Warriors: Dawn of the Clans #2: Thunder Rising (28 page)

Maybe I can warn them off,
he thought, determined not to let them see how frightened he was.

He fluffed his fur and slid out his claws, giving a furious snarl as the creatures approached his log. But his defiance only seemed to make them angrier. They swam faster, closing rapidly on him, their calls deafening. Ripple braced himself for battle.

They’re bigger than me, and there are two of them. But I’m going to do my best.

The log lurched beneath Ripple’s feet as the leading animal climbed onto it, lunging forward to snap at him. The creature’s teeth met in his pelt. Ripple jumped back in a panic and kicked out at it, fending it off.

The log bobbed wildly in the water. The creature lost its balance and fell back with a splash. The log moved as the creature fell, and the current tugged it loose, bearing Ripple away from the threatening creatures. As Ripple stared back at them, they called out to him with angry chittering, but they didn’t try to follow. Ripple lost sight of them as the river curved around a rocky outcrop with a thick growth of bushes.

Ripple had escaped, but he felt no relief. Instead, he despaired. The world outside the Park was huge and cruel. Until now, he had always been protected by the other cats, by the sun and the earth, by kindly Twolegs. He had believed things would always be that way.

Now Twolegs and other creatures attack me. And I’m starving. Everything has fallen apart, just as the Twolegs destroyed my home.

Ripple huddled miserably on his log as the last of the light died and the river carried him on into the night.

C
HAPTER
2

Ripple was exhausted, but he didn’t
dare to sleep. He was too afraid of falling off his log and drowning in the river. Stars appeared, their reflections glittering on the surface of the river, but he was too wretched to appreciate their beauty.

Full darkness had fallen when Ripple heard a soft splash close to his log. He tensed and struggled to his paws, looking around for the new threat.

Maybe those animals followed me after all!

There was another splash, and this time Ripple caught a glimpse of a fish arcing out of the water. Another followed, and another . . . They’re all around me, he thought hungrily.

With a smacking sound, one landed directly in front of Ripple on the log. Instantly he slapped down his paw, digging in his claws before the fish could flap back into the water. It writhed underneath his pads as it struggled to free itself. For a heartbeat he didn’t know what to do; hesitantly he bent down and bit into it at the back of its head.

The fish went limp, and Ripple tore off a mouthful of its flesh and gulped it down. “Wow!” he exclaimed aloud. “It’s delicious!”

He ate the rest of the fish in huge, famished bites, amazed and pleased that the river had given him food.

He remembered how Arc had taught him that the sun and earth protected him. Now he realized that the river had protected him, too, ever since he fell from the wall at the edge of the Park. The river had sent the log that had saved him from drowning, and carried him away from the Twoleg kits and the strange, savage animals.

“Thank you!” he breathed out, feeling less alone for the first time since he fell from the wall and saw his mentor disappearing into the distance.

His log floated on through the darkness. With a full belly, Ripple managed to doze, feeling more secure in his hope that the river would go on caring for him.

He came fully awake to see the pale light of dawn in the sky. The lush enclosures on either side of the river had given way to bleak slopes of short, tough grass, broken up by clumps of thornbushes and stony outcrops. Far away in one direction, jagged spikes of rock stood out against the sky. A chilly wind swept across the river, ruffling the surface. Ripple shivered, hoping for the sun to rise and warm his fur.

There’ll be no morning caterwaul today,
he thought with a pang of loss, wondering what had happened to Arc and the rest of his friends in the Park.
At least my fur should get properly dry.

But when the sun eventually rose, it was mostly hidden behind clouds, and there was no warmth in the day. The log stayed in the middle of the river; Ripple had no hope of getting to shore, and in any case the bare hills on either side looked uninviting. The river had grown narrower, too, and the current was faster.

Maybe I’ll come to a better place soon,
he thought.

Then from somewhere ahead Ripple heard a distant roaring. At first he thought it must be another Thunderpath, but the noise was too steady to be the passing of monsters. It rapidly grew louder as the current hurried him on, faster and faster. Ripple dug his claws deep into his log, his heart beginning to pound with alarm as he drew closer to the unknown sound.

Staring ahead, Ripple saw the weirdest thing yet: the river seemed to come to a sudden stop. Beyond it was only the sky.

“What . . .” he muttered.

Then he reached the edge. His eyes widened in pure panic as he caught a glimpse of water pouring over rock in a smooth curve. Far below him, there was turmoil as the river cascaded into a pool in a chaos of spray and foam. Ripple let out a screech as his log tipped over the edge.

The thunder of the falling water was all around him. He lost his grip on the log. His paws flailed helplessly as the weight of water bore him down and plunged him into the pool. The river closed over his head and rolled him over and over until he didn’t know where the surface was.

His senses were spinning away into darkness when his head bobbed up into the light. He took in a gulp of air, but when he opened his jaws to let out a yowl of terror, water gushed into his mouth and he sank again.

But Ripple refused to give in. He pumped his legs with all the strength he had left, forcing himself back upward. A moment later he reached the surface. To his amazement, the river was bearing him up, supporting him as it swept him along. He kicked out in the turbulent water, managing to stay afloat as the current whirled him onward.

I can swim!
he thought triumphantly.
Just like those creatures who attacked me!

Forbidding walls of rock stretched above his head on either side. Panic clawed at Ripple as he saw no way of climbing to safety up the sheer face of the cliffs.

But gradually the river grew wider again and the speed of the current slackened. The rock walls gave way to grassy banks. Ripple glanced from side to side, knowing that his strength was ebbing and he would have to find somewhere to come ashore soon.

