew his body froward through the undergrowth.
Ears pricked, nostrils flared, eyes unvlinking, he visit web page toward the animal.
He could see it cleary now, sitting up among the barbed branches, nibbling on a large seed held between it's paws.
It was a mouse.
Rusty rocked his haunches from side to side, reparing to leap.
He held his breath in case his bell rang again.
Thsi was even better taht his dreams!
Then a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves made him jump.
His bell jangled treacherously, and the mouse darted away into the thickest tangle of the bramble bush.
Rusty stood very still and looked around.
He could see the white tip of a red bushy tail trailing through a clump of tall ferns up ahead.
He smelled a string, stranges scent, definitely a meat-eater, but niether cat nor dog.
Distracted, Rusty forgot about the mouse and watched the red tail curiously.
He wanted a better look.
All of Rusty's senses strained ahead as he prowled forward.
Then he detected another noise.
It came from behind, but sounded muted and distant.
He swiveled his ears backward to hear it better.
It was only when the faint rustling behind him became a loud and fast-approuching leaf-crackle that Rusty realized he was in danger.
Twisting and yowling, he tried to throw off the attacker that had fastened itself to his back.
It was gripping him with incredibly sharp claws.
Rusty could feel spiked teeth pricking at his neck.
He writhed and book old game online jungle from whisker to tail, but he couldn'y free himself.
For a second he felt helpless; then he froze.
Thinking fasthe filpped over onto his back.
He knew instinctively how dangerous it was to expose his soft belly.
He heard a "hhuuffff" beneath him as the breath was knocked out of his attacker.
Thrashing fiercely, Rusty managed to wriggle free.
Without looking back he sprinted toward his home.
Behind him, a rush of pawsteps told Rusty his attacker was giving a chase.
Even through the pain from his scratches stung beneah his fur.
Rusty decied he would rather turn and fight than let himself be jumped on again.
He skidded to a stop, spun around, and faced his pursuer.
It was another kitten, with a thick coat of shaggy gray fur, strong legs, and a broasd face.
In a heartbeat, Rusty smelledthat it was a tom, and sensed the power in the sturdy shoulders underneath the soft coat.
The the kitten crashed into rusty at full pelt.
Taken by surprise by Rusty's turn about, it felt back into a dazed heap.
The impact knocked the breath out of Rusty, and he staggered.
He quickly found his footing and arched his back, puffing out his orange fur, ready to spring onto the other kitten.
But his attacker simply sat up and began to lick a forepaw, all signs of aggression gone.
Rusty felt strangely diappointed.
Every part of him was tense, ready for battle.
Then he remembered the streght he had felt in this kitten's paws when he had pinned him to the ground.
He dropped onto his pads, loosened his muscles, andlet his spine unbend.
He hid his confusion by leaning down to lick his ruffled chest.
Don't you know it's dangerous?
Graypaw looked up at him for a moment, narrowing his big yellow eyes "Oh, I'm far from the most dangerous If I were even half a warrior, I'd have given an intruder like you some real wounds to think about.
What did this cat mean by "intruder"?
You're obviously not from one of the other Clans.
Graypaw let out an impatient hiss.
I belong to ThunderClan.
The other Clans are always trying to steal pray from our territory, especially ShadowClan.
They're so Fierce they would have ripped you to shreds, no questions asked.
It's the job of the Thunderclan warriors to keep them out of out territory.
When I've finished my training, I'll be so dangerous, I'll have the other Clans shaking in their flea-bitten skins.
They won't dare come near us then!
This must be one of the wildcats Smudge had warned him about!
Living rough in the woods, hunting and fighting each other for every last scrap of food.
Yet Rusty didn't feel scared.
In fact, it was hard not to admire this confident kitten.
Did you think I was?
I have to go through the training first.
Kits have to be six moons old before the even being training.
Tonight is my first night out as an apprentice.
Your life would be so much easier," Rusty meowed.
All you have to do is sit where they can see you and look hungry for a couple of days--" "And they'd feed me pellets that look like rabbit droppings and soft slop!
I can't think of anything worse then being a kittypet!
They're nothing but Twoleg toys!
Eating stuff that doesn't look like food, making dirt in a box of gravel, sticking their noses outside only when the Twolegs allow them?
Out here it's wild, and it's free.
We come and go as we please.
Have you ever tasted mouse?
It makes a big difference.
You need to be born with warrior blood in your veins, or the feel of the wind in your whiskers.
Kitties born into Twoleg nest could never feel the same way.
Graypaw did not reply.
He suddenly sniffed midlick, one paw still raised, and sniffed the air.
The won't be pleased to find you hunting in out territory!
He couldn't smell anything different on the leaf-scented breeze.
But his fur stood on end at the note of urgency in Graypaw's voice.
He was too late.
A voice meowed behind him, firm and menacing.
White hairs streaked her muzzle, and an ugly scar parted the fur across her shoulders, but her smooth gray coat shone like silver in the moonlight.
He crouched even lower when a second cat--A handsome, golden tabby--followed the gray cat into the clearing.
Rusty copied Graypaw and crouched low to the forest floor, his ears twitching nervously.
These cats had an air of strength he had never seen in any of his garden friends.
Maybe what Smudge had warned him about was true.
Her piercing host books eyes made him feel even more vunerable.
The words inflamed Tusty, but he held his tongue.
The warning look in Bluestar's stare told him that she had observed the anger in his eyes, and he looked away.
He's my mentor, which means he's training me to be a warrior.
Bluestar was still staring at Online slot booking for passport in bangalore />Rusty and Graypaw exchanged confused glances.
How could she know?
You attacked him bravely.
Graypaw is stronger then you, but you used your wits to defent yourself.
And you turned to face him when he chased you.
I'ce not seen a kittypet do that before.
Her next words surprised him even more.
We patrol this border frequently, so I have often seen you sitting on your boundary, staring out into the forest.
And now, at last, you have dared to place your paws here.
You would have caught that mouse if you had not heisted so long.
His deep meow was respectful but insistent.
He should not be hunting in ThunderClan territory.
Send him home to his Twolegs!
Bluestar's words had made him glow with pride.
She had noticed him; she had been impressed by him.
Now her gaze snapped back to Rusty.
Her blue eyes were blazing with anger.
Lionheart stepped to his leader's side.
Both warriors loomed over him now.
Rusty looked into Bluestar's threatening stare and his pride dissolved.
These were not cozy fireside cats he was dealing with--They were mean, hungry cat who were probably going to finish what Graypaw had started.
Chapter 2 I do not Own the Warrior's Series, Erin Hunter does.
In no way will I try to sell this or use this at my own.
This is for fun and for people who can't get the books from other places.
Lionheart remained silent as he towered over Rusty.
He flattened his ears and crouched under teh golden warrior's cold stare.
His fur prickled uncomfortably.
You come here onlt to hunt for sport.
But we hunt to survive.
He stopped trembling, sat up, and straightened his ears.
He raised his eyes to meet hers.
He heard the approval in Bluestar's voice and noticed as she swapped a meaningful glance with Lionheart.
The look made him curious.
Queitly he asked, "Is survival here really so hard?
And this year, late newleaf means prey is scarce.
Bluestar's guarded answers were just making him more and more curious.
Some are too young or too old busy caring for kits to hunt.
Bluestar looked again at Lionheart.
The golden tabby stared back at her steadily.
At last she returned her gaze to Rusty and meowed, "Perhaps you shoudl find out these things for yourself.
Would you like to join Thunderclan?
Bluestar went on: " If you did, you would train with Graypaw to become a warriors.
There is no guarantee you would become a ful warrior.
It might prove too difficult fo you.
After all, you are used to a comfortable life.
He swun his head around to face teh golden tabby.
The fact is, Thunderclan needs more warriors.
You must eitherlive with us and respect our ways, or return to you Twolegplace and never come back.
You cannot live with a paw in each world.
Surely his encounter with these cats had proved to him just how easy and luxurious his life was.
Not quiet so keen to fight a clan cat, I suspect!
Was that what Bluestar meant by the Cutter?
The clan will demand great loyalty and hard work.
You wil be expected to protect the clan with your life if necessary.
And there are many mouths to feed.
But the rewards are great.
You will remain a tom.
You will be trained in the ways of the wild.
You will learn what it is to be a real cat.
The strength and the fellowship of the clan will always be with you, even when you hunt alone.
Bluestar semed to be offering him the life he had lived so many times, and so tantalizinly, in his dreams, but could he live like taht for real?
Lionheart interrupted his thoughts.
We must be ready to join the other patrol at moonhigh.
Tigerclaw will wonder what has become of us.
He stared -- excited, uncertain--up past the ferns that encircled him, through the canopy of leaves, to the stars that glittered in teh clear sky.
The scent of the clan cats still hung heavy in the evening air.
And as Rusty turned and headed for home, he felt a strange sensation inside him, tugging him back into he depths of the forest.
His fur pirckled delicously in the light wind, and the rustling leaves seemed to whisper his name into the shadows.
Writtened by:Erin Hunter Chapter 3 That Morning, as Rusty slept off his night's wandering the mouse dream came again, even more vivid than before.
Free of his colar, beneath the moon, he stalked the timid creature.
But this time he was aware of being wached.
Shining from the shadows of the forest he saw dozens of yellow eyes.
The clan cats had entered his dream worlds.
Rusty woke, blinking in the bright sunshine hat was streaming across the kitchen floor.
His fur felt heavy and thick with warmth.
His food bowl had been topped up, and his water bowl rinsed out and filled with bitter-tasting Twoleg water.
Rusty perferred drinking frm puddles outside, but when it was hot, or he was very thirsty, he had to admit it was easie to lap up the water indoors.
Could he really abandon this comfortable life?
He ate, then pushed his way out of he cat flap into the garden.
The day promised to be warm, and the harden was heavy wih the smell of early blossoms.
The baby sparrows were out streching their wings.
Smudge yawned and licked his nose.
I'd already eaten enough at home.
Anyway why weren't you out earlier?
Yesterday you were complaining about Henry sleeping his time away, and today you're not much better yourself.
At once he felt the blod stir in his veins and his fur stiifen.
Smudge loked down at him, his eyes wide.
Did you catch anything?
Or did anything catch you?
Bigger stronger than any of us.
Smudge interrupted, his tail twitching with excitment.
His blac-andwhite friends had never shown any intrest in venturing into the woods.
He was perfectly contenty living with his house folk.
He would never understand the restless longing that Rusty's dreams stirred in hom noght after night.
Im going to join them.
Sorry i haven't posted.
Smudge scrambled down from the fence and stood in front of Rusty.
Ï"might never see you again.
My housefolk will get another cat.
You'll get onwith him fine.
YOU get along with everyone!
Rusty twitched his tail impatiently.
If I stay around here till they take me to the cutter, I won't be the same either.
We could still have fun.
I'll miss you, but I hae to go.
I can see I can't stop you, but at least lets spend one more morning together.
Every one of senses felt supercharged, as if he were poised before a huge jump.
As sunhigh approached, Rusty grew more and more impatient to see if Lionheart would really be waiting for him.
The idle buzz of meows from his old friends seemed to fade into the background as all his senses strained toward the woods.
Rusty jumped down from his garden fence for the last time and crept into the woods.
He had said his good-byes to Smudge.
Now all histhoughts were focused on the forestand teh cats who lived in it.
As he approched the spot where he had warriors free online books with the clan cats the night before, he sat down ans tasted the air.
Tall trees shielded the ground from the midday sunshine.
Here and there a patch of sunlight shone through a gap in the eaves and lit up the forest floor.
Rusty could smell the same cat-scent as last night, but he had no idea whether it was old or new.
He lifted his head and sniffed uncertainly, "You have a lot o learn.
Ëven a the tiniest clan kit knows when another cat is nerby.
Now he recognized teh scent it was Lionheart.
Hastily, Rusty sniffed again.
The scents of Bluestar and Graypaw were still there, but not as strong as teh previos night.
Hesitantly, he mewed"Bluestar and GRaypaw aren't with you this time.
Öne of Thunderclans's senior warriors.
Whitestorm stood in front of rusty an gaxed down on him.
His white coat was thick and unmarked and his eyes were yellow of sunbaked sand.
Rusty flattened his ears warily, and tensed his muscles in preparation for a fight.
Written by Erin hunter "Relax, before your fear-scent brings unwanted attention," growled Lionheart.
Rusty jumped to words. book of the dead online game horror android dementia fantastic paws and followed as quickly as he could.
The two warriors made no allowences fro Rusty as they sped through the forest, and before long he was struggling to keep up.
Their pace barely slowed as they led him over fallen trees that they cleared in a single leap, but which Rusty had to scramble over paw by paw.
Thay passed through sharply fragrant pine trees, where they had to jump across depp gullies chrunesd up by a Twoleg tree-eater.
From the safety of his garden fence, Rusty had often heard it roaring and snarling in the distance.
One gully was too wide to jump, half filled with slimy, foul-smelling wwater.
The Clan cats waded through without hesitating.
Rusty had never put a paw in water before.
But he was determined not to show any sings of weekness, so he narrowed his eyes and followed, trying to ignore the uncomfortable wetness that soaked his belly fur.
At last Lionheart and Whitestorm paused.
Rusty skidded to a halt behind them andstood panting while the two warriors stepped onto a rock taht rested on the edge of a small ravine.
You must be able t scent it," hissed Whitestorm impatiently.
Rusty closed his eyes and sniffed.
The scents here were very diffrent from the cat-scent he was uds to.
The air smelled stronger, speaking of many, many diffrent cats.
He nodded thoughtfully and announced, "I can smell cats.
Rusty followed, and Whitestorm took up the rear.
