Into the Wild Read Online Free PDF Page B

head of the clearing.
    â€œHe came,” Bluestar purred, addressing the warriors.
    Whitestorm replied, “Lionheart was convinced he would not.”
    Rusty noticed the tip of Bluestar’s tail twitch impatiently. “Well, what do you think of him?” she asked.
    â€œHe kept up well on the return journey, despite his puny size,” Whitestorm admitted. “He certainly seems strong for a kittypet.”
    â€œSo it is agreed?” Bluestar looked at Lionheart and Whitestorm.
    Both cats nodded.
    â€œThen I shall announce his arrival to the Clan.” Bluestar leaped up onto the boulder and yowled, “Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting.”
    Her clear call brought all the cats trotting toward her, emerging like liquid shadows from the edges of the clearing. Rusty stayed where he was, flanked by Lionheart 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 him sat a young tortoiseshellqueen, her black-tipped tail tucked neatly over small white paws. A large dark gray tabby crouched behind them, the black stripes on his fur looking like shadows on a moonlit forest floor.
    When the cats were still, Bluestar spoke. “ThunderClan needs more warriors,” she began. “Never before have we had so few apprentices in training. It has been decided that ThunderClan will take in an outsider to train as a warrior. . . . ”
    Rusty heard indignant mutterings erupt among the Clan cats, but Bluestar silenced them with a firm yowl. “I have found a cat who is willing to become an apprentice of ThunderClan.”
    â€œ Lucky to become an apprentice,” caterwauled a loud voice above the ripple of shock that spread through the cats.
    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. “Lionheart and Whitestorm have met this young cat, and they agree with me that we should train him with the other apprentices.”
    Rusty looked up at Lionheart, then back at the Clan, to find all eyes were on him now. 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 crescendo of caterwauling rose from the crowd.
    â€œWhere does he come from?”
    â€œWhich Clan does he belong to?”
    â€œWhat a strange scent he carries! That’s not the scent of any Clan I know!”
    Then one yowl in particular sounded out above the rest. “Look at his collar! He’s a kittypet!” It was the pale tabby again. “Once a kittypet, always a kittypet. This Clan needs wildborn warriors to defend it, not another soft mouth to feed.”
    Lionheart bent down and hissed into Rusty’s ear, “That tabby is Longtail. He smells your fear. They all do. You must prove to him and the other cats that your fear won’t hold you back.”
    But Rusty couldn’t move. How could he ever prove to these fierce cats that he wasn’t just a kittypet?
    The tabby continued to jeer at him. “Your collar is a mark of the Twolegs, and that noisy jingling will make you a poor hunter at best. At worst, it will bring the Twolegs into our territory, looking for the poor lost kittypet who fills the woods with his pitiful tinkling.”
    All the cats howled in agreement.
    Longtail went on, well aware that he had the support of his audience. “The noise of your treacherous bell will alert our enemies, even if your Twoleg stench doesn’t!”
    Lionheart hissed into Rusty’s ear once more: “Do you back down from a challenge?”
    Rusty still did not move. But this time he was trying to pinpoint Longtail’s