Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

He hurried back to Gray Wing and dropped it onto the damp ground. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt better.” The pain was gone but Gray Wing’s chest was still tight. He was relieved to see the coltsfoot. Crouching, he began to chew on the leaf stalk, its familiar bitter tang bursting over his tongue.

“I’ll bring one to your nest every morning,” Pebble Heart promised.

“I’ll come and get it,” said Gray Wing, with a jerk of his nose. Irritation prickled in his belly. He knew Pebble Heart was only trying to help, but he hated being treated like an invalid. Was this how

Jagged Peak felt when the cats made allowances for his lameness?

Pebble Heart shrugged. “Okay.”

Gray Wing chewed another mouthful of coltsfoot and, feeling his chest loosen, sat up. He nodded toward the small hole under the bramble that Pebble Heart had gotten the leaf from. Beside it was Pebble Heart’s nest, hardly more than a heap of pine twigs lined with moss. “You must be cold sleeping there,” he observed. “We should build you a den.”

“I’m no colder than any other cat.” Pebble Heart pointed his muzzle toward the nests dotted around the edge of the clearing, twig piles like his own. Gray Wing’s lay beside Tall Shadow’s, a few tail-lengths from Mud Paws’s and Mouse Ear’s. Holly and Jagged Peak had made a large nest on the other side of the clearing where they could wrap themselves around their kits and keep them warm.

Gray Wing narrowed his eyes. “If we unravel the longest bramble stems and pull them away from the bush, we could use them to weave shelters around our nests.”

Holly pricked her ears and padded closer. “That’s a good idea,” she meowed. “I worry about the next snowfall. There’s no broom of gorse here to shelter under.”

Pebble Heart met her anxious gaze. “I was planning on digging out earth beneath the brambles. I thought I could hollow out a den that way.”

“Yes!” Gray Wing felt excitement rushing beneath his pelt as his breathing returned to normal.

“We could dig sleeping hollows and weave bramble stems over them. The sooner we make this camp into a real home, the better.”

“Great!” Holly nodded eagerly. “Which side of the clearing do you think would be the most sheltered for the kits?”

He didn’t need to taste the air to know where the coldest wind blew—he’d spent enough nights shivering in his nest. He nodded toward the far end of the camp. “The bramble wall over there will keep off the leaf-bare breezes.” He lifted his nose toward a hole high in the canopy. Weak sunlight filtered through. “And you’ll get sunshine, which will burn off early frosts.”

“Pebble Heart.” Mud Paws limped across the clearing toward the young tom. “I wrenched my shoulder chasing a squirrel yesterday. Do you have anything to ease the stiffness?”

Pride swelled in Gray Wing’s chest to see how the cats were beginning to rely on the young tom for help. He hoped Turtle Tail, up among the spirit cats, could see how important her kit had become to his campmates.

“A comfrey lining in your nest should help,” Pebble Heart told the brown tom. “But I’ll need to go out and search for some. I’ve only collected coltsfoot and nettle so far.”

Go out? For the last half-moon, Pebble Heart and the rest of the cats had stayed close to camp.

But now Gray Wing’s ear twitched with worry. Fern could be out there. Maybe Slash, too. Pebble Heart seemed to sense Gray Wing’s concern, and he glanced at Mud Paws, who instantly gave a nod.

“I’ll come with you,” the brown tom offered. “Four eyes are better than two.”

Relief washed Gray Wing’s pelt. “Stay together,” he warned.

Pebble Heart flashed him a questioning look. “Is something worrying you?”

“No.” Gray Wing meowed quickly. “But we don’t know our new territory yet. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Pebble Heart narrowed his eyes, but Mud Paws was already heading for the entrance.

“We’ll be fine,” he called over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry so much, Gray Wing,” said Pebble Heart with a flick of his tail. “It’s not good for your breathing. We know how to look after ourselves.”

Gray Wing watched Pebble Heart trotting after Mud Paws and tried to ignore the anxiety worming in his belly. He nodded to Holly. “Let’s see if we can start weaving a shelter for your new nest.” He headed toward the far end of camp, Holly at his side.

As he passed Tall Shadow and Jagged Peak, they looked up from their conversation.

“What are you doing?” Jagged Peak eyed Holly.

“Gray Wing’s helping me build a den for the kits.”

Jagged Peak’s fur rippled along his spine as he padded forward. “They’re my kits,” he meowed sharply. “ I’ll build their den.”

Holly moved aside as he pushed between her and Gray Wing. “Gray Wing says this end of the camp will be warmest,” she told him.

Jagged Peak didn’t answer, but began sniffing around the bramble wall.

Gray Wing backed away. If Jagged Peak wanted to take charge, why argue? Dew Nose, Storm

Pelt, and Eagle Feather were his kits.

“Let me know if you need some help,” said Gray Wing, giving Holly a polite nod. Turning, he noticed Tall Shadow gazing at him. She looked uneasy. Before he could ask if anything was wrong, the camp entrance rustled loudly. A familiar scent touched Gray Wing’s nose.

“Slate!”

The amber-eyed moor cat was padding into camp. She dipped her head low to Tall Shadow. “I hope you don’t mind my visiting.”

Tall Shadow padded from the edge of the clearing. “We’re always pleased to see you.”

Gray Wing hurried toward Slate. “How are Wind Runner and the kits?”

“They get bigger every day!” Slate purred. “They’re desperate to explore outside the camp, but Wind Runner won’t let them.” She lowered her voice. “I think Gorse Fur thinks a little fresh air will use up some of their energy, but Wind Runner just sticks out her tail and frowns. There’s no arguing with her.”

Gray Wing’s whiskers twitched with amusement. Wind Runner had always been certain she knew best. It made her a fierce mother, but a strong one. The kits were lucky to have her.

“Why don’t you come and visit?”

“The moor?” Slate’s question took Gray Wing by surprise. He imagined the fresh wind rippling through his fur and pictured the wide-open expanse of heather and peat. His heart ached to be back there, but he shook his head. “I can’t leave my campmates. Not while we’re still settling in.”

“Not even for a short while?” Slate gazed at him softly. “You haven’t met Reed and Minnow yet.

You’d like them.” Reed and Minnow were rogues who had joined Wind Runner’s group at the end of leaf-fall.

Longing tugged in Gray Wing’s chest.

Tall Shadow flicked her tail. “Why don’t you go, Gray Wing? We can manage without you.”

Gray Wing shook his head. Perhaps if he hadn’t overheard Slash and Fern, he’d go with Slate, just for a day. But he couldn’t leave his friends when he knew that danger was stalking among the shadowy pines.

Mewling sounded outside the camp. Smalls paws pattered over the forest floor.

“Let me help carry it!” Dew Nose’s mew sounded indignant.

The brambles rustled and Storm Pelt charged into camp. His eyes shone as the lizard dangled from his jaws. Eagle Feather and Dew Nose burst in after him.

“I would have found it first,” Dew Nose squeaked. “But Eagle Feather kept getting in the way.”

Mouse Ear padded after them. He nodded to Gray Wing. “Storm Pelt just followed your scent trail and went straight to it, while these two were running around in circles.”