As his sides scraped against the prickly gorse, Rusty flattened into a broad, strong-smelling track.
This must be the main entrance into the camp, he thought.
Rusty looked around, his eyes wide.
There were cats everywhere, sitting alone or in groups, sharing food or purring quietly at the groomed one another.
It is a custome that binds the members of teh Clan together.
Suddenly shy of metting any cat;s gaze directly, Rusty looked around the clearing.
It was edged with thick grass, dotted with treestumps and a fallen tree.
A thick curtain of ferns and gorse shielded the camp from the rest of the woods.
He couldn't see through the knot of prickly branhes, but he could hear the mewling of severalkittens from somewhere inside.
As he watched, a ginger she-cat squirmed out through a small gap in the front.
That must be one of the queens, Rusty thought.
A tabby queen with distinctive black markings appeared around the bramblebush.
The two she-cats exchanged a friendly lick between the ears before the tabby slipped inside the nursery, murmuring to the squealing kits.
Loyalty to teh clan is teh forst law in our warrior code, a lesson you must learn quickly if you wish to stay with us.
Rusty niffed the air too, and was pleased that he was ableto recognize the scent of the gray she-cat a moment before she appeared from the shadow of a large boulder that lay beside them at the head of the clearing.
Whitestorm replied, "Lionheart was convinced he would not.
Both cats nodded "Than I shall announce his arrival to the Clan.
Rusty stayed where he was, flanked by Lionhear and Whitestorm.
The other cats settled themselves below the Highrock and looked expectantly up at their leader.
Rusty felt a rush of relief as he recognized Graypaw's thick gray fur among the cats.
Beside his sat a young tortoiseshell queen, her black-topped tail tucked neatly over small white paws.
A large dark gray tabby crouched behind them, the black stripes on his fur lookig like shadows on a moonlit forest floor.
When the cats were still.
Bluestar spoke, "Thunderclan needs more warriors,"she began.
It has been decided that Thunderclan wll take in an outsider to train as a warrior.
Rusty craned his neck and saw a pale tabby cat standing up and glaring defiantly at the leader.
Bluestar ignored the tabby and addressed all of her Clan.
HIs fur prickled and he swallowed nervously.
There was silence for a moment.
Rusty was sure they must all the game plan book able to hear his heart pulsing and smell his fear-scent.
Now a deafening crescend of caterwauling rose from the crowd.
That's not the scent of any clan I know!
Önce a kittypet, always a kittypet.
This clan needs wildborn warriors to defend it, not another soft mouth to feed.
He smells you fear.
YOU must prove to him and the other cats that your fear will not hold you back.
How could he ever prove to these firece cats taht he wasn't just a kittypet?
The tabby continued to jeer at him.
At worst, it will bring the Twolegs into out terriotory, looking for the poor lost kittypet who fills the woods with his pitiful tinkling.
Longtail went on, well aware that he had the support of his audience.
Written By; Erin Hunter Rusty still not move, but this time he was trying to pinpoint Longtail's position.
There he was, just behind a dusky brown queen.
Rusty flattened his ears, narrowed his eyes and, hissing, leaped through the starled cats to fling himself onto tormentor.
Longtail was completely unprepared for Rusty's attack.
He stahhered sideways, losing his foting on the har-baked earth.
Filled witgh rage and desperate to prove himself, Rusty dug his clwas deep into the tabby cat's fur and sank his teeth, N stuble rituals of aswiping and boxing preceded this fight.
The two cats were locked in a screaming, writhing tussle that flipped and somersaulted around the clearing ath the heart of the camp.
The other cats had to spring out of the way to aviod the screeching whirlwind of fur.
As Rusty scratched and struggled, he was suddenly aware that he felt no fear, only exhilaration, Through the roaring of the blood in his ears, he could hear he cats around them wailing with excitment.
Then Rusty felt his collar tighten around his neck.
Longtail had gripped in between his teeth and was tugging, and tugging hard.
Rusty felt terrible pressure at his throat.
Unable to breathe, he started to panic.
He writhedand twised, but each movement only made the pressure worse.
Retching and gulping for air.
And suddenly, with a loud snap, he was free.
Longtail tumbled away from him.
Rusty was scrabled to his paws and looked around.
Longtail's mouth, Rusty saw his collar, magled and broken.
At once, Bluestar leaped down from teh Highrock and silenced the noisy crowd with a thunderous caterwaul.
Rusty and Longtail remained fixed to the spot, gasping for breath.
Clumps of fur hung from their ruffled coats.
Rusty could fell a cut stinging above his eye.
Longtail's left ear was badly torn, and blood dripped down his lean shoulders onto the dusty ground.
They stared at each other, their hostility not yet spent.
Bluestar stepped froward and took the collar from longtail.
She placed it on the ground in front of her and meowed,"The newcomer has lost his Twoleg collar in battle for his honor.
Starclan has spoken its approval--this can has been released from the hold on his Twolegs owners, and is free to join ThunderClan as an apprentice.
He stood up and stepped forward into a shaft of sunshine, welcoming the warmth on hsi sore muscles.
The pool of light blazed his bright on his orange pelt, making his fur glow.
Rusty lifted hi head proudltand looked at the cats that code booking free bet9ja him.
The time no cat argued or jeered.
He had shown himself to be worthy opponent in battle.
Bluestar approached Rusty and placed teh shredded collar on the ground in front of him.
She touched his ears gently with her nose.
Her eyes flashed briefly as, if her words had more meaning for her than Rusty knew.
Without hesitating, Rusty turned and kicked dust and grass over his collarad though burying his dirt.
Longtail growled and limped out of teh clearing toward a fern-shaded corner.
The cats spilt into groups, murmuring to each other exciredly.
A thrill of pride surged through hima t the sound of his new name.
He turned to greet the gray apprentice with a welcoming sniff.
Longtail is awarriors, although he only finished his training two mooons ago.
That scar you left on his ear won't let him forget you in hurry.
You've spolied his good looks, that's for sure.
As he washed he heard his new name again, achoing among the meows of cats.
Younger and a lot prettier than most--" A low yowl next to the two cats stopped Graypaw midspeech.
They both turned, and Firepaw recongnized the powerful gray tabby cat who had sat behind Graypaw earlier.
The sleek tom looked at Firepaw for a moment.
Longtail is a young warrior, but I can't imagine hime being neaten by a kittypet!
Firepaw barely had time to look around before a young cat crashed through the bushes and into the camp.
He was skinny and --apart from the white tip of his long, thin tail -- jet black from head to toe.
Graypaw gaspoed "That's Ravenpaw!
Why is he alone?
He was panting heavily.
His coat was ruffled and dusty, and his eyes were wild with fear.
Tigerclaw's his mentor," Graypaw explained quickly.
He lifted his head to listen as Bluestar steped forward.
The other cats drew back, curling their lips with anxiety.
He turned to the crowd of eager faces taht surrounded himand summoned enough breath to declare, "Redtail is dead!
His right foreleg glistened, wet with blood that flowed from the deep gash on his shoulder.
He's one of the greatest warriors in the forest.
Wish it could have been me.
I'd have really--"Graypaw was silenced by a fierce glance from old gray tome who had first sensed Ravenpaw's return Firepaw turned his attention back to ravenpaw.
He said the next Riverclan warrior to be caught in Thunderlcan territory would be killed, but Oak.
Oakheart would not back down.
He said his Cl-Clan had to be fed, Whatever we threatened.
HIs wound was still bleeding heavily, and he stood awkwardly to keep the weight off his shoulder.
It was hard to see what was warriors free online books />The fighting was vicious.
I saw Oakheart had Redtail pinned to the ground, but then redtail.
Half scrambling, half falling, he slithered off the Highrock and collapsed on the ground below.
A ginger queen bounded toward him and crouched at his side.
She licked his cheek briefly and called out "Spottedleaf!
She hurried over to Ravenpaw and mewes for the queen to stand back.
Then she used her small pink nose to roll the apprentice over so that she could take a good look at the wound.
She glanced up and meowed.
All eyes turned to the direction it had come from.
A massive dark brown tabby staggered through the gorse tunnel.
Between his sharp of another cat.
He dragged the tattered creature into the center of the clearing.
Firepaw craned his neck and glimpsed a flash of bright ginger tail hanging limply in the dust.
Shock rippled through the Clan like a chill breeze.
Besides Firepaw, Graypaw dropped into a crouch as grief swept over source />TIgerclaw let the scruff of Redtail's neck fall from his mouth.
He looked steadily back at bluestar.
I couldn't save him, but I managed to take Oakheart's life while he was still gloating over his victory.
The apprentice's eyes were dark with sadness.
After moment's pause several of the cats moved forward to lick Redtails bedraggled fur.
As they groomed they purred hushed phrases to the dead warrior.
Firepaw whispered into graypaw's ear, "What are they doing?
You can see them in the Silverpelt.
Each star is a Starclan warrior.
Redtail will be among them tonight.
Bluestar has remained silent while the first cats came to pay their respects to Redtail.
Now she leaped down from the Highrock and walked slowly toward Redtail's body The others cats retreated and watched their leader crouched down to share tongues with her old comrade one last time.
When she had finished she raised he head and spoke.
He voice was low and thick with grief, and the Clan listened in silence"Redtail was a brave warrior.
Hos loyalty to ThunderClan could never be doubted.
I always relied on his judgement, for it bore witness to needs of the clan, and was never swayed by self interest on pride.
He would have made a fine leader.
Then she lowered herself onto her belly her head bowed, her paws stretched neatly before her, and silently she grieved for her lost friend.
Several other cats came and lay down beside her, their bowed heads and hunched back echoing her mournful pose.
He had not known redtail, but he couldn't help feeling moved as he witnessed the Clan mourn.
Graypaw came and stood beside him again.
That brown -striped tabby over there.
I wonder who his mentor will be?
Firepaw looked past him to the clan leader.
She won't want to let him go too quickly.
He was one of the best warriors.
Not as big and powerful as Tigerclaw or Lionheart, but quick and clever.
His massive body showed signs of his warrior life.
One of his ears was split into a deep vee shape, and a thick scar sliced the bridge of nose.
Suddenly Tigerclaw stood up and stalked over to Ravenpaw.
Spottedleaf was crouching beside Tigerclaw's wounded apprentice, using her teeth and front paws to press wads of cobweb onto his shoulder wound.
Fireoaw leaned toward graypaw and asked, "What's spootedleaf doing?
It looked like a nasty cut.
And Ravenpaw seemed really shaken up.
He's always been a bit jumpy, but I 've never seen him this bad before.
Let's go and see if he's woken up yet.
Do you think you can save him?
I've spent a lot of time training him up, I don't want my efforts to be wasted at the first battle.
He just needs to rest.
He jabbed Ravenpaw with one of his front claws.
This apprentice needs to keep as still as possible until the cat has healed.
We don't want him opening his wound by jumping about trying to please you.
He https://gsdonline.ru/book/best-no-limit-holdem-books-cash-games.html that few cats dared to give orders to the warrior like that.
The big tabby stiffened, and seemed about to speak when Spottedleaf mewed teasingly, "Even you know better than to argue with a medicine cat, Tigerclaw.
He turned to leave and caught the sight of Graypaw and Firepaw.
Bluestar mentioned that she had stumbled across some stray kittypet.
So she's actually going to try you out, is she?
Tigerclaw eyed him thoughtfully.
Just then, Ravenpaw stirred and twitched his ears.
Firepaw realized she was serious, despite the lively glimmer in her warm amber eyes.
See you later, Ravenpaw.
He was clearly taking his duties as a guide very seriously.
Firepaw followed him to a large bush a few paces away from the Highrock.
There was a clear view from here right down to the gorse entrance to the camp.
The branches of the bush hung low, but Firepaw could see a sheltered space inside where the warriors made their nests.
The younger warriors eat nearby.
Sometimes they are invited to join the senior warriors for eating, which is a big honor.
The elders have their own place on the other side of the clearing.
Come on, I'll show you.
They stopped beside a fallen tree that sheltered a patch of lush grass.
Crouched among the soft greenery were four elderly cats rucking into a plump young rabbit.
Dustpaw abd Sabdpaw would have brought them that," whispered Graypaw.
His patchy fur was dark brown and there was only a stump where his tail should have been.
Firepaw and Graypaw both shook their heads.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw are turning into fine hunters.
Would you mind if these youngsters shared a mouse, One-eye?
Firepaw noticed one of her eyes were clouded an sightless.
He stepped forward and took a large mouse from the pile of prey, and then dropped it at Firepaws feet.
He suddenly felt excited by the warm smells that were rising from the peice of fresh-kill.
His whole body quivered at the thought of sharing his first real food as a Clan member.
Just save me some!
Firepaw crouched down and sang with flavors of the forest.
As the two apprentices shared the mouse, they listened to the elders talk among themselves.
It was not very long after she lost her kits.
But she'll need to make up her mind quickly.
According to Clan custom, the choice has to be made before moonhigh after the death of the old deputy.
Firepaw raised his head and looked around the clearing.
What could Halftail mean?
To Firepaw, all the warriors looked worthy of becoming deputy.
Perhaps he meant Tigerclaw, after all, he had avenged Redtail's death.
Tigerclaw was sitting not far off, his ears angled toward the elders' conversation.
As Firepaw stretched with his tongue to lick the last traces of mouse from his whiskers, Bluestar's voice called from the Highrock.
Redtail's body still lay in the clearing below, pale gray in the fading light.
Tonight he sits with his fellow warriors among the stars.
He couldn't help noticing the hunger in the big warrior's amber eyes as he stared at the Highrock.
But the dark warrior's face revealed nothing as he mewed congratulate Lionheart with a nudge so hearty that it almost pushed the game the book to true tabby off balance.