Before he could strike out across the current, the river washed him gently against a boulder. Ripple grabbed at it with his claws and scrambled up until he could collapse on the flat top of the rock. He lay limp, his paws splayed out, and coughed up a few mouthfuls of water. Then a sparkling darkness filled his head, and he knew nothing more.

A long time later, Ripple became aware of warmth beating down on him. He blinked his eyes open and raised his head to look around. While he was unconscious the clouds had cleared away and the sun shone in a bright blue sky.

Muscles shrieking in protest, Ripple tottered to his paws and looked around. He was standing at the edge of a group of flat rocks that rose above the surface of the river. Deep channels of fast-flowing water separated him from the banks on either side.

Ripple gazed longingly across at the banks. They sloped upward, covered with long grass and clumps of fern, to where bushes and trees grew at the top. A little farther downstream a willow tree leaned over a reed bed, its branches trailing in the current.

As he watched, a mouse darted out of a clump of ferns and scuttled across the grass to the shelter of a tree stump. It was so close that Ripple could pick up its scent, and water gushed into his mouth. His belly was complaining again, and there was nothing to eat among the sunbaked rocks.

Ripple worked his legs, stretching and relaxing his muscles until the aches faded. Then he crouched down at the edge of the rock and lapped a few gulps of water, reveling at the cool touch in his parched mouth.

There were fish here too, he noticed, resting in the shade cast by the rocks. Ripple dipped in a paw and tried to catch one, but it swam off with a flick of its tail before he could get anywhere near it.
There must be a way of doing this,
he thought determinedly.

After a few more failed attempts, Ripple worked out that he had to position himself so that his shadow didn’t fall on the water, and not lean over so far that the fish could see him. He let his paw slide into the water so slowly that it didn’t disturb the flow of the current, edging closer to a plump fish that lay close to the rock. When he thought he was near enough, he flashed his paw upward as fast as he could.

To his delight, the fish flipped out of the water and landed beside him on the rock. Ripple slammed his paw on top of it and bit down hard. The fish stopped wriggling, and Ripple devoured it in eager mouthfuls.

That’s so good. . . .

But when he had eaten the fish and sat cleaning his whiskers, Ripple still yearned for the grassy comfort of the riverbank. The rocks where he was sitting were bare.
They’re great for snoozing in the sun, but I don’t want to live here.
The shady spot under the willow tree looked like a perfect place to hide and hunt.
This place is beautiful,
he realized,
even though it’s nothing like the Park I came from.

Ripple stared across the channel, waving his tail in indecision. He had managed to swim when he fell down the waterfall, but it was a different matter to actually make the
choice
to jump in.

The sun and earth have protected me all my life,
he thought.
Just like the river has taken care of me, over and over again. It gave me a soft landing when I fell from the wall. It carried me away from the danger that was destroying the Park. It saved me from those fierce creatures, it fed me, and now it has brought me to what could be a wonderful new home. Maybe it will help me to get to the bank, if I can just
trust
it.

Ripple rose to his paws and lifted his head to let out a clear meow. “Thank you, river, for all you’ve done for me. If you can help me again, one last time, and get me to the bank, I will stay beside you and praise you all my life.”

Without giving himself the chance to change his mind, he plunged into the current.

At once, Ripple found that he was swimming strongly. The river bore him up, carrying him to the bank just upstream of the willow tree. Almost before he knew it he felt his paws touch solid ground. He waded out and scrambled up the bank, shaking water from his long, silvery fur.

“What
are
you?” a voice asked. “A water rat?”

Spinning around, Ripple spotted a young black-and-white she-cat watching him from beneath an arching clump of ferns a couple of tail-lengths away. She was staring at him with a stunned expression, but in spite of her amazement her voice was friendly.

Ripple dipped his head toward her. “Greetings,” he mewed. “I’ve come from the Cats of the Park. Will you and your Cats allow me to stay here?”

Amusement glinted in the she-cat’s eyes. “I’m not part of any group of cats,” she told him. “This land belongs to wild cats who hunt alone. You’re welcome to stay here, as long as you don’t steal the prey out from any other cat’s paws.”

“Hunt?” Ripple asked uneasily. He had only hunted a few times before, and only for fun. And he had always been with other cats. “The cats here hunt . . .
alone
?”

Loneliness stabbed through Ripple at the thought. His tail drooped as he remembered Arc and the other Cats of the Park. He had always lived in a group, and an intense sense of loss swept over him like a chill wind through his fur.
What will I do without them? Will I ever see them again?

The she-cat let out a sympathetic purr, as if she understood his sorrow. “Even though we hunt for ourselves,” she meowed, “that doesn’t mean that we can’t hunt with a friend. Would you like to join me today? I’ll introduce you to my brother, and we can all hunt together.”

“Really?” Ripple felt hope rekindle inside him. “Thank you!”

“Maybe we can give you some tips,” the she-cat went on. “And maybe you can show us what a water rat can do.”

“I’d be glad to,” Ripple agreed happily, wondering if these cats knew how to catch fish.

“My name is Night,” the she-cat meowed. “What’s yours?”

Ripple looked back at the river flowing by. It had given him food and protected him from his enemies, and he had to believe it was still protecting him and taking him where he was meant to be.

I’m not the young Cat of the Park anymore,
he realized.
Not really. I’m something else now, something more—a Cat of the River. And I should honor my protector.

“I’m River,” he told Night. “River Ripple.”