Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

“We were not!” Eagle Feather puffed out his chest.

Mouse Ear purred. “Go and put it on the prey pile, Storm Pelt.” He nodded toward the empty patch at the edge of the clearing. “Though it’s not much of a pile right now.”

Gray Wing flicked his tail. “We should send out a hunting party.”

Mouse Ear met his gaze. “Do you want me to go?”

“Take Holly and Jagged Peak with you,” Gray Wing told him.

“I can go too,” Slate offered.

Tall Shadow stepped in front of the moor cat, her tail twitching with annoyance. “Jagged Peak and Holly are busy right now. And Slate has her own group to hunt for.” Her angry gaze scorched Gray Wing’s pelt.

He tipped his head, puzzled. “But the prey pile’s empty. Jagged Peak and Holly can work on their den later. And Slate has hunted here for seasons. She can show them the best places to find prey.”

Jagged Peak’s gray fur flashed at the corner of his vision.

“What’s going on?” The tom padded confidently toward them.

“Gray Wing’s organizing hunting parties,” Tall Shadow growled, straightening up. “I don’t think it’s your place to make such decisions.”

Gray Wing bristled. “Mouse Ear offered,” he pointed out. “I just didn’t think it was safe for him to hunt alone.”

Jagged Peak lifted his chin. “Tall Shadow’s right,” he meowed. “You gave up leadership. You can’t try to take it back now.”

Shock flashed through Gray Wing’s pelt. “I wasn’t—”

Tall Shadow huffed. “You’ve been giving orders ever since you returned to camp!”

Gray Wing blinked at her. “I’m only trying to help.”

“I’m leader here!” Tall Shadow snapped. “I brought us to this place.”

“But…” Words dried on Gray Wing’s tongue. He knew how much coming here had meant to Tall Shadow. He’d supported her decision and come to help her build a safe home. He’d spent every day watching out for Fern and Slash. He just wanted to keep his campmates safe.

“I’m sorry, Gray Wing.” Tall Shadow’s mew softened. “But you’ve looked after the cats long enough. You’re not as strong as you used to be.”

She thinks I’m weak! Gray Wing lashed his tail as she went on.

“It’s time you let stronger cats take charge. You’re not our leader anymore.”

“I’m just as strong as any cat!” Gray Wing hissed. “How dare you say—” He stopped. A familiar scent was drifting through the brambles. His pelt bushed.

Fern!

He pricked his ears and heard pine needles swish beyond the camp wall.

That rogue is spying on us.

He raced for the camp entrance.

“Gray Wing?” Slate called after him.

“Don’t go!” Tall Shadow’s mew was sharp with worry. “I was only thinking of your health.”

Gray Wing flattened his ears as he scraped through the bramble tunnel, opening his mouth to taste the air. It was definitely Fern. He scanned the shadowy forest floor. A dark shape darted past a pine tree and ducked into a clump of bracken. The mouse-hearted rogue was running away.

Gray Wing raced after her, hackles raised. Tall Shadow had no idea about the dangers lurking in their new home. I’ll show her that I’m not too weak to protect my campmates!

Which way had Fern gone, Gray Wing wondered. The rogue’s scent was still fresh, but he’d lost sight of her. He strained to see between the shadowy pines, stiffening as he spotted movement ahead.

Moving quietly over the pine needles, he followed. The black she-cat was weaving between the trees. It would be easy to catch up. Then he could drag her back to camp and show Tall Shadow that he wasn’t too weak to look after his campmates.

Gray Wing frowned. Why wasn’t Fern running? Hadn’t she realized she was being followed?

Curiosity itched beneath his fur. What was the rogue up to?

Dropping low, he kept to the shadows, treading as lightly as prey.

Weak sunlight seeped into the forest ahead. Gray Wing felt the faint rumble of a monster shake the ground. They were approaching the Thunderpath where it sliced through the trees, separating the pine forest and Clear Sky’s woods. Fern’s pelt showed against green as she slid out onto the side of the Thunderpath. Gray Wing paused and peered between the trees.

Fern crouched at the side of the Thunderpath, scanning the dark trail. A monster growled, its wide white flank flickering beyond the trees as it neared. Gray Wing curled his claws into the earth, his heart quickening as Fern darted onto the Thunderpath. The monster’s eyes glinted in the sunlight. It was nearly on top of her.

Watch out! Gray Wing held his breath as Fern pelted across the dark stone. She leaped for the far side a moment before the monster thundered past.

Gray Wing raced forward and peered from the trees just in time to see Fern’s tail whip past an oak into shadow. A howl pierced his ear fur. The ground shook beneath his paws. Gray Wing froze as another monster roared a tail-length from his nose. Wind whistled in its wake. Grit spattered his flank. His chest tightened as its bitter stench swirled around him.

As the monster thundered away, Gray Wing raced across the Thunderpath. Blood pounded in his ears as he leaped for the edge and plunged through a clump of bracken. Stopping, he caught his breath.

Would he ever get used to the Thunderpath?

The stench of the monster fading behind him, he forced his hackles down and scanned the forest.

The musty scent of fallen leaves filled his nose. Which way had Fern gone? He scouted between the roots of an oak. There! Her paws had passed this way. Nose low, he followed her trail.

The rogue cat had veered toward the edge of the wood, clearly making sure to avoid Clear Sky’s camp. Was she heading for the moor to meet Slash?

Roots arched from the ground. Brambles spilled from between trunks. Gray Wing picked his way past them, dodging to avoid prickly stems. Fern was following a zigzagging trail, but she was staying inside the tree line. Gray Wing paused. Why hadn’t she broken cover and headed onto the moor? He could see its grassy slopes beyond the trees. Wasn’t that where she’d last spoken to Slash?

He frowned. Her path was heading toward the four trees. Was Slash meeting her there?

Gray Wing pushed on, ears pricked. He stumbled over a root, grimacing as pain shot through his paw. Thorns snagged his pelt as he staggered against a bramble. He decided to cross the moor to the four trees—it might be farther, but it would be easier that way.

He swerved and headed for the slope beyond the trees, ducking out of the woods and pushing through bracken. As his paws touched smooth grass, wind billowed through his fur. It filled his chest, clean and cold, its rich peaty scent so familiar he felt dizzy with joy. He bounded up the slope and skirted the heather toward the four trees. He moved quickly here. The ground blurred beneath his paws; air filled his chest. His heartbeat quickened and his whiskers streamed against his cheeks. As the slope steepened toward the top of the hollow, Gray Wing slowed. In the woods below, Fern would be picking her way through the undergrowth. He crossed the final stretch of grass to the rim of the hollow and gazed back across the moor. There was the dip—no more than a cloud shadow—where the hollow lay.

Was it still deserted? Were other creatures sheltering there now?

He narrowed his eyes, wondering if he could see Wind Runner’s small camp. But the heather clearing where she’d made her home was hidden between the dips and rises of the moor. She had chosen well.