Since there must be no delay in training of our apprentices, I shall appoint Dustpaw's new mentor immediately.
Darkstripe, you are ready for your first apprentice, so you will continue Dustpaw's training.
You had a fine mentor in Tigerclaw, and I expect you to pass on some of your excellent skills you were warriors free online books />He strode over to Dustpaw, bent his head, and rather awkwardly touched noses with his new apprentice.
Dustpaw flicked his tail respectfully, but his eyes were still dull with grief for his lost mentor.
Bluestar raised her voice.
Many other cats joined her, Dustpaw and Smallear among them.
He had to admit the idea didn't appeal to him much.
It had been a busy day and he was beginning to feel tired.
All he wanted to do was was find somewhere warm and dry to curl up and sleep.
Graypaw shook his head.
I'll show you where we sleep.
The apprentices' den is over here.
Her coat was ginger, like Firepaw's, but much paler, with barely are best video game lore books have stripes of darker fur.
The young cat sniffed rudely.
Don't tell me I'm going to have to share my nest with that revolting stench!
Since his fight with Longtail, all the cats had been quite friendly.
Maybe they had just been distracted by Ravenpaw's news, he thought.
She's not usually this bad-tempered.
As my apprentice, I expected you to be a little more welcoming to this newcomer.
You should get some sleep.
As he walked off, she spun around and vanished into the clump of ferns, sniffing once more as she brushed past Firepaw.
With a flick of tail, Graypaw invited Firepaw to follow him, and led the way after Sandpaw.
Inside the sleeping area, the ground was lined with soft moss, and the pale moonlight turned everything a delicate shade of green.
The air was fragrant with the fern scent, and warmer than outside.
Graypaw and Firepaw exchanged glances, but said nothing.
Firepaw raked together a pile of moss with is claws.
When he gathered his bed into a cozy nest, he circled until it was comfortable and settled down.
His whole body felt drowsy with contentment.
This was his home now.
He was a member of ThunderClan.
He had been chasing a squirrel, up and up, into the topmost branches of a tall oak.
Firepaw stretched sleepily, then remembered: today was his first day of training.
He leaped to his paws.
His drowsiness evaporated as excitement surged through his veins.
Graypaw was giving himself a hasty wash.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw are on hunting duty.
So Lionheart thought you and I could train with him and Tigerclaw this morning.
As they climbed over the crest of the ravine, a cool breeze ruffled their fur.
Fat, white clouds raced across the blue sky overhead.
Firepaw felt fierce joy well up inside him as he followed Graypaw down a tree-shaded slope and into a sandy hollow.
Tigerclaw and Lionheart were indeed waiting, sitting a few tail-lengths apart on the sun-warmed sand.
Lionheart nodded to Graypaw and they took off with equal speed.
Firepaw scrambled after them, his paws slipping on the soft sand.
The trees were thick in this part of the forest, birch and ash trees overshadowed by mighty oaks.
The ground was carpeted with crisp dead leaves that rustled beneath their paws.
Tigerclaw paused to spray his scent on a thick clump of ferns.
The other cats stopped beside him.
Can you smell anything?
There was the faint scent of a Twoleg, free money websites in book the stronger smell of a dog, familiar to him from his old home.
The odors were weak and seemed warriors free online books with fresher forest smells.
Tigerclaw nodded, and the four cats stalked out from beneath the ferns and crossed the sharp stones of the narrow Twoleg path.
The trees beyond were pine.
They grew tall and straight, row after row.
It was easy to walk silently here.
There was no undergrowth here to hide in, and Firepaw sensed tension in the other cats as they stalked unprotected between the tree trunks.
Then they take the fallen trees to the Treecut place that lies near here.
The cats padded on through the pine forest.
Today, however, we will head the other way.
They quickly crossed over into the safe bushes of the oak woods beyond.
But Firepaw still sensed anxiety in the other cats.
Firepaw felt his fur stand on end.
This was where Redtail had been slain.
Lionheart stopped by a flat gray rock.
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.
It will be strongest at the boundary, because their warriors will have scent-marked the trees along here.
He set off quickly, away from the Sunningrocks, followed by Tigerclaw.
Graypaw and Firepaw trotted after them.
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 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 click the following article green crowns reaching almost to the top of the steep slope.
WindClan governs the high ground ahead of us, where the sun sets.
A shocked silence greeted his words.
Tigerclaw was the first to reply.
This will make you a stronger warrior one day.
The truce lasts for as long as the moon is at its fullest.
The Gatherings are very important because they allow the Clans to come together in peace for one night.
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.
Keep your wits about you, Firepaw.
Fresher scents mean that a ShadowClan patrol is in the area.
He stiffened, but the other cats kept up their pace, heading straight for the ominous rumbling.
Firepaw peered through the trees ahead.
They seemed to be getting thinner, letting in a broad band of sunlight.
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.
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.
The Thunderpath runs for many pawsteps along our boundary line.
An untrained apprentice would be easy prey for an adder, and I expect you are getting tired, Firepaw.
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.
game jungle book 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.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw were already there, munching hungrily.
Firepaw was hungry too, and crouched down to eat.
A loud call from Bluestar made Firepaw look up.
He watched several of the Clan warriors and elders gather in the clearing.
It was time for the Clan party to leave for the Gathering.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw leaped to their feet and trotted off to join the other cats.
Her fur glowed like silver in the moonlight, and she looked calm and confident as she led her Clan to the brief truce between old enemies.
All the apprentices get to go sometime.
When they had finished, Graypaw wandered over to Firepaw and began to groom his head.
Together they washed, sharing tongues as Firepaw had seen the other cats do when he first arrived.
Then, tired after the long trek, they pushed their way into their den.
They settled down in their nests and quickly fell asleep.
Written by Erin Hunter The following morning, Graypaw and Firepaw arrived early at the sandy hollow.
They had spooks books games out before Sandpaw and Dustpaw woke.
Firepaw had been eager to hear about the Gathering, but Graypaw had dragged him away.
It promised to be another warm day.
And this time Ravenpaw came to join them.
Thanks to Spottedleaf, his wound was healing well.
Graypaw played around, scooping leaves into the air and leaping after them.
Firepaw watched, his tail twitching with amusement.
Ravenpaw sat quietly at one side of the hollow, looking tense and unhappy.
He looked Ravenpaw straight in the eye.
Now, there is a big difference between creeping up on a rabbit and creeping up on a mouse.
Can any of you tell me why?
So what must you bear in mind when hunting mice?
Lionheart looked approvingly at him.
You must take all your weight into your haunches, so that your paws make no impact on the forest floor.
He felt himself fall instinctively into the right position, and as he stepped forward, as silently and lightly as he could, he felt a glow of pride that his muscles responded so smoothly.
Do you think dinner is going to come and lie down in your food dish and wait to be eaten?
He listened carefully to the warrior, determined to get everything right.
He cast a scornful look at the black cat.
He should be able to adapt.
Even you, Firepaw, have learned something this morning.
Imagine being shown up by a kittypet!
Firepaw felt his fur prickle with discomfort.
I shall just wander up to them and sit on them till they surrender.
This is no time for your jokes!
Graypaw, there might be something in that big bramble patch over there.
You may find something there.
With the blood pounding in his ears, Firepaw crept slowly up over the rise.
Sure enough, a streambed cut through the trees ahead of him.
In leaf-fall, he guessed it would carry the rainwater away from the forest and into the great river that cut through RiverClan territory.
Now it was dry.
Firepaw crept quietly down the bank and crouched on its sandy floor.
Every sense felt on fire warriors free online books tension.
Silently he scanned the empty stream for signs of life.
He watched for any tiny movement, his mouth open so he could pick up the smallest scent, his ears twisted forward.
Then he smelled mouse.
He recognized the odor instantly, remembering his first taste the night before.
Wild energy surged through him, but he remained motionless, trying desperately to pinpoint the prey.
He strained his ears forward until he picked up the rapid pulsing of a tiny mouse heart.
Then a flash of brown caught his eye.
The creature was scrambling through the long grass that draped the edges of the stream.
Firepaw shifted closer, remembering to keep his weight on his haunches until he was within striking distance.
Then he pushed back hard on his hindpaws and sprang, kicking up sand as he rose.
The mouse raced away.
But Firepaw was quicker.
He scooped it into the air with one paw, threw it onto the sandy streambed, and lunged on top of it.
He killed it quickly with one sharp bite.
Firepaw carefully lifted the warm body between his teeth and returned with his tail held high to the hollow where Tigerclaw and Lionheart waited.
He had made his first kill.
He was a true ThunderClan apprentice now.
All written by Erin Hunter!
I don't own any of this!!!
This is for people that can't access Warriors anyplace else.
Chapter 6 Early-morning sunlight streamed down onto the forest floor as Firepaw roamed in search of prey.
Two moons had passed since he had begun his training.
He felt at ease in this environment now.
His senses had been awoken and educated in the ways of the woods.
Firepaw paused to sniff the earth and the cold blind things that moved within it.
He caught the scent of a Twoleg that had wandered the forest recently.
Now that greenleaf was fully here, leaves were thick on the branches and tiny creatures were busy beneath the carpet of leaf mold.
Firepaw made a lean, strong shape as he moved silently through the trees, all his senses alert for the scent trail that would end in a swift kill.
Today he had been set his first solo task.
He was determined to do well, even if his task was only to bring back fresh-kill for the Clan.
He headed for the stream that he had crossed on that first trek through the ThunderClan hunting grounds.
It gurgled and spattered as it ran downhill over the smooth, round pebbles.
Firepaw paused briefly to lap at the cold, clear water, then lifted his head and tested the air again for any scent of prey.
The stench of a fox lay heavy in the air here.
The smell was stale, so the fox must have drunk here earlier in the day.
Firepaw recognized the odor; he had smelled it on his first visit to the forest.
He struggled to screen out the fox-stench and concentrate on prey-scent.
Suddenly his whiskers prickled as he homed in on the warm blood-beat of prey—a water vole busy about its nest.
A moment later he saw the vole.
The fat warriors free online books body was darting back and forth along the bank as it gathered grass stalks.
His last meal had been many hours ago, but he dared not hunt for himself until the Clan had been fed.
His orange belly fur brushed against the damp grass.
He crept closer, his eyes never leaving his prey.
Another moment and he would be near enough to spring….
Suddenly there was a loud rustle in the ferns behind him.
Firepaw felt the hackles rising along his spine.
Whatever had ruined his first good chance of catching prey would have to pay.
He sniffed the air.
A growl rose in his throat as he began doubling back in a wide circle.
He pricked up his ears and opened his eyes wide, seeking out any movement.
He heard the undergrowth rustle again.
It was louder now, off to one side.
He could see the ferns moving, but the fronds still hid the enemy from view.
A twig snapped with a sharp cracking noise.
He leaped for the trunk of an ash and climbed swiftly and silently up to an overhanging branch.
Below him the invisible warrior came closer, and closer still.
Firepaw held his breath, judging his moment as the ferns were pushed aside and a large grayish shape emerged.
Claws unsheathed, he launched himself at the enemy and landed squarely on a set of furry, muscular shoulders.
He dug in hard, gripping with thorn-sharp claws, ready to deal out a powerful warning bite.
He rolled over and over in an attempt warriors free online books dislodge his attacker.
Rolling away, he sprang to his feet and gave himself a shake, which rippled all the way along his body to the end of his tail.
He winced and shook himself.
You still stalk like a lopsided badger!
He flattened his ears playfully.
Graypaw gave a hiss of delight.
He managed to get in a couple of paw strikes before Graypaw overpowered him and held him down.
Firepaw let his body go limp.
As he did so, Firepaw sprang to his feet, firing Graypaw off his back and into the undergrowth.
Firepaw leaped after him and pinned him to the ground.
He jumped nimbly off Graypaw and began to squirm around in the leaf litter, enjoying his easy victory and the warmth of the earth against his back.
Graypaw seemed unbothered by his second defeat of the morning.
It was too fine a day for bad temper.
I was about to catch a vole when your noisy trampling frightened it off.
Firepaw looked at his crestfallen friend.
I thought you had to give them a message from Bluestar.
I was going to do a little hunting first.
Seems that some ShadowClan cats have been prowling around.
Bluestar wants to check things out.
But you still have to catch them.
He would probably have to make three or four hunting trips before he had caught enough prey.
Silverpelt would be in the sky before he got a chance to eat.
Graypaw stroked his whiskers.
I owe you that, at least.
We should be able to catch speaking, slot booking meaning in telugu simply couple of voles before I have to get going.
The fox-stench was still in the air, but suddenly it smelled stronger.
Graypaw stopped and sniffed the air too.
Yeah, I smelled it earlier.
Graypaw sniffed again, opening his mouth slightly.
He swiveled his head to look across the stream at the bushes in the woods beyond.
He saw something red and thick-haired moving among the bushes.
It stepped into a clearing in the undergrowth and Firepaw saw a low body, glinting red in the dappled sunlight.
Its tail was heavily furred and it had a long, narrow snout.
Looks like a dog, behaves like a cat.
We must warn the queens that one has strayed into our territory.
Foxes are as bad as badgers when it comes to killing young kits.
Anyway, Bluestar will probably send a warrior patrol to scare it off.
How do you think old Halftail earned his name?
A cat needs his tail if he wants to land on his feet.
It helps him spin in midair.
As Firepaw had predicted, hunting was good that day.
Before long, Graypaw had pounced on a small mouse and Firepaw had caught a thrush.
He quickly took its life.
No time to practice killing techniques today; there were too many hungry mouths waiting back at camp.
