Tailchaser’s Song

The party whooped with glee when he was done. Overheated, he ran off to roll in a small snowdrift.

Squeakerbane-who, despite himself, had enjoyed Snaremouse's dance-rose and stretched. One of the Firsthome cats called out for him to tell a story. The rest of the assembly agreed, and pressed him for a tale.

"Very well," the Thane said, closing his eyes in thought for a moment, "a story I shall give you. Do not take offense if I tell you that we prefer stories with a little less fluff and a little more bone, we First-walkers." Opening his eyes, Squeakerbane shook his scarred, bristly body and sat back on his haunches.

"What your esteemed Prince Consort, Dewtreader, said about Ninebirds and his deformed progeny has put me in mind of something. Do you all know how M'an, the servant, and Aziri'le, the Folk, first fell out? It is an old story-but not much told around the Court, I'll warrant."

None but Fencewalker and one or two of the older toms had ever heard of this tale. The Prince said he could not remember how it went.

"Ah, but we First-walkers make a practice of remembering things like this," said Squeakerbane with a brief smile.

"In the wildness Always walking Passed Lord Firefoot Lone and homeless…"

he chanted in a singsong voice.

"Many seasons Forth from Firsthome Had he traveled Seeking, searching

In the wastelands Under strange skies Where the Folk Had never wandered."

After a pause, the Thane began his narrative.

"In the time of Prince Strongclaw, in the long and felicitous reign of Queen Windruffle, our Lord Firefoot hunted deep into the farthest reaches of Southern Rootwood, He had been many winters in the wild, and had seen no Folk for many a season-turn. He had run with the Visl, wrestled with the ponderous Garrin and raced the fleet Praere. He missed the company of his own kind, but he had vowed never to return to the Court of his father until Whitewind was avenged.

"One afternoon he met another cat walking on the edge of Rootwood-the most beautiful of the Folk he had ever seen:

"Tail like summer Warmly waving Finest fur In the breezes blowing

Clear of eye

And lithe of paw-step

Like a spirit

For Lord Firefoot.

"The beautiful one was the color of grain swaying in the broad fields beyond the Qu'cef; as soft and downy as the doudcats over Sunsnest.

" 'What is your name, lovely one?' asked Lord Firefoot.

" 'My name is Windflower,' replied the newcomer in a voice as sweet as a tiny stream. 'Who are you?'

" 'Do you not know me?' asked the Firstborn. 'I am Tangaloor Firefoot, child of Goldeneye and Skydancer, hunter and wanderer of the First Blood!'

" That sounds nice,' said Windflower, raising a wonderfully tapered paw. 'Would you like to walk with me awhile?'

"Lord Firefoot was overcome with admiration for the beauteous Windflower, and they walked together.

"Long they wandered Leaping, laughing Firefoot and The soft Windflower.

Most enraptured Was the Firstborn Till he learned The dreadful story.

" 'Windflower, do you have many brothers in your home?' asked Firefoot after a while.

" 'No, I live in a dwelling of M'an. No other Folk share my nest.'

" That is odd, then, because I scent a strange torn-although very faintly. Could we be followed?' Firefoot looked inquiringly about as he padded along on his fiery red paws.

" 'I do not think so,' spoke Windflower sweetly. 'You are the only torn-besides myself-that I have seen all day.'

"Lord Tangaloor whirled about, stu

" 'Oh,' said Windflower, embarrassed. 'I suppose it is because of what the M'an-folk did to me.'

"Startled Firefoot Hard did gaze, then Saw the truth of Windflower's speaking

All his tomhood Had been taken, Changed he had been To half-fela.

" 'M'an!!!' howled Lord Firefoot. Treacherous brood of Ninebirds! They have defiled the Folk! I shall be revenged upon them all, someday!' So saying, he ran into the forest, departing forever the crippled Windflower.

"So spoke Firefoot, Cursed the Big Ones, Out-of-sun They are forever.

You the servants

Them masters - Truf-Folk, Vr’rr are vanquished.

"And so the First-walkers, by the word of our Lord Firefoot, never will walk in the shadow of M'an."

Squeakerbane, having finished his story, lay down again between Furscuff and Fencewalker. There was a moment's strained silence, and then the Prince spoke.

"Well, now, I've never held much with those stretched, hairless folk myself. Quite a story, quite a story."

Everyone relaxed, and many of the group congratulated Squeakerbane on his tale. More riddles and songs followed, and eventually even the overexcited Pouncequick was tired enough to fall asleep.

Fritti, too, his head full of Hushpad and Firefoot and red claws, finally crossed the borders of the dream-fields. The furry tangle of Folk drowsed and grumbled away the waning Hour of Final Dancing.

The Hour of Smaller Shadows found the travelers descending to the Rootwood fence, the final stand of conifers and aspens that separated the ancient forest from the bluffs overlooking the Hararscrape canyon. Here the Prince's party would establish their border watch, and the others would go their own ways. The sun shone brightly, although the weather was chill.

Stopping at the fence, they could see the sparsely foliaged flatlands-shrouded in the merest sprinkling of snow-stretching away before them to the edge of the mighty canyon.

Turning to the First-walkers Squeakerbane and Furscuff, Prince Fencewalker bobbed his head in farewell. "Well met and good dancing, Thane," he said. "Be sure to see me first when the Thane-meet is finished-before wasting your news on those old sit-on-tails back at the Court. Know that I, for one, will value your words."

"Many thanks to you, O Prince," said Squeakerbane gravely. 'It is good to know that true hearts still beat in the ancient home of our Folk." The First-walker looked over to Tailchaser and his two companions. "These three Furscuff and I will accompany for a short while-until our paths separate. Go in the watchfulness of our Lord Firefoot, Fencewalker." He and Furscuff then moved a respectful distance apart as Fritti, Pouncequick and Roofshadow came forward to say their farewells.

On the verge of departure into the unknown but seemingly ill-starred territories, Tailchaser found himself reluctant to part company with Fencewalker. He knew he would miss the bluff, warmhearted Prince very much. When he tried to speak, no words came forth, and he had to pretend to dislodge a burr from his tail while Roofshadow stepped forward and thanked Fencewalker for his aid.

"Good dancing, Prince," added Pouncequick. "I saw ever so many fascinating things at Firsthome that I will always remember. You've been wonderful to us."

"Pounce speaks for me, also," said Fritti quietly. "We owe you much."

Fencewalker laughed. "Marsh mud! I'm in your debt, also-for information about the E'a-ward territories, if nothing else. Stay out of trouble, and that will be my reward."

The others in Fencewalker's party crowded forward now, and said their raucous farewells. As Tailchaser and the others walked away, Fritti found his words and called back to the Prince.

"Prince Fencewalker! You, also-keep yourself safe and happy!"

"Not to worry, little friend!" boomed the hunter. "I walked these borders before I was old enough to be Named. You need have no fear for us!"

The Prince and his band disappeared back into the outskirts of the forest.

The sun was low in the sky as the five cats picked their way down the sloping plains.

Squeakerbane, with help from Furscuff, was describing the terrain that they could expect to find ahead. "Actually," he was saying, "you need to proceed north, rather than in the direction we're going now, if you want to get across the Hararscrape. That way lies the ford. But I think you should come with us a bit farther, just to see Grumbleroar. It is worth the extra half-day, and not really very far out of your path."