Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

Gray Wing dragged his attention back to the hollow.

The bare branches of the four oaks showed dark above the rim. Beyond them the sun sank toward the distant horizon, burning orange in a pale blue sky. Gray Wing could feel dew gathering on his fur.

He shook it out and shivered.

Below, the great boulder rose at one end of the hollow. Was Fern there already?

He padded forward and nosed his way down the bracken-covered slope. Slowing as he neared the bottom, he narrowed his eyes and scanned the clearing.

He stiffened as he spotted Fern’s black pelt. She was crossing the clearing, her belly close to the earth, her stumpy tail twitching excitedly. She was stalking something.

Gray Wing tasted the air. There was no sign of Slash’s scent. And Fern’s attention was focused on her quarry.

Had she just come here to hunt?

His pelt prickled with hope. This was his chance to talk to her and find out why Slash had sent her to spy on his campmates. Ducking low, he slid through the last few stalks of bracken and padded softly into the clearing.

Fern was watching the grass at the far edge. She lowered her chin and waggled her hindquarters, so intent on her prey that she didn’t twitch an ear as Gray Wing crept across the clearing toward her.

“Fern?”

The black rogue spun with a hiss. Fear flashed in her eyes and she reared, unsheathing her claws.

“I’m not here to fight.” Gray Wing stopped a tail-length away. He could smell her fear-scent.

“What do you want?” Fern eyed him warily.

“Don’t you recognize me?” Gray Wing circled her, giving her a wide berth. Fern dropped onto all fours and turned, keeping her gaze fixed on him. “Why should I?”

“You’ve been spying on us for the past half-moon,” Gray Wing told her.

Fern’s eyes widened with horror. “You’re one of the cats from the forest!”

Gray Wing rolled his eyes. She wasn’t much of a spy. “Haven’t you even learned our scent yet?”

The fur lifted along Fern’s spine. “All I can smell in that place is sap and stagnant water.”

Up close, her pelt looked dull, so thin that ribs showed beneath. She’s half-starved. “It must be hard to find prey in such a stench,” he commented.

She backed away. “I’m just not used to hunting alone. And prey is scarce since the sickness.”

“Did Slash usually hunt for you?” Gray Wing watched her gaze, seeing fear flash sharper as he mentioned Slash’s name.

“He helped,” she said defensively. “So what?”

“But now he’s left you alone,” Gray Wing pressed. “You look pretty hungry.”

Her eyes glittered. “I wouldn’t if you hadn’t interrupted me. I was about to make a kill!” She glanced ruefully at the grass. “My mouse has probably gone by now.”

Gray Wing flicked his gaze along her skinny flanks. “You look like you need more than a mouse.”

Fern lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself!”

“I can help you hunt,” Gray Wing offered. “Like Slash used to.”

Fern narrowed her eyes. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re starving.”

Fern stared at him.

“Slash is a bully,” Gray Wing went on. “He’s no better than One Eye.”

“How do you know Slash?” Fern asked suspiciously.

“I saw him talking to you, on the moor.”

Fern seemed to shrink beneath her pelt.

“You shouldn’t let him push you around,” Gray Wing told her.

“What else am I supposed to do?” she wailed. “If I don’t do as he says, he’ll kill me.”

Gray Wing padded slowly closer. “It doesn’t seem fair. He’s left you to starve.” He jerked his muzzle toward the empty clearing. “I don’t see him looking out for you. What if I was a dangerous cat? You look too weak to fight. And you’re lucky you made it through Clear Sky’s territory unnoticed—my brother doesn’t think much of spies.”

“I didn’t have any choice!” she snapped. Her gaze darkened suddenly. “You won’t tell Slash you’ve seen me, will you?”

“Why would I talk to Slash?” Gray Wing asked, leaning closer.

Fern backed away, trembling.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” Did this cat believe all toms were as bad as Slash and One Eye?

“Then leave me alone!” Hissing, she batted a weak paw toward him.

Gray Wing easily ducked out of the way. “You need food. You’re as weak as a newborn kit. Wait here while I hunt.” He hurried across the clearing and dived into the long grass at the far side.

Opening his mouth, he tasted for prey, his tail-tip flicking excitedly as he caught a musky scent.

Sniffing his way along its trail, he saw the bracken twitch in front of him.

He dropped into a crouch. A small, brown shape moved between the stems. It was rooting among the fallen leaves. Mouse! Bunching up his hind legs, he leaped and slammed his paws onto the startled creature. It fell limp beneath him, giving up without a struggle. Quickly, he nipped its spine and carried it back to Fern, who was crouching in the clearing where he had left her. She hadn’t tried to escape.

She really must be as frail as she looks.

He dropped the mouse at her paws. “Eat this.”

As Fern gobbled it down, the scent of mouse blood touched Gray Wing’s nose. His belly rumbled.

He hadn’t eaten today.

As the last morsel disappeared, Fern licked her lips and sat up. “What’s your name?”

Gray Wing stared at her. “It’s Gray Wing.”

“Thank you, Gray Wing,” she said. She looked down for a moment, then back up at him.

Gray Wing shrugged. “I need you to do something for me in return.”

Her eyes flashed with fear. “What?”

“Try to persuade Slash he’s wasting his time with us,” he told her.

“How?” she frowned.

“I don’t know.” Frustration itched beneath his pelt. “Tell him that we’ve made a strong camp.

That we’re dangerous. That he’d never win a fight with us.” Gray Wing gazed at her. “Just convince him.”

Fern tipped her head. “Slash would never believe there are cats he couldn’t beat,” she muttered bitterly. Her eyes suddenly lit up. “But I might be able to distract him.”

Gray Wing leaned closer. “Distract him?”

“I could tell him you’ve been hunting beyond the pines. Once he hears you’ve found a fresh, new source of prey, he’ll want to see it for himself—he’s always been greedy.”

“How will that help?” Gray Wing narrowed his eyes.

“It’ll give you time to prepare,” Fern told him. “He’s going to make his attack soon. You need to make your camp as strong as you can, and practice fighting. When Slash comes, he won’t come alone.”

Gray Wing shivered, dread hollowing his belly. Slash sounded just like One Eye. “What about you?” This scrawny rogue could hardly hunt for herself.

“I’ll be okay,” she promised.

“You should stay here for a day or two,” Gray Wing suggested. “You don’t need to spy on us anymore, and there’s prey here. Catch as much as you can and grow strong.”

Fern nodded. “I will.”

Gray Wing searched her gaze. Could he trust this she-cat to keep her word? Did she have the courage to lie to Slash and send him searching beyond the pines for prey that didn’t exist?

She stared back at him, hope glistening in her gaze.

He realized he had no choice but to trust her. “Good luck.”

Turning, he padded to the slope and headed toward the moor. He wanted one last look at it before he returned to the pines. He wove between the brambles and climbed over the top. The moor was bathed in evening sunshine. Above, the sky was streaked purple as the sun slid behind the trees. Gray Wing padded across the grass, which felt soft after the needle-strewn floor of the forest. A brisk, chilly wind lifted his fur and pricked at his flesh. Breathing deeply, he drew in the familiar fragrance of heather and stone.