Firepaw kicked earth over the prey, so that click would be safe from predators until he came back for it.
Suddenly a squirrel broke cover.
Firepaw burst into action.
They slid to a halt as the squirrel scampered upward into a birch.
Panting, the two cats stopped to catch their breath.
The acrid stench that hit their mouths and noses surprised them.
It was the first time they had been here alone.
A trail of noisy creatures growled along the hard surface, their dead eyes staring straight ahead.
The choking smells made his throat sting.
Written by Erin Hunter Graypaw shook his head.
Firepaw took a step out of the cover of the forest.
A border of oily grass lay between the trees and the Thunderpath.
He crept slowly out onto it, and then shrank back as a stinking monster hurtled past.
Where are you going?
He waited till there were no monsters in sight.
Then he edged forward again, across the grass, right to the edge of the path.
Cautiously, he reached out a paw to touch it.
It felt warm, almost sticky, heated by the sun.
He looked up, staring across the Thunderpath.
Was that a pair of eyes glinting out of the forest on the other side?
He sniffed the air, but smelled nothing except the stench of the great gray path.
The eyes on the other side were still shining in the shadows.
Then they blinked, slowly.
Firepaw was sure now.
It was a ShadowClan warrior, and it was staring straight at him.
The wind from it almost toppled him over.
Firepaw turned and ran as fast as he could back into the safety of the forest.
His whiskers trembled with fear and anger.
His whiskers were trembling too.
Once they were a safe distance from the Thunderpath, Graypaw stopped to catch his breath.
Firepaw sat down and began to lick his ruffled fur.
He envied Graypaw, wishing he were off to join a warrior patrol.
Today he had seen his first ShadowClan warrior.
Chapter 7 Firepaw retraced his steps and headed back toward the stream.
He thought of those eyes burning from the darkness of the ShadowClan territory.
Suddenly he caught a faint smell on the breeze.
The scent message told him many things.
The stranger was a just click for source, not young and definitely not from ThunderClan.
She carried no distinct scent from any of the Clans, but Firepaw could tell she was tired, hungry, and sick, and she was in an ugly mood.
Dropping low, Firepaw moved forward, heading toward the scent.
Then he paused in puzzlement.
The warrior scent was fainter now.
Suddenly, with a lightning movement, a snarling ball of fur burst from the bushes behind him.
Firepaw screeched in shock as the she-cat slammed into him, knocking him sideways.
Two heavy paws clamped down onto his shoulders, and iron jaws closed around the back of his neck.
If the other cat were to sink its fangs too deep, it would all be over.
He forced himself to go limp, relaxing his muscles as if in submission, and let out a pretend howl of alarm.
The she-cat opened her mouth to give a triumphant yowl.
At the insult, Firepaw felt a surge of fury.
But not yet, he told himself.
Wait until you feel her teeth again.
Firepaw surged upward with all the strength in his powerful young body.
The she-cat gave a snarl of surprise as she was thrown clear.
She tumbled table games poker books best into a gorse bush.
The she-cat had a broad, almost flat face, and round orange eyes.
Her dark gray fur was long and matted into smelly clumps.
Her ears were torn and ragged, and her muzzle was traced with the scars of many old battles.
Firepaw stood his ground.
Then I will leave.
There was no trace of the house cat in him now.
His warrior blood was up.
He was itching to fight, to defend his territory and protect his Clan.
Yellowfang seemed to sense the change in him.
Her fierce orange eyes sparked with new respect.
Dipping her head and breaking eye contact, she started to back off.
Snarling and spitting, young cat and old locked together.
They rolled over and over, teeth and claws flashing.
Ears pressed flat to his head, Firepaw fought to get a grip.
Then Yellowfang reared up on her back legs.
With her filthy tail bristling, she looked even bigger.
He leaned backward, just in time.
Bared teeth closed on the air next to his ear.
Instinctively Firepaw lashed out with a backswipe.
The force of visit web page sent shock waves up his front leg.
She shook her head to clear it.
In the single heartbeat before the she-cat recovered, Firepaw saw his chance.
Yellowfang crouched, ready for a fresh attack.
Her breath seemed to wheeze up from her foul-smelling lungs.
The bigger cat tried to reach up onto his shoulders and get a killing grip, but this time she was hampered by her wounded leg.
Firepaw tasted earth on his tongue and spat out a mouthful of grit.
Over and over they rolled, biting and snapping.
Moments later they broke apart.
Firepaw was gasping for breath now.
But he sensed that Yellowfang was weakening.
The she-cat was badly wounded, and her back legs could barely support her scrawny body.
But her injured leg gave way and she slumped to the ground.
She tried to get up and failed.
Perhaps, in the heat of battle, he would, but a mercy killing, in cold blood?
This was something very different.
Could she smell the scent of Twolegs on him, even now, after all this time?
Yellowfang narrowed her eyes.
Act like a warrior and finish me off.
He would not be goaded into killing this miserable creature.
He felt his muscles relax as curiosity pricked him.
How had a Clan cat gotten in such a state?
ThunderClan elders were looked after better than kits!
Are you trying to talk me to death?
And since she could hardly hunt for herself, perhaps he should kill her now.
The two cats looked at each other, uncertainty in both their gazes.
Yellowfang seemed to deflate.
Her hackles smoothed out and her tail lost its gorse-bush stiffness.
She flopped down and began licking her leg wound.
Firepaw glanced briefly over his shoulder at her and hissed quietly in exasperation before heading for the trees.
As he padded silently through the ferns, sun-warmed odors filled his nose, and he caught the sour reek of a long-dead rat.
He heard the scratching of insects beneath bark, the rustle of furry things scurrying over leaves.
His first thought had been to go and dig up the thrush he had killed earlier, but that would take too long.
Written by: Erin Hunter I don't own any of this!!!
Easy meat, but a starving cat needed fresh-kill.
Only when times were very hard would a warrior eat crow food.
Just then he paused, scenting a young rabbit ahead.
A few more steps and he saw it.
Flattening himself down, he stalked the creature.
He was barely a mouse-length away before it detected him.
By then it was too late.
A rush of speed, a flash of claws, and he had it.
He held the wriggling body fast and finished it off quickly.
Yellowfang looked up tiredly as Firepaw dropped the rabbit on the ground beside her.
Her grizzled jaw dropped.
Well, I might still do that.
He felt embarrassed by his kindness.
His own hunger rose up and his mouth filled with water.
He still had to take back enough prey for the Clan, but the fresh-kill smelled delicious.
As if one wash is going to make much difference, Firepaw thought, his nose twitching.
She was the arch-cat of stench.
He eyed the tattered remnants of the prey.
He licked his lips, savoring every last taste, tingling from head to paw.
Yellowfang watched him closely, showing her stained teeth.
Knowing she had found his sore spot, she was trying to antagonize him.
Firepaw ignored her and began to wash.
He could hear their soft paw-fall on the leaf litter and the sound of fur swishing through branches.
He smelled the wind brushing against their coats.
These were ThunderClan warriors, confident enough in their own territory not to care about the noise they made.
Then he looked at Yellowfang and the fresh pile of rabbit bones that lay beside her.
But surely he would understand why Firepaw had fed this wretched creature.
His mind reeled, suddenly fearful of what would happen to him.
His first apprentice task, and he had ended up breaking the warrior code!
Chapter 8 Yellowfang growled in defiance at the approaching pawsteps, but Firepaw could sense her panic.
The she-cat struggled to her feet.
Thanks for the meal.
Silent shadows slipped out of the trees, and in a heartbeat the ThunderClan patrol had encircled Firepaw and Yellowfang.
Firepaw recognized them: Tigerclaw, Darkstripe, Willowpelt, and Bluestar, all of them lean and hard-muscled.
Graypaw followed close behind.
He bounded out of the bushes and stood beside the warrior patrol.
Firepaw mewed a hasty greeting to his Clan.
But only Graypaw returned it.
Firepaw glanced at Yellowfang and groaned inwardly; he could still smell the fear-scent on her, but instead of cowering in submission, the scruffy creature was glaring in defiance.
An enemy warrior—and recently fed, by the smell of you both.
Was your hunger so bad that you had to feed yourself before you had gathered prey for your Clan?
Bluestar was furious—and rightly so.
He crouched lower to the ground.
Before he could speak there was a loud hiss from Tigerclaw.
Suddenly she looked surprised.
It seems you have captured us a ShadowClan cat.

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The drenched RiverClan warriors bounded silently up teh shore and hurled themselves into battle withut even stopping to shake the water from there fur. The dark tabby glared down at Oakheart. "You may swim like otters, but you and your warriors do not belong in this forest!"


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Allegiances Thunderclan Leader - Bluestar- blue-gray she-cat, tinged with silver around her muzzle Deputy - Redtail- small tortoiseshell tom with a distinctive ginger tail Apprentice, Dustpaw Medicine Cat - Spottedleaf- beautiful warriors free online books tortoiseshell she-cat with a distinctive dappled coat.
Warriors toms, and she-cats without kits - Lionheart: magnificent golden tabby tom with thick fur like a lion's mane.
Apprentice,Graypaw - Tigerclaw: big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws.
Apprentice, Ravenpaw - Whitestorm: big white tom Apprentice, Sandpaw - Darkstripe: sleek black-and-gray tabby tom - Longtail: pale tabby tom with dark black stripes - Runningwind: swift tabby tom - Willowpelt: very pale gary she-cat with unusual blue eyes.
The oldest tom in Thunderclan - Patchpelt: small balck-and-white tom - One-Eye: pale gray she-cat, the oldest cat in Thunderclan.
Virtually blind and deaf.
Medicine Cat - Runningnose: small gray-and-white tom Warriors Stumpytail- brown tabby tom Apprentice, Brownpaw Boulder-silver tabby tom Apprentices, Wetpaw Clawface- battle-scarred brown tom Apprentices, Littlepaw Nightpelt-black tom Queens Dawncloud-small tabby Brightflower-black-and-white she-cat Elders Asfur-thin gray tom Riverclan Leader Crookedstar- a huge light-colored tabby with a twisted jaw Deputy Oakhaert- a reddish brown tom Cats Outside Clans Yellowfang - old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flattened face.
Smudge- Plump, friendly blak-and-white kitten who lives in a house on the edge of the forest.
Barley- black-and-white tom who lives on a farm close to the forest Writtened by Erin Hunter Prologue A half-moon glowed on smooth granite boulders,turning them silver.
The silence was broken only by the ripple of water from the swift black river and the whisper of trees in the forest beyond.
There was a stirring in the shadows, and from all around, lithe dark shapes crept steathly over the rocks.
Unsheathed claws glinted in the moonlight.
Wary eyes flashed like amber.
And then, as if on a silent signal, the creatures leaped at each other, and suddenly the rocks were alive with wrestling, screeching cats.
At the center of the frenzy of fur and claws, a massive dark tabby pinned a bracken-colored tom to the ground and drew up his head triumphantly.
The Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!
A warning yowl came from the shore, shrill and anxious.
More RiverClan warriors are coming!
The drenched RiverClan warriors bounded silently up teh shore and hurled themselves into battle withut even stopping to shake the water from there fur.
The dark tabby glared down at Oakheart.
The despreate scream of a Thunderclan she-cat rose above the clamor.
A wiry Riverclan tom had pinned the brown warrior flat on her belly.
Now he kunged toward her neck with kaws still dripping form his swim across the river.
Tigerclaw heard the cry and let go of Oakheart.
With a mighty leap, he knocked the enemy warrior away from the she-cat.
Mousefur scrambled to her paws, wincing form a deep gash on her shoulder.
Behind her, Tigerclaw spat with rage ad the RiverCan tom sliced open his nose.
Blood blinded him for an instant, but he lunged forward regardless and sank his teeth into the hind leg of his enemy.
The RiverClan cat squealed and struggled to get free.
There are too many RiverClan warriors!
Thunderclan will never be beaten!
We will have anotherchance to avenge this defeat.
At once his warriors squirmed and struggled away from their opponets.
Spitting and snarling,they backed toward Redtail.
For a heartbeat, theRiverclan cats looked confused.
Was this battle so easily won?
Than Oakhaert yowled a jubliant cry.
As soon as they heard him, the RiverClanwarriors raised their voices and joined their deputy in caterwauling their victory.
Redtail looked down at his warriors.
With a flick of his tail, he gave the signal and the Thinderclan cats dived down the far side of the Sunningrocks, then disappered into the trees.
Hehesitated at the edge oftheforestand glanced back at the bloodstained battlefield.
His face was grim, his eyes furios slits.
Then he leaped after his Clan into the silent forest.
In a deserted clearing, and old gray she-cat sat alone, staring up at the clear night sky.
All around her in theshadows she could hear the breathing and stirrings of sleeping cats.
A small tortoiseshell she-cat emerged from a dark corner, her pawsteps quik and soundless.
The gray cat dippedher head in gretting.
You are a gifted medicine cat, Spottedleaf.
Thunderclan has not been beaten in its own territory since i became leader,: she murmured"These are difficult times for our clan.
The season of nweleaf is late.
Thunderclan needs more warriors if it is to survive.
But training our young to become warriors takes time.
If Thunderclan is to defend its territory, it must have new warriors as soon as possible.
Has StarClan spoken to you?
Spottedleaf's tail twitched and the fur along her spine bristled.
Bluestar's ears pricked but she remained silent as Spottedleaf continued to gaze upward.
After a few moments, Spottedleaf lowered her head and turned to Bluestar.
A distant look came into her eyes.
How can it save us?
Spottedleaf shook her head.
Fire will save our clan.
Rusty could sense something was near.
The young tomcats's eyes opened wide as he scanned the dense undergrowth.
