Free Tallstar's Revenge by Erin Hunter Page A

rabbit hole that was half-hidden between the roots of a bush. “The tunneling patrol’s down there,” she explained.
    Another voice echoed from the darkness. “Let’s shore it up with rocks.”
    â€œI shifted some back at the double fork.”
    â€œFetch them, before there’s a slide.”
    Tallpaw crept forward, sniffing. He smelled Plumclaw’s scent, and Hickorynose. “Do you think they need help?” he asked warily. He didn’t want to creep down into the earth.
    â€œThey know what they’re doing,” Dawnstripe told him. “They won’t want us getting in the way.” She headed away from the rabbit hole.
    Tallpaw hurried after her. “Aren’t we even going to look?” Surely the tunnels were part of WindClan territory? Their Clanmates might be in trouble.
    â€œI’m a moor runner. I don’t go underground if I can help it.” Dawnstripe shook her pelt as though she were shaking out soil. “One of the tunnelers will take you down during your training and teach you the basics of hunting and patrolling down there.”
    Tallpaw tried to ignore the tightening in his chest. I will be able to breathe underground; I will. Instead he gazed toward the distant horizon, relishing the wind that lifted his fur. He lifted his chin. If Shrewpaw, Ryepaw, Stagpaw, and Doepaw can survive basic tunnel training, so can I. As Dawnstripe headed through a gorse patch, Tallpaw raced to catch up. He was relieved to feel the ground smooth underpaw, well trod by sheep. His paws burned with every step and he winced as he hopped over a lump of dirt-berries. “Where are we going now?”
    â€œCamp.” Dawnstripe glanced at him. “You must be tired.”
    â€œNo,” Tallpaw lied. “I could stay out for days.”
    A purr rumbled in Dawnstripe’s throat. “Did you like what you saw?”
    Tallpaw nodded enthusiastically. “I didn’t imagine WindClan territory was so huge.”
    â€œWe guard the edge of the world,” Dawnstripe told him. “The other Clans sit cozy in their marshes and woods, fed by the river and sheltered by our moor. They never know the true taste of the wind or the scent of first snow. There’s no Clan cat faster or more nimble than a WindClan cat.” She glanced at Tallpaw’s long, black tail. “You’ll have good balance. It won’t be long before you can outpace a rabbit even on rough ground.”
    â€œI was named for my tail.” Tallpaw puffed out his chest. He remembered what Sandgorse had told Heatherstar: that it was a tunneler’s tail and would make it easy to drag him from a cave-in. Relief flooded Tallpaw’s pelt. He’d never have to face a cave-in now that he was going to be a moor runner. Then he pictured Sandgorse’s eyes, dark with disappointment. Guilt formed a lump in his throat as the gorse opened onto heather and Tallpaw glimpsed the hollow cradling the camp. He broke into a run, overtaking Dawnstripe and racing for the entrance. His paws skidded on the grass as he swung around and ducked through the gap in the heather to burst into the clearing beyond.
    Barkpaw called from outside the medicine den. “You’re back!” He raced across the tussocks and skidded to a halt in front of Tallpaw. “What did you see?”
    Tallpaw winced at the sharp tang of herbs wafting from his friend. “Everything! Fourtrees, ThunderClan territory, and RiverClan and ShadowClan. And the Highstones.” His pelt pricked suddenly. “And the gorge.”
    â€œRyepaw said you nearly fell into it.” Barkpaw rubbed green sap from his nose.
    â€œIs Ryepaw back already?” Tallpaw scanned the camp and spotted her sharing prey with Shrewpaw and Stagpaw outside the apprentices’ den. She had feathers in her whiskers.
    â€œShe and Larksplash caught a grouse,” Barkpaw told him.
    Tallpaw could smell its scent wafting across