This place was unfamilar, but the strage scents drew him onward, deeper into the shadows.
His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger.
He opened his jaws slightly to let the warm mells of the forest reach the scent glads on the roof of fim mouth.
Musty ordors of leaf mold mingled with the temoting aroma of a small furry creature.
Suddenly a flash of gray raced past him.
Rusty stopped still, listening.
It was hiding in the leaves less than two tail-lenghts away.
Rusty knew it was a mouse-- he could feel the rapid pulsing of a tiny hearty deep within his ear fur.
He swallowed, stifling his rumbling somach.
Soon his hunger would be satisfied.
Slowly he lowered his body into postintion, crouching for the attack.
He was downwind of teh mouse.
He knew it was not aware of him.
Withone final; check on his prey's position, Rusty pushed back hard on his haunches and sprangkicking up leaves in the forest floor as he rose.
The mouse dived for cover, heading toward a hole in the ground.
But Rusty was already on top of it.
He scooped it into the air, hooking the helpless creature with his thorn-sharp claws, flinging it up in a high arc onto the leaf-covered ground.
The mouse landed dazed, machine games book of ra alive.
It tried to run, but Rusty snatched it up again.
He tossed the mouse once more, this time a little farther away.
The mouse managed to scramble a few paces before Rusty caught up with it.
Suddenly a noise roared nearby.
Rusty looked around, and as he did so the mouse was able to pull away from his claws.
When Rusty turned back he saw it dart into the darlness among the tangled roots of a tree.
Angry, Rusty gave up the hunt.
He spun around, his green eyes glaring, intent on searching out the noise that had cost him his kill.
The sound rattled on, becoming more familiar.
Rusty blinked open his eyes.
The forest had disappreared.
He was inside a hot and sirles kitchen, curled in his bed.
Moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows on the smooth, hard floor.
The noise had been the rattle of hard, dried pellets of food as they were tipped into his dish.
Rusty had been dreaming.
Lifting his head, he rested his chin on the side of his bed.
His collar rubbed uncomfortably around his neck.
In his dream he had felt fresh air ruffling the soft fur where the collar usually pinched.
Rusty rolled onto his back, savoring the dream for a few more moments.
He could still smell mouse.
It was the third tom since full moon that he'd had the dream, and every time the mouse had escaped his grasp.
He licked his lips.
From his bed he could smell the bland odor of his food.
His owners always refilled his dish before they went to bed.
The dusty smell chased away the warm scents of his dream.
But the hunger rumbled on in his stomach, so Rusty stretched the sleep out of his limbs and padded across teh kitchen floor to his dinner.
The food felt dry and tasteless on his tongue.
Rusty reluctantly swallower one more mouthful.
Then he turned away from the fooddish and pushed his way out throught the cat flap, the hoping that the smell of the garden would bring back the fellings from his dream.
Outside, the moon was bright.
Rusty stalked down the tidy garden, following the starlit gravel path, felling the stoned cold and sharp beneath his paws.
He made his dirt beneath a large bush with glossy green leaves and heavy purple flowers.
Their sickly sweet scent cloyed the damp air around him, and he curled his lip to drive the smell out of his nostrils.
Afterward, Rusty settled down on top of one of the posts in the fence that marked the limits of his graden.
Itt was a favorite sopt of his, as he could see rigt into the neighbooring gardens as well as into the dense green forest on the other side of the garden fence.
The rain had stoppd.
Behind him, the close-cropped lawn was bathed in moonlight, but beyond his fence the woods were full of shadows.
Rusty stretched his head forward to take a sniff of the damp air.
His skin was warm and dry inder his thick coat, but he could fell the weight of the rain drops taht sparled on his ginger fur.
He heard his owners giving him one last call from the back door.
If he went to them now, they would grett him with gentle words and caresses and welcome him onto thier bed, where he would curl, purring, warm in the crook of a bent knee.
But this time Rusty ignored his owners.
Suddenly the fur on his spine prickled.
Was something moving out there?
Was something watching him?
Rusty stared ahead, but it was impossible to see or smell anything in the dark, tree-scented air.
He lifed his chin boldly, stood up, and stretched, onepaw gripping each corner of the fencepost as he straightened his legs and arched his back.
He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of the woods once more.
It seemed to promise him something tempting him onward into the whisperin shadow.
Tensing him muscles, he crouched for a moment.
Then he leaped lightly down into the rough grass on the other side of the garden fence.
As he landed, the bell on his collar rang out through the still night hair.
A young black-and-white cat was balancing ungracefully on the fence.
All he wants to do is eat and sleep.
He caught a robin there!
Now he complains about birds because they disturb his dozing.
Huge wildcats who eat live rabbit for breakfast and sharpen sorry, palms casino booking com amusing claws on old bones!
The black-and-white cat turned and plunged off the fence bak down into his own garden.
Rusty sat down in the coarse grass beyond the arden fence.
He gave his shoulder a nervous lick and wondered how much of Smudge's gossip was true.
Suddenly the movemen of a tiny creature caught his eye.
He wathed it scuttle under some bramblems.
Instinct made him drop into a low crouch.
With one slow paw after another he drew his body froward through the undergrowth.
Ears pricked, nostrils flared, eyes unvlinking, he meowed toward the animal.
He could see it cleary now, sitting up among the barbed branches, nibbling on a large seed held between it's paws.
It was a mouse.
Rusty rocked his haunches from side to side, reparing to leap.
He held his breath in case his bell rang again.
Thsi was even better taht his dreams!
Then a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves made him jump.
His bell jangled treacherously, and the mouse darted away into the thickest tangle of the bramble bush.
Rusty stood very still and looked around.
He could see the white tip of a red bushy tail trailing through a clump of tall ferns up ahead.
He smelled a string, stranges scent, definitely a meat-eater, but niether cat nor dog.
Distracted, Rusty forgot about the mouse and watched the red tail curiously.
He wanted a better look.
All of Rusty's senses strained ahead as he prowled forward.
Then he detected another noise.
It came from behind, but sounded muted and distant.
He swiveled his ears backward to hear it better.
It was only when the faint rustling behind him became a loud and fast-approuching leaf-crackle that Rusty realized he was in danger.
Twisting and yowling, he tried to throw off the attacker that had fastened itself to his back.
It was gripping him with incredibly sharp claws.
Rusty could feel spiked teeth pricking at his neck.
He writhed and squrimed from whisker to tail, but he couldn'y free himself.
For a second he felt helpless; then he froze.
Thinking fasthe filpped over onto his back.
He knew instinctively how dangerous it was to expose his soft belly.
He heard a "hhuuffff" beneath him as the breath was knocked out of his attacker.
Thrashing fiercely, Rusty managed to wriggle free.
Without looking back he sprinted toward his home.
Behind him, a rush of pawsteps told Rusty his attacker was giving a chase.
Even through the pain from his scratches stung beneah his fur.
Rusty decied he would rather turn and fight than let himself be jumped on again.
He skidded to a stop, spun around, and faced his pursuer.
It was another kitten, with a thick coat of shaggy gray fur, strong legs, and a broasd face.
In a heartbeat, Rusty smelledthat it was a tom, and sensed the power in the sturdy shoulders underneath the soft coat.
The the kitten crashed into rusty at full pelt.
Taken by surprise by Rusty's turn about, it felt back into a dazed heap.
The impact knocked the breath out of Rusty, and he staggered.
He quickly found his footing and arched his back, puffing out his orange fur, ready to spring onto the other kitten.
But his attacker simply sat up and began to lick a forepaw, all signs of aggression gone.
Rusty felt strangely diappointed.
Every part of him was tense, ready for battle.
Then he remembered the streght he had felt in this kitten's paws when he had pinned him to the ground.
He dropped onto his pads, loosened his muscles, andlet his spine unbend.
He hid his confusion by leaning down to lick his ruffled chest.
Don't you know it's dangerous?
Graypaw looked up at him for a moment, narrowing his big yellow eyes "Oh, I'm far from the most dangerous If I were even half a warrior, I'd have given an intruder like you some real wounds to think about.
What did this cat mean by "intruder"?
You're obviously not from one of the other Clans.
Graypaw let out an impatient hiss.
I belong to ThunderClan.
The other Clans are always trying to steal pray from our territory, especially ShadowClan.
They're so Fierce they would have ripped you to shreds, no questions asked.
It's the job of the Thunderclan warriors to keep them out of out territory.
When I've finished my training, I'll be so dangerous, I'll have the other Clans shaking in their flea-bitten skins.
They won't dare come near us then!
This must be one of the wildcats Smudge had warned him about!
Living rough in the woods, hunting and fighting each other for every last scrap of food.
Yet Rusty didn't feel scared.
In fact, it was hard not to admire this confident kitten.
Did you think I was?
I have to go through the training first.
Kits have to be six moons old before the even being training.
Tonight is my first night out as an apprentice.
Your life would be so much easier," Rusty meowed.
All you have to do is sit where they can see you and look hungry for a couple of days--" "And they'd feed me pellets that look like rabbit droppings and soft slop!
I can't think of anything worse warriors free online books being a kittypet!
They're nothing but Twoleg toys!
Eating stuff that doesn't look like food, making dirt in a box of gravel, sticking their noses outside only when the Twolegs allow them?
Out here it's wild, and it's free.
We come and go as we please.
Have you ever tasted mouse?
It makes a big difference.
You need to be born with warrior blood in your veins, or the feel of the wind in your whiskers.
Kitties click the following article into Twoleg nest could never feel the same way.
Graypaw did not reply.
He suddenly sniffed midlick, one paw still raised, and sniffed the air.
The won't be pleased to find you hunting in out territory!
He couldn't smell anything different on the leaf-scented breeze.
But his fur stood on end at the note of urgency in Graypaw's voice.
He was too late.
A voice meowed behind him, firm and menacing.
White hairs streaked her muzzle, and an ugly scar parted the fur across her shoulders, but her smooth gray coat shone like silver in the moonlight.
He crouched even lower when a second cat--A handsome, golden tabby--followed the gray cat into the clearing.
Rusty copied Graypaw and crouched low to the forest floor, his ears twitching nervously.
These cats had an air of strength he had never seen in any of his garden friends.
Maybe what Smudge had warned him about was true.
Her piercing blue eyes made him feel even more vunerable.
The words inflamed Tusty, but he held his tongue.
The warning look in Bluestar's stare told him that she had observed the anger in his eyes, and he looked away.
He's my mentor, which means he's training me to be a warrior.
Bluestar was still staring at Rusty.
Rusty and Graypaw exchanged confused glances.
How could she know?
You attacked him bravely.
Graypaw is stronger then you, but you used your wits to defent yourself.
And you turned to face him when he chased you.
I'ce not seen a kittypet do that before.
Her next words surprised him even more.
We patrol this border frequently, so I have often seen you sitting on your boundary, staring out into the forest.
And now, at last, you have dared to place your paws here.
You would have caught that mouse if you had not heisted so long.
His deep meow was respectful but insistent.
He should not be hunting in ThunderClan territory.
Send him home to his Twolegs!
Bluestar's words had made him glow with pride.
She had noticed him; she had been impressed by him.
Now her gaze snapped back to Rusty.
Her blue eyes were blazing with anger.
Lionheart stepped to his leader's side.
telangana booking online transport slot warriors loomed over him now.
Rusty looked into Bluestar's threatening stare and his pride dissolved.
These were not cozy fireside cats he was dealing with--They were mean, hungry cat who were probably going to finish what Graypaw had started.
Chapter 2 I do not Own the Warrior's Series, Erin Hunter does.
In no way will I try to sell this or use this at my own.
This is for fun and for people who can't get the books from other places.
Lionheart remained silent as he towered https://gsdonline.ru/book/slot-games-free-play-book-of-ra.html Rusty.
He flattened his ears and crouched under teh golden warrior's cold stare.
His fur prickled uncomfortably.
You come here onlt to hunt for sport.
But we hunt to survive.
He stopped trembling, sat up, and straightened his ears.
He raised his eyes to meet hers.
He heard the approval in Bluestar's voice and noticed as she swapped a meaningful glance with Lionheart.
The look made him curious.
Queitly he asked, "Is survival here really so hard?
And this year, late newleaf means prey is scarce.
Bluestar's guarded answers were just making him more and more curious.
Some are too young or too old busy caring for kits to hunt.
Bluestar looked again at Lionheart.
The golden tabby stared back at her steadily.
At last she returned her gaze to Rusty and meowed, "Perhaps you shoudl find out these things for yourself.
Would you like to join Thunderclan?
Bluestar went on: " If you did, you would train with Graypaw to become a warriors.
There is no guarantee you would become a ful warrior.
It might prove too difficult fo you.
After all, you are used to a comfortable life.
He swun his head around to face teh golden tabby.
The fact is, Thunderclan needs more warriors.
You must eitherlive with us and respect our ways, or return to you Twolegplace and never come back.
You cannot live with a paw in each world.
Surely his encounter with these cats had proved to him just how easy and luxurious his life was.
Not quiet so keen to fight a clan cat, I suspect!
Was that what Bluestar meant by the Cutter?
The clan will demand great loyalty and hard work.
You wil be expected to protect the clan with your life if necessary.
And there are many mouths to feed.
But the rewards are great.
You will remain a tom.
You will be trained in the ways of the wild.
You will learn what it is to be a real cat.
The strength and the fellowship of the clan will always be with you, even when you hunt alone.
Bluestar semed to be offering him the life he had lived so many times, and so tantalizinly, in his dreams, but could he live like taht for real?
Lionheart interrupted his thoughts.
We must be ready to join the other patrol at moonhigh.
Tigerclaw will wonder what has become of us.
He stared -- excited, uncertain--up past the ferns that encircled him, through the canopy of leaves, to the stars that glittered in teh clear sky.
The scent of the clan cats still hung heavy in the evening air.
And as Rusty turned and headed for home, he felt a strange sensation inside him, tugging him back into he depths of the forest.
His fur pirckled delicously in the light wind, and the rustling leaves seemed to whisper his name into the shadows.
Writtened by:Erin Hunter Chapter 3 That Morning, as Rusty slept off his night's wandering the mouse dream came again, even more vivid than before.
Free of his colar, beneath the moon, he stalked the timid creature.
But this time he was aware of being wached.
Shining from the shadows of the forest he saw dozens of yellow eyes.
The clan cats had entered his dream worlds.
Rusty woke, blinking in the bright sunshine hat was streaming across the kitchen floor.
His fur felt heavy and thick with warmth.
His food free game jungle had been topped up, and his water bowl rinsed out and filled with bitter-tasting Twoleg water.
Rusty perferred drinking frm puddles outside, but when it was hot, or he was very thirsty, he had to admit it was easie to lap up the water indoors.
Could he really abandon this comfortable life?
He ate, then pushed his way out of he cat flap into the garden.
The day promised to be warm, and the harden was heavy wih the smell of early blossoms.
The baby sparrows were out streching their wings.
Smudge yawned and licked his nose.
I'd already eaten enough at home.
Anyway why weren't you out earlier?
Yesterday you were complaining about Henry sleeping his time away, and today you're not much better yourself.
At once he felt the blod stir in his veins and his fur stiifen.
Smudge loked down at him, his eyes wide.
Did you catch anything?
Or did anything catch you?
Bigger stronger than any of us.
Smudge interrupted, his tail twitching with excitment.
His blac-andwhite friends had never shown any intrest in venturing into the woods.
He was perfectly contenty living with his house folk.
He would never understand the restless longing that Rusty's dreams stirred in hom noght after night.
Im going to join them.
Sorry i haven't posted.
Smudge scrambled down from the fence and stood in front of Rusty.
Ï"might never see you again.
My housefolk will get another cat.
You'll get onwith him fine.
YOU get along with everyone!
Rusty twitched his tail impatiently.
click I stay around here till they take me to the cutter, I won't be the same either.
We could still have fun.
I'll miss you, but I hae to go.
I can see I can't stop you, but at least lets spend one more morning together.
Every one of senses felt supercharged, as if he were poised before a huge jump.
As sunhigh approached, Rusty grew more and more impatient to see if Lionheart would really be waiting for him.
The idle buzz of meows from his old friends seemed to fade into the background as all his senses strained toward the woods.
Rusty jumped down from his garden fence for the last time and crept into the woods.
He had said his good-byes to Smudge.
Now all histhoughts were focused on the forestand teh cats who lived in it.
As he approched the spot where he had met with the clan cats the night before, he sat down ans tasted the air.
Tall trees shielded the ground from the midday sunshine.
Here and there a patch of sunlight shone through a gap in the eaves and lit up the forest floor.
Rusty could smell the same cat-scent as last night, but he had no idea whether it was old or new.
He lifted his head and sniffed uncertainly, "You have a lot o learn.
Ëven a the tiniest clan kit knows when another cat is nerby.
Now he recognized teh scent it was Lionheart.
Hastily, Rusty sniffed again.
The scents of Bluestar and Graypaw were still there, but not as strong as teh previos night.
Hesitantly, he mewed"Bluestar and GRaypaw aren't with you this time.
Öne of Thunderclans's senior warriors.
Whitestorm stood in front of rusty an gaxed down on him.
His white coat was thick and unmarked and his eyes were yellow of sunbaked sand.
Rusty flattened his ears warily, and tensed his muscles in preparation for a fight.
Written by Erin hunter "Relax, before your fear-scent assured casino igre book of ra 2 seems unwanted attention," growled Lionheart.
Rusty jumped to his paws and followed as quickly as he could.
The two warriors made no allowences fro Rusty as they sped through the forest, and before long he was struggling to keep up.
Their pace barely slowed as they led him over fallen trees that they cleared in a single leap, but which Rusty had to scramble over paw by paw.
Thay passed through sharply fragrant pine trees, where they had to jump across depp gullies chrunesd up by a Twoleg tree-eater.
From the safety of his garden fence, Rusty had often heard it roaring and snarling in the distance.
One gully was too wide to jump, half filled with slimy, foul-smelling wwater.
The Clan cats waded through without hesitating.
Rusty had never put a paw in water before.
But he was determined not to show any sings of weekness, so he narrowed his eyes and followed, trying to ignore the uncomfortable wetness that soaked his belly fur.
At last Lionheart and Whitestorm paused.
Rusty skidded to a halt behind them andstood panting while the two warriors stepped onto a rock taht rested on the edge of a small ravine.
You must be able t scent it," hissed Whitestorm impatiently.
Rusty closed his eyes and sniffed.
The scents here were very diffrent from the cat-scent he was uds to.
The air smelled stronger, speaking of many, many diffrent cats.
He nodded thoughtfully and announced, "I can smell cats.
Rusty followed, and Whitestorm took up the rear.
As his sides scraped against the prickly gorse, Rusty flattened into a broad, strong-smelling track.
This must be the main entrance into the camp, he thought.
Rusty looked around, his eyes wide.
There were cats everywhere, sitting alone or in groups, sharing food or purring quietly at the groomed one another.
It is a custome that binds the members of teh Clan together.
Suddenly shy of metting any cat;s gaze directly, Rusty looked around the clearing.
It was edged with thick continue reading, dotted with treestumps and a fallen tree.
A thick curtain of ferns and gorse shielded the camp from the rest of the woods.
He couldn't see through the knot of prickly branhes, but he could hear the mewling of severalkittens from somewhere inside.
As he watched, a ginger she-cat squirmed out through a small gap in the front.
That must be one of the queens, Rusty thought.
A tabby queen with distinctive black markings appeared around the bramblebush.
The two she-cats exchanged a friendly lick between the ears before the tabby slipped inside the nursery, murmuring to the squealing kits.
Loyalty to teh clan is teh forst law in our warrior code, a lesson you must learn quickly if you wish to stay with us.
Rusty niffed the air too, and was pleased that he was ableto recognize the scent of the gray she-cat a moment before she appeared from the shadow of a large boulder that lay beside them at the head of the clearing.
Whitestorm replied, "Lionheart was convinced he would not.
Both cats nodded "Than I shall announce his arrival to the Clan.
Rusty stayed where he was, flanked by Lionhear and Whitestorm.
The other cats settled themselves below the Highrock and looked expectantly up at their leader.
Rusty felt a rush of relief as he recognized Graypaw's thick gray fur among the cats.
Beside his sat a young tortoiseshell queen, her black-topped tail tucked neatly over small white paws.
A large dark gray tabby crouched behind them, the black stripes on his fur lookig like shadows on a moonlit forest floor.
When the cats were still.
Bluestar spoke, "Thunderclan needs more warriors,"she began.
It has been decided that Thunderclan wll take in an outsider to train as a warrior.
Rusty craned his neck and saw a pale tabby cat standing up and glaring defiantly at the leader.
Bluestar ignored the tabby and addressed all of her Clan.
HIs fur prickled and he swallowed nervously.
There was silence for a moment.
Rusty was sure they must all be able to hear his heart pulsing and smell his fear-scent.
Now a deafening crescend of caterwauling rose from the crowd.
That's not the scent of any clan I know!
Önce a kittypet, always a kittypet.
This clan needs wildborn warriors to defend it, not another soft mouth to feed.
He smells you fear.
YOU must prove to him and the other cats that your fear will not hold you back.
How could he ever prove to these firece cats taht he wasn't just a kittypet?
The tabby continued to jeer at him.
At worst, it will bring the Twolegs into out terriotory, looking for the poor lost kittypet who fills the woods with his pitiful tinkling.
Longtail went on, well aware that he had the support of his audience.
Written By; Erin Hunter Rusty still not move, but this time he was trying to pinpoint Longtail's position.
There he was, just behind a dusky brown queen.
Rusty flattened jungle book game pc ears, narrowed his eyes and, hissing, leaped through the starled cats to fling himself onto tormentor.
Longtail was completely unprepared for Rusty's attack.
He stahhered sideways, losing his foting on the har-baked earth.
Filled witgh rage and desperate to prove himself, Rusty dug his clwas deep into the tabby cat's fur and sank his teeth, N stuble rituals of aswiping and boxing preceded this fight.
The two cats were locked in a screaming, writhing tussle that flipped and somersaulted around the clearing ath the heart of the camp.
The other cats had to spring out of the way to aviod the screeching whirlwind of fur.
As Rusty scratched and struggled, he was suddenly aware that he felt no fear, only exhilaration, Through the roaring of the blood in his ears, he could hear he cats around them wailing with excitment.
Then Rusty felt his collar tighten around his neck.
Longtail had gripped in between his teeth and was tugging, and tugging hard.
Rusty felt terrible pressure at his throat.
Unable to breathe, he started to panic.
He writhedand twised, but each movement only made the pressure worse.
Retching and gulping for air.
And suddenly, with a loud snap, he was free.
Longtail tumbled away from him.
Rusty was scrabled to his paws and looked around.
Longtail's mouth, Rusty saw his collar, magled and broken.
At once, Bluestar leaped down from teh Highrock and silenced the noisy crowd with a thunderous caterwaul.
Rusty and Longtail remained fixed to the spot, gasping for breath.
Clumps of fur hung from their ruffled coats.
Rusty could fell a cut stinging above his eye.
Longtail's left ear was badly torn, and blood dripped down his lean shoulders onto the dusty ground.
They stared at each other, their hostility not yet spent.
Bluestar stepped froward and took the collar from longtail.
She placed it on the ground in front of her and meowed,"The newcomer has lost his Twoleg collar in battle for his honor.
Starclan has spoken its approval--this can has been released from the hold on his Twolegs owners, and is free to join ThunderClan as an apprentice.
He stood up and stepped forward into a shaft of sunshine, welcoming the warmth on hsi sore muscles.
The pool of light blazed his bright on his orange pelt, making his fur glow.
Rusty lifted hi head proudltand looked at the cats that surrounded him.
The time no cat argued or jeered.
He had shown himself to be worthy opponent in battle.
Bluestar approached Rusty and placed teh shredded collar on the ground in front of him.
She touched his ears gently with her nose.
Her eyes flashed briefly as, if her words had more meaning for her than Rusty knew.
Without hesitating, Rusty turned and kicked dust and grass over his collarad though burying his dirt.
Longtail growled and limped out of teh clearing toward a fern-shaded corner.
The cats spilt into groups, murmuring to each other exciredly.
A thrill of pride surged through hima t the sound of his new name.
He turned to greet the gray apprentice with a welcoming sniff.
Longtail is awarriors, although he only finished his training two mooons ago.
That scar you left on his ear won't let him forget you in hurry.
You've spolied his good looks, that's for sure.
As he washed he heard his new name again, achoing among the meows of cats.
Younger and a lot prettier than most--" A low yowl next to the two cats stopped Graypaw midspeech.
They both turned, and Firepaw recongnized the powerful gray tabby cat who had sat behind Graypaw earlier.
The sleek tom looked at Firepaw for a moment.
Longtail is a young warrior, but I can't imagine hime being neaten by a kittypet!
Firepaw barely had time to look around before a young cat crashed through the bushes and into the camp.
He was skinny and --apart from the white tip of his long, thin tail -- jet black from head to toe.
Graypaw gaspoed "That's Ravenpaw!
Why is he alone?
He was panting heavily.
His coat was ruffled and dusty, and his eyes were wild with fear.
Tigerclaw's his mentor," Graypaw explained quickly.
He lifted his head to listen as Bluestar steped forward.
The other cats drew back, curling their lips with anxiety.
He turned to the crowd of eager faces taht surrounded himand summoned enough breath to declare, "Redtail is dead!
His right foreleg glistened, wet with blood that flowed from the deep gash on his shoulder.
He's one of the greatest warriors in the forest.
Wish it could have been me.
I'd have really--"Graypaw was silenced by a fierce glance from old gray tome who had first sensed Ravenpaw's return Firepaw turned his attention back to ravenpaw.
He said the next Riverclan warrior to be caught in Thunderlcan territory would be killed, but Oak.
Oakheart would not back down.
He said his Cl-Clan had to be fed, Whatever we threatened.
HIs wound was still bleeding heavily, and he stood awkwardly to keep the weight off his shoulder.
It was hard to see what was happening.
The fighting was vicious.
I saw Oakheart had Redtail pinned to the ground, but then redtail.
Half scrambling, half falling, he slithered off the Highrock and collapsed on the ground below.
A ginger queen bounded toward him and crouched at his side.
She licked his cheek briefly and called out "Spottedleaf!
She hurried over to Ravenpaw and mewes for the queen to stand back.
Then she used her small pink nose to roll the apprentice over so that she could take a good look at the wound.
She glanced up and meowed.
All eyes turned to the direction it had come from.
A massive dark brown tabby staggered through the gorse tunnel.
Between his sharp of another cat.
He dragged the tattered creature into the center of the clearing.
Firepaw craned his neck and glimpsed a flash of bright ginger tail hanging limply in the dust.
Shock rippled through the Clan like a chill breeze.
Besides Firepaw, Graypaw dropped into a crouch as grief swept over him"Redtail!
TIgerclaw let the scruff of Redtail's neck fall from his mouth.
He looked steadily back at bluestar.
I couldn't save him, but I managed to take Oakheart's life while he was still gloating over his victory.
The apprentice's eyes were dark with sadness.
After moment's pause several of the cats moved forward to lick Redtails bedraggled fur.
As they groomed they purred hushed phrases to the dead warrior.
Firepaw whispered into graypaw's ear, "What are they doing?
You can see them in the Silverpelt.
Each star is a Starclan warrior.
Redtail will be among them tonight.
Bluestar has remained jungle board game while the first cats came to pay their respects to Redtail.
Now she leaped down from the Highrock and walked slowly toward Redtail's body The others cats retreated and watched their leader crouched down to share tongues with her old comrade one last time.
When she had finished she raised he head and spoke.
He voice was low and thick with grief, and the Clan listened in silence"Redtail was a brave warrior.
Hos loyalty to ThunderClan could never be doubted.
I always relied on his judgement, for it bore witness to needs of the clan, and was never swayed by self interest on pride.
He would have made a fine leader.
Then she lowered herself onto her belly her head bowed, her paws stretched neatly before her, and silently she grieved for her lost friend.
Several other cats came and lay down beside her, their bowed heads and hunched back echoing her mournful pose.
He had not known redtail, but he couldn't help feeling moved as he witnessed the Clan mourn.
Graypaw came and stood beside him again.
That brown -striped tabby over there.
I wonder who his mentor will be?
Firepaw looked past him to the clan leader.
She won't want to let him go too quickly.
He was one of the best warriors.
Not as big and powerful as Tigerclaw or Lionheart, but quick and clever.
His massive body showed signs of his warrior life.
One of his ears was split into a deep vee shape, and a thick scar sliced the bridge of nose.
Suddenly Tigerclaw stood up and stalked over to Ravenpaw.
Spottedleaf was crouching beside Tigerclaw's wounded apprentice, using her teeth and front paws to press wads of cobweb onto his shoulder wound.
Fireoaw leaned toward graypaw and asked, "What's spootedleaf doing?
It looked like a nasty cut.
And Ravenpaw seemed really shaken up.
He's always been a bit jumpy, but I 've never seen him this bad before.
Let's go and see if he's woken up yet.
Do you think you can save him?
I've spent a lot of time training him up, I don't want my efforts to be wasted at the first battle.
He just needs to rest.
He jabbed Ravenpaw with one of his front claws.
This apprentice needs to keep as still as possible until the cat has healed.
We don't want him opening his wound by jumping about trying to please you.
He guessed that few cats dared to give orders to the warrior like that.
The big tabby stiffened, and seemed about to speak when Spottedleaf mewed teasingly, "Even you know better than to argue with a medicine cat, Tigerclaw.
He turned to leave and caught the sight of Graypaw and Firepaw.
Bluestar mentioned that she had stumbled across some stray kittypet.
So she's actually going to try you out, is she?
Tigerclaw eyed him thoughtfully.
Just then, Ravenpaw stirred and twitched his ears.
Firepaw realized she was serious, despite the lively glimmer in her warm amber eyes.
See you later, Ravenpaw.
He was clearly taking his duties as a guide very seriously.
Firepaw followed him to a large bush a few paces away from the Highrock.
There was a clear view from here right down to the gorse entrance to the camp.
The branches of the bush hung low, but Firepaw could see a sheltered space inside where the warriors made their nests.
The younger warriors eat nearby.
Sometimes they are invited to join the senior warriors for eating, which is a big honor.
The elders have their own place on the other side of the clearing.
Come on, I'll show you.
They stopped beside a fallen tree that sheltered a patch of lush grass.
Crouched among the soft greenery were four elderly cats rucking into a plump young rabbit.
Dustpaw abd Sabdpaw would have brought them that," whispered Graypaw.
His patchy fur was dark brown and there was only a stump where his tail should have been.
Firepaw and Graypaw both shook their heads.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw are turning into fine hunters.
Would you mind if these youngsters shared a mouse, One-eye?
Firepaw noticed one of her eyes were clouded an sightless.
He stepped forward and took a large mouse from the pile of prey, and then dropped it at Firepaws feet.
He suddenly felt excited by the warm smells that were rising from the peice of fresh-kill.
His whole body quivered at the thought of sharing his first real food as a Clan member.
Just save me some!
Firepaw crouched down and sang with flavors of the forest.
As the two apprentices shared the mouse, they listened to the elders talk among themselves.
It was not very long after she lost her kits.
But she'll need to make up her mind quickly.
According to Clan custom, the choice has to be made before moonhigh after the death of the old deputy.
Firepaw raised his head and looked around the clearing.
What could Halftail mean?
To Firepaw, all the warriors looked worthy of becoming deputy.
Perhaps he meant Tigerclaw, after all, he had avenged Redtail's death.
Tigerclaw was sitting not far off, his ears angled toward the elders' conversation.
As Firepaw stretched with his tongue to lick the last traces of mouse from his whiskers, Bluestar's voice called from the Highrock.
Redtail's body still lay in the clearing below, pale gray in the fading light.
Tonight he sits with his fellow warriors among the stars.
He couldn't help noticing the hunger in the big warrior's amber eyes as he stared at the Highrock.
But the dark warrior's face revealed nothing as he mewed congratulate Lionheart with a nudge so hearty that it almost pushed the golden tabby off balance.
Since there must be no delay in training of our apprentices, I shall appoint Dustpaw's new mentor immediately.
Darkstripe, you are ready for your first apprentice, so you will continue Dustpaw's training.
You had a fine mentor in Tigerclaw, and I expect you to pass on some of your excellent skills you were taught.
He strode over to Dustpaw, bent his head, and rather awkwardly touched noses with his new apprentice.
Dustpaw flicked his tail respectfully, but his eyes were still dull with grief for his lost mentor.
Bluestar raised her voice.
Many other cats joined her, Dustpaw and Smallear among them.
He had to admit the idea didn't appeal to him much.
It had been a busy day and he was beginning to feel tired.
All he wanted to do was was find somewhere warm and dry to curl up and sleep.
Graypaw shook his head.
I'll show you where we sleep.
The apprentices' den is over here.
Her coat was ginger, like Firepaw's, but much paler, with barely visible stripes of darker fur.
The young cat sniffed rudely.
Don't tell me I'm going to have to share my nest with that revolting stench!
Since his fight with Longtail, all the cats had been quite friendly.
Maybe they had just been distracted by Ravenpaw's news, he thought.
She's not usually this bad-tempered.
As my apprentice, I expected you to be a little more welcoming to this newcomer.
You should get some sleep.
As he walked off, she spun around and vanished into the clump of ferns, sniffing once more as she brushed past Firepaw.
With a flick of tail, Graypaw invited Firepaw to follow him, and led the way after Sandpaw.
Inside the sleeping area, the ground was lined with soft moss, and the pale moonlight turned everything a delicate shade of green.
The air was fragrant with the fern scent, and warmer than outside.
Graypaw and Firepaw exchanged glances, but said nothing.
Firepaw raked together a pile of moss with is claws.
When he gathered his bed into a cozy nest, he circled until it was comfortable and settled down.
His whole body felt drowsy with contentment.
This was his home now.
He was a member of ThunderClan.
He had been chasing a squirrel, up and up, into the topmost branches of a tall oak.
Firepaw stretched sleepily, then remembered: today was his first day of training.
He leaped to his paws.
His drowsiness evaporated as excitement surged through his veins.
Graypaw was giving himself a hasty wash.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw are on hunting duty.
So Lionheart thought you and I could train with him and Tigerclaw this morning.
As they climbed over the crest of the ravine, a cool breeze ruffled their fur.
Fat, white clouds raced across the blue sky overhead.
Firepaw felt fierce joy well up inside him as he followed Graypaw down a tree-shaded slope and into a sandy hollow.
Tigerclaw and Lionheart were indeed waiting, sitting a few tail-lengths apart on the sun-warmed sand.
Lionheart nodded to Graypaw and they took off with equal speed.
Firepaw scrambled after them, his paws slipping on the soft sand.
The trees were thick in this part of the forest, birch and ash trees overshadowed by mighty oaks.
The ground was carpeted with crisp dead leaves that rustled beneath their paws.
Tigerclaw paused to spray his scent on a thick clump of ferns.
The other cats stopped beside him.
Can you smell anything?
There was the faint scent of a Twoleg, and the stronger smell of a dog, familiar to him from his old home.
The odors were weak and seemed overlaid with fresher forest smells.
Tigerclaw nodded, and the four cats stalked out from beneath the ferns and crossed the sharp stones of the narrow Twoleg path.
The trees beyond were pine.
They grew tall and straight, row after row.
It was easy to walk silently here.
There was no undergrowth here to hide in, and Firepaw sensed tension in the other cats as they stalked unprotected between the tree trunks.
Then they take the fallen trees to the Treecut place that lies near here.
The cats padded on through the pine forest.
Today, however, we will head the other way.
They quickly crossed over into the safe bushes of the oak woods beyond.
But Firepaw still sensed anxiety in the other cats.
Firepaw felt his fur stand on end.
This was where Redtail had been slain.
Lionheart stopped by a flat gray rock.
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.
It will be strongest at the boundary, because their warriors will have scent-marked the trees along here.
He set off quickly, away from the Make a story book games, followed by Tigerclaw.
Graypaw and Firepaw trotted after them.
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 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.
WindClan governs the high ground ahead of us, where the sun sets.
A shocked silence greeted his words.
Tigerclaw was the first to reply.
This will make you a stronger warrior one day.
The truce lasts for as long as the moon is at its fullest.
The Gatherings are very important because they allow the Clans to come together in peace for one night.
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.
Keep your wits about you, Firepaw.
Fresher scents mean that a ShadowClan patrol is in the area.
He stiffened, but the other cats kept up their pace, heading straight for the ominous rumbling.
Firepaw peered through the trees ahead.
They seemed to be getting thinner, letting in a broad band of sunlight.
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.
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.
The Thunderpath runs for many pawsteps along our boundary line.
An untrained apprentice would be easy prey for an adder, and I expect you are getting tired, Firepaw.
His head was spinnning with all the new smells and sights, and Lionheart was right: he was tired, and hungry.
He fell please click for source 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.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw were already there, munching hungrily.
Firepaw was hungry too, and crouched down to eat.
A loud call from Bluestar made Firepaw look up.
He watched several of the Clan warriors and elders gather in the clearing.
It was time for the Clan party to leave for the Gathering.
Dustpaw and Sandpaw leaped to their feet and trotted off to join the other cats.
Her fur glowed like silver in the moonlight, and she looked calm and confident as she led her Clan to the brief truce between old enemies.
All the apprentices get to go sometime.
When they had finished, Graypaw wandered over to Firepaw and began to groom his head.
Together they washed, sharing tongues as Firepaw had seen the other cats do when he first arrived.
Then, tired after the long trek, they pushed their way into their den.
They settled down in their nests and quickly fell asleep.
Written by Erin Hunter The following morning, Graypaw and Firepaw arrived early at the sandy hollow.
They had crept out before Sandpaw and Dustpaw woke.
Firepaw had been eager to hear about the Gathering, but Graypaw had dragged him away.
It promised to be another warm day.
And this time Ravenpaw came to join them.
Thanks to Spottedleaf, his wound was healing well.
Graypaw played around, scooping leaves into the air and leaping after them.
Firepaw watched, his tail twitching with amusement.
Ravenpaw sat quietly at one side of the hollow, looking tense and unhappy.
He looked Ravenpaw straight in the eye.
Now, there is a big difference between creeping up on a rabbit and creeping up on a mouse.
Can any of you tell me why?
So what must you bear in mind when hunting mice?
Lionheart looked approvingly at him.
You must take all your weight into your haunches, so that your paws make no impact on the forest floor.
He felt himself fall instinctively into the right position, and as he stepped forward, as silently and lightly as he could, he felt a glow of pride that his muscles responded so smoothly.
Do you think dinner is going to come and lie down in your food dish and wait to be eaten?
He listened carefully to the warrior, determined to get everything right.
He cast a scornful look at the black cat.
He should be able to adapt.
Even you, Firepaw, have learned something this morning.
Imagine being shown up by a kittypet!
Firepaw felt his fur prickle with discomfort.
I shall just wander up to them and sit on them till they surrender.
This is no time for your jokes!
Graypaw, there might be something in that big bramble patch over there.
You may find something there.
With the blood pounding in his ears, Firepaw crept slowly up over the rise.
Sure enough, a streambed cut through the trees ahead of him.
In leaf-fall, he guessed it would carry the rainwater away from the forest and into the great river that cut through RiverClan territory.
Now it was dry.
Firepaw crept quietly down the bank and crouched on its sandy floor.
Every sense felt on fire with tension.
Silently he scanned the empty stream for signs of life.
He watched for any tiny movement, his mouth open so he could pick up the smallest scent, his ears twisted forward.
Then he smelled mouse.
He recognized the odor instantly, remembering his first taste the night before.
Wild energy surged through him, but he remained motionless, trying desperately to pinpoint the prey.
He strained his ears forward until he picked up the rapid pulsing of a tiny mouse heart.
Then a flash of brown caught his eye.
The creature was scrambling through the long grass that draped the edges of the stream.
Firepaw shifted closer, remembering to keep his weight on his haunches until he was within striking distance.
Then he pushed back hard on his hindpaws and sprang, kicking up sand as he rose.
The mouse raced away.
But Firepaw was quicker.
He scooped it into the air with one paw, threw it onto the sandy streambed, and lunged on top of it.
He killed it quickly with one sharp bite.
Firepaw carefully lifted the warm body between his teeth and returned with his tail held high to the hollow where Tigerclaw and Lionheart waited.
He had made his first kill.
He was a true ThunderClan apprentice now.
All written by Erin Hunter!
I don't own any of this!!!
This is for people that acca books free 2019 access Warriors anyplace else.
Chapter 6 Early-morning sunlight streamed down onto the forest floor as Firepaw roamed in search of prey.
Two moons had passed since he had begun his training.
He felt at ease in this environment now.
His senses had been awoken and educated in the ways of the woods.
Firepaw paused to sniff the earth and the cold blind things that moved within it.
He caught the scent of a Twoleg that had wandered the forest recently.
Now that greenleaf was fully here, leaves were thick on the branches and tiny creatures were busy beneath the carpet of leaf mold.
Firepaw made a lean, strong shape as he moved silently through the trees, all his senses alert for the scent trail that would end in a swift kill.
Today he had been set his first solo task.
He was determined to do well, even if his task was only to bring back fresh-kill for the Clan.
He headed for the stream that he had crossed on that first trek through the ThunderClan hunting grounds.
It gurgled and spattered as it ran downhill over the smooth, round pebbles.
Firepaw paused briefly to lap at the cold, clear water, then lifted his head and tested the air again for any scent of prey.
The stench of a fox lay heavy in the air here.
The smell was stale, so the fox must have drunk here earlier in the day.
Firepaw recognized the odor; he had smelled it on his first visit to the forest.
He struggled to screen out the fox-stench and concentrate on prey-scent.
Suddenly his whiskers prickled as he homed in on the warm blood-beat of prey—a water vole busy about its nest.
A moment later he saw the vole.
The stargames tipps und tricks book of ra brown body was darting back and forth along the bank as it gathered grass stalks.
His last meal had been many hours ago, but he dared not hunt for himself until the Clan had been fed.
His orange belly fur brushed against the damp grass.
He crept closer, his eyes never leaving his prey.
Another moment and he would be near enough to spring….
Suddenly there was a loud rustle in the ferns behind him.
Firepaw felt the hackles rising along his spine.
Whatever had ruined his first good chance of catching prey would have to pay.
He sniffed the air.
A growl rose in his throat as he began doubling back in a wide circle.
He pricked up his ears and opened his eyes wide, seeking out any movement.
He heard the undergrowth rustle again.
It was louder now, off to one side.
He could see the ferns moving, but the fronds still hid the enemy from view.
A twig snapped with a sharp cracking noise.
He leaped for the trunk of an ash and climbed swiftly and silently up to an overhanging branch.
Below him the invisible warrior came closer, and closer still.
Firepaw held his breath, judging his moment as the ferns were pushed aside and a large grayish shape emerged.
Claws warriors free online books, he launched himself at the enemy and landed squarely on a set of furry, muscular shoulders.
He dug in hard, gripping with thorn-sharp claws, ready to deal out a powerful warning bite.
He rolled over and over in an attempt to dislodge his attacker.
Rolling away, he sprang to his feet and gave himself a shake, which rippled all the way along his body to the end of his tail.
He winced and shook himself.
You still stalk like a lopsided badger!
He flattened his ears playfully.
Graypaw gave a hiss of delight.
He managed to get in a couple of paw strikes before Graypaw overpowered him and held him down.
Firepaw let his body go limp.
As he did so, Firepaw sprang to his feet, firing Graypaw off his back and into the undergrowth.
Firepaw leaped after him and pinned him to the ground.
He jumped nimbly off Graypaw and began to squirm around in the leaf litter, enjoying his easy victory and slot book o fra gratis warmth of the earth against his back.
Graypaw seemed unbothered by his second defeat of the morning.
It was too fine a day for bad temper.
I was about to catch a vole when your noisy trampling frightened it off.
Firepaw looked at his crestfallen friend.
I thought you had to give them a message from Bluestar.
I was going to do a little hunting first.
Seems that some ShadowClan cats have been prowling around.
Bluestar wants to check things out.
But you still have to catch them.
He would probably have to make three or four hunting trips before he had caught enough prey.
Silverpelt would be in the sky before he got a chance to eat.
Graypaw stroked his whiskers.
I owe you that, at least.
We should be able to catch a couple of voles before I have to get going.
The fox-stench was still in the air, but suddenly it smelled stronger.
Graypaw stopped and sniffed the air too.
Yeah, I smelled it earlier.
Graypaw sniffed again, opening his mouth slightly.
He swiveled his head to look across the stream at the bushes in the woods beyond.
He saw something red and thick-haired moving among the bushes.
It stepped into a clearing in the undergrowth and Firepaw saw a low body, glinting red in the dappled sunlight.
Its tail was heavily furred and it had a long, narrow snout.
Looks like a dog, behaves like a cat.
We must warn the queens that one has strayed into our territory.
Foxes are as bad as badgers when it comes to killing young kits.
Anyway, Bluestar will probably send a warrior patrol to scare it off.
How do you think old Halftail earned his name?
A cat needs his tail if he wants to land on his feet.
It helps him spin in midair.
As Firepaw had predicted, hunting was good that day.
Before long, Graypaw had pounced on a small mouse and Firepaw had caught a thrush.
He quickly took its life.
No time to practice killing techniques today; there were too many hungry mouths waiting back at camp.
Firepaw kicked earth over the prey, so that it would be safe from predators until he came back for it.
Suddenly a squirrel broke cover.
Firepaw burst into action.
They slid to a halt as the squirrel scampered upward into a birch.
Panting, the two cats stopped to catch their breath.
The acrid stench that hit their mouths and noses surprised them.
It was the first time they had been here alone.
A trail of noisy creatures growled along the hard surface, their dead eyes staring straight ahead.
The choking smells made his throat sting.
Written by Erin Hunter Graypaw shook his head.
Firepaw took a step out of the cover of the forest.
A border of oily grass lay between the trees and the Thunderpath.
He crept slowly out onto it, and then shrank back as a stinking monster hurtled past.
Where are you going?
He waited till there were no monsters in sight.
Then he edged forward again, across the grass, right to the edge of the path.
Cautiously, he reached out a paw to touch it.
It felt warm, almost sticky, heated by the sun.
He looked up, staring across the Thunderpath.
Was that a pair of eyes glinting out of the forest on the other side?
He sniffed the air, but smelled nothing except the stench of the great gray path.
The eyes on the other side were still shining in the shadows.
Then they blinked, slowly.
Firepaw was sure now.
It was a ShadowClan warrior, and it was staring straight at him.
The wind from it almost toppled him over.
Firepaw turned and ran as fast as he could back into the safety of the forest.
His whiskers trembled with fear and anger.
His whiskers were trembling too.
Once they were a safe distance from the Thunderpath, Graypaw stopped to catch his breath.
Firepaw sat down and began to lick his ruffled fur.
He envied Graypaw, wishing he were off to join a warrior patrol.
Today he had seen his first ShadowClan warrior.
Chapter 7 Firepaw retraced his steps and headed back toward the stream.
He thought of those eyes burning from the darkness of the ShadowClan territory.
Suddenly he caught a faint smell on the breeze.
The scent message told him many things.
The stranger was a she-cat, not young and definitely not from ThunderClan.
She carried no distinct scent from any of the Clans, but Firepaw could tell she was tired, hungry, and sick, and she was in an ugly mood.
Dropping low, Firepaw moved forward, heading toward the scent.
Then he paused in puzzlement.
The warrior scent was fainter now.
Suddenly, with a lightning movement, a snarling ball of fur burst from the bushes behind him.
Firepaw screeched in shock as the she-cat slammed into him, knocking him sideways.
Two heavy paws clamped down onto his shoulders, and iron jaws closed around the back of his neck.
If the other cat were can free money for you book necessary sink its fangs too deep, it would all be over.
He forced himself to go limp, relaxing his muscles as if in submission, and let out a pretend howl of alarm.
The she-cat opened her mouth to give a triumphant yowl.
At the insult, Firepaw felt a surge of fury.
But not yet, he told himself.
Wait until you feel her teeth again.
Firepaw surged upward with all the strength in his powerful young body.
The she-cat gave a snarl of surprise as she was thrown clear.
She tumbled backward into a gorse bush.
The she-cat had a broad, almost flat face, and round orange eyes.
Her dark gray fur was long and matted into smelly clumps.
Her ears were torn and ragged, and her muzzle was traced with the scars of many old battles.
Firepaw stood his ground.
Then I will leave.
There was no trace of the house cat in him now.
His warrior blood was up.
He was itching to fight, to defend his territory and protect his Clan.
Yellowfang seemed to sense the change in him.
Her fierce orange eyes sparked with new respect.
Dipping her head and breaking eye contact, she started to back off.
Snarling and spitting, young cat and old locked together.
They rolled over and over, teeth and claws flashing.
Ears pressed flat to his head, Firepaw fought to get a grip.
Then Yellowfang reared up on her back legs.
With her filthy tail bristling, she looked even bigger.
He leaned backward, just in time.
Bared teeth closed on the air next to his ear.
Instinctively Firepaw lashed out with a backswipe.
The force of it sent shock waves up his front leg.
She shook her head to clear it.
In the single heartbeat before the she-cat recovered, Firepaw saw his chance.
Yellowfang crouched, ready for a fresh attack.
Her breath seemed to wheeze up from her foul-smelling lungs.
The bigger cat tried to reach up onto his shoulders and get a killing grip, but this time she was hampered by her wounded leg.
Firepaw tasted earth on his tongue and spat out a mouthful of grit.
Over and over they rolled, biting and snapping.
Moments later they broke apart.
Firepaw was gasping for breath now.
But he sensed that Yellowfang was weakening.
The she-cat was badly wounded, and her back legs could barely support her scrawny body.
But her injured leg gave way and she slumped to the ground.
She tried to get up and failed.
Perhaps, in the heat of battle, he would, but a mercy killing, in cold blood?
This was something very different.
Could she smell the scent of Twolegs on him, even now, after all this time?
Yellowfang narrowed her eyes.
Act like a warrior and finish me off.
He would not be goaded into killing this miserable creature.
He felt his muscles relax as curiosity pricked him.
How had a Clan cat gotten in such a state?
ThunderClan elders were looked after better than kits!
Are you trying to talk me to death?
And since she could hardly hunt for herself, perhaps he should kill her now.
The two cats looked at each other, uncertainty in both their gazes.
Yellowfang seemed to deflate.
Her hackles smoothed out and her tail lost its gorse-bush stiffness.
She flopped down and began licking her leg wound.
Firepaw glanced briefly over his shoulder at her and hissed quietly in exasperation before heading for the trees.
As he padded silently through the ferns, sun-warmed odors filled his nose, and he caught the sour reek of a long-dead rat.
He heard the scratching of insects beneath bark, the rustle of furry things scurrying over leaves.
His first thought had been to go and dig up the thrush he had killed earlier, but that would take too long.
Written by: Erin Hunter I don't own any of this!!!
Easy meat, but a starving cat needed fresh-kill.
Only when times were very hard would a warrior eat crow food.
Just then he paused, scenting a young rabbit ahead.
A few more steps and he saw it.
Flattening himself down, he stalked the creature.
He was barely a mouse-length away before it detected him.
By then it was too late.
A rush of speed, a flash of claws, and he had it.
He held the wriggling body fast and finished it off quickly.
Yellowfang looked up tiredly as Firepaw dropped the rabbit on the ground beside her.
Her grizzled jaw dropped.
Well, I might still do that.
He felt embarrassed by his kindness.
His own hunger rose up and his mouth filled with water.
He still had to take back enough prey for the Clan, but the fresh-kill smelled delicious.
As if one wash is going to make much difference, Firepaw thought, his nose twitching.
She was the arch-cat of stench.
He eyed the tattered remnants of the prey.
He licked his lips, savoring every last taste, tingling from head to paw.
Yellowfang watched him closely, showing her stained teeth.
Knowing she had found his sore spot, she was trying to antagonize him.
Firepaw ignored her and began to wash.
He could hear their soft paw-fall on the leaf litter and the sound of fur swishing through branches.
He smelled the wind brushing against their coats.
These were ThunderClan warriors, confident enough in their own territory not to care about the noise they made.
Then he looked at Yellowfang and the fresh pile of rabbit bones that lay beside her.
But surely he would understand why Firepaw had fed this wretched creature.
His mind reeled, suddenly fearful of what would happen to him.
His first apprentice task, and he had ended up breaking the warrior code!
Chapter 8 Yellowfang growled in defiance at the approaching pawsteps, but Firepaw could sense her panic.
The she-cat struggled to her feet.
Thanks for the meal.
Silent shadows slipped out of the trees, and in a heartbeat the ThunderClan patrol had encircled Firepaw and Yellowfang.
Firepaw recognized them: Tigerclaw, Darkstripe, Willowpelt, and Bluestar, all of them lean and hard-muscled.
Graypaw followed close behind.
He bounded out of the bushes and stood beside the warrior patrol.
Firepaw mewed a hasty greeting to his Clan.
But only Graypaw returned it.
Firepaw glanced at Yellowfang and groaned inwardly; he could still smell the fear-scent on her, but instead of cowering in submission, the scruffy creature was glaring in defiance.
An enemy warrior—and recently fed, by the smell of learn more here both.
Was your hunger so bad that you had to feed yourself before you had gathered prey for your Clan?
Bluestar was furious—and rightly so.
He crouched lower to the ground.
Before he could speak there was a loud hiss from Tigerclaw.
Suddenly she looked surprised.
It seems you have captured us a ShadowClan cat.

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Order of Warriors Books Warriors is a series of children’s fantasy novels by Erin Hunter – a pen name used by Victoria Holmes, Kate Cary, Cherith Baldry, Tui Sutherland and Gillian Philip. The Warriors are feral cats who are broken up into four clans – ThunderClan, WindClan, ShadowClan and RiverClan – that inhabit a forest.


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