Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

Gray Wing padded forward and nuzzled the kit’s head. “It was a long, hard journey.”

“I want to make a journey like that one day,” Dust Muzzle exclaimed. “I want to go farther than I can see.”

Moth Flight stared at her brother. “Leave your home ?” She turned to her mother. “We should stay here and defend what’s ours, shouldn’t we?” Her eyes flashed fiercely.

Wind Runner lifted her chin proudly. “Yes.”

Gorse Fur padded into camp. “Minnow’s gone hunting,” he announced. “She found a fresh rabbit trail. I might follow her and help.”

Wind Runner stood and stretched, curving her spine until her tail trembled. “I’ll come with you.”

“When do we get to hunt?” Moth Flight asked.

“You’ve had plenty of excitement for one day.” Wind Runner shooed her daughter away with her tail.

Reed lifted his head and gazed across the clearing. “Come and soak up some sunshine with me,” he called to the kits.

“That’s boring,” Dust Muzzle complained.

“Let’s play hunt the mouse!” Moth Flight screwed her eyes shut. “Quick, hide while I’m not looking.”

“Don’t leave the camp, you two!” Wind Runner ordered as Dust Muzzle wormed his way between the stems of the heather wall. She glanced at Gray Wing. “You’ll stay awhile, won’t you? I’d hate for you to leave while we’re gone.”

Gray Wing tipped his head. “I don’t know. Pebble Heart will be missing me.”

“He’ll be fine. He must be full-grown by now.” Wind Runner glanced at Slate. “You’ll persuade him, won’t you?”

Before Slate could answer, Wind Runner darted into the heather tunnel after Gorse Fur.

Gray Wing tucked his paws closer. The meal had made him sleepy and the scratches on his neck ached. “I should really be getting home,” he murmured halfheartedly.

“Do as Wind Runner asks,” Slate urged. “Stay and rest. Just for a while.”

Gray Wing gazed at her through half-closed eyes. It was cozy here, and the old scents of the moor mingled with Slate’s warm fragrance. He yawned. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a little nap before I leave.”

Clear Sky hung his chin over the edge of the branch and gazed at the camp below. Satisfaction washed beneath his pelt as he watched his cats. Acorn Fur lay in the weak leaf-bare sunshine that filtered through the branches, while Birch and Alder batted the tip of her tail between them. Every now and then she whisked it up into the air, and one of the young cats jumped for it, purring loudly.

Nettle and Thorn shared tongues among the roots of the beech, while Owl Eyes and Sparrow Fur picked through the prey pile.

Sparrow Fur pawed a mouse from the top and lifted her tail proudly as a small shrew showed beneath. She stepped away and eyed her campmates hopefully.

Cloud Spots crossed the clearing toward her. “What’s fresh?”

“This shrew.” Sparrow Fur nodded toward it.

“Did you catch it?” Cloud Spots’s eyes twinkled.

Owl Eyes snorted. “You know she did! She’s been boasting about it since we got back from hunting.”

Cloud Spots licked his lips. “I love shrew.”

Owl Eyes hooked out a mangy starling. “What about something with feathers?”

Sparrow Fur glared at him. “He wants my prey, not yours.” She nudged her shrew toward Cloud

Spots, who took it and carried it to the beech, where he settled beside Nettle and Thorn.

“ I’d like the starling,” Pink Eyes called from the holly bush where he was sunning himself beside

Quick Water.

Quick Water raised her head. “Can I share it with you?”

Pink Eyes sat up. “Of course.”

Owl Eyes picked up the starling in his jaws and bounded across the clearing. He dropped it at Pink Eyes’s paws. “Sorry it’s a bit scrawny.”

“It’s leaf-bare.” Pink Eyes shrugged. “I’m happy we have any prey.”

Owl Eyes glanced toward the bramble wall. “Blossom’s patrol will be back soon. They’ll have more.”

Quick Water sniffed the starling. “This will be enough for us.”

Clear Sky could see beyond the brambles from his perch in the oak tree. There was no sign of Blossom’s patrol. He’d sent her out with Lightning Tail just after dawn. He’d sent Leaf out with Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes a little later, and Leaf had already gone back out again to gather moss.

Two hunting patrols should bring back enough prey to feed all the hungry bellies in camp.

He peered beneath the yew. Where were Milkweed and her kits? They’d seemed so frail when they’d arrived that he’d given them Birch and Alder’s cozy nest, tucked deep under the dark, green branches. Birch and Alder had happily made new nests in a gap in the brambles.

As he searched the shadows, two pairs of eyes flashed beneath the bush. Milkweed’s ginger-and-black pelt moved behind them. Clear Sky had found them on his border. His heart had ached to see them. The kits looked as scrawny as Fluttering Bird had been, while Milkweed had the same haunted look that used to darken Quiet Rain’s eyes. He’d invited them to join his group even before Milkweed asked. But when she had given him Gray Wing’s message, he’d felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps his brother was seeing sense in bringing all cats together after all.

A twinge of regret tugged at Clear Sky’s belly. If only the other cats understood. They could be here now. More hunters would mean more food. Everyone would be safe, just as Fluttering Bird wanted.

Leaf-bare will be here for moons. It had brought him Milkweed, Thistle, and Clover. More hard frosts and snowfalls might help the moor cats and river cats realize they could not survive alone. And the pine forest might not turn out to be the prey-rich home Tall Shadow had dreamed of. They’ll see sense eventually.

Star Flower’s golden pelt caught his eye. She slid out from behind the oak and skirted the edge of the clearing. Stopping beside the yew, she stooped to look under the branches. “Hi, you two.” There was a teasing purr in her mew as she called to Thistle and Clover. “Who wants to race me to the prey pile?”

Thistle and Clover scrambled eagerly into the light.

“There’s prey?” Clover blinked.

“I told you I smelled mouse,” Thistle told his sister.

“Milkweed said we shouldn’t take prey unless it’s offered.” Clover’s eyes were wide with worry.

Star Flower lifted her tail. “I’m offering.”

Clear Sky snorted. Star Flower was acting as though it was her prey to give away! She’d hardly been here longer than the kits. She hadn’t even been on the hunting patrol that had brought it back. She had lost none of her arrogance.

“Line up next to me,” she told the kits as she crouched. “When I twitch my ear, run . The first cat to the prey pile gets first pick of the prey.”

Thistle and Clover huddled beside her, their short tails flicking with excitement.

Milkweed squeezed out behind them. “Don’t pick the best prey,” she warned. “The hunters should get it.”

Star Flower flashed her a look. “Don’t teach them to take less than they deserve. They need to grow strong—one day, they’ll be hunters.”

Milkweed glanced around the camp, her gaze flicking nervously over the other cats. “I guess.”

She clearly did not feel comfortable depending on others for her food.

Star Flower twitched her ear, and Thistle and Clover sped away, their small paws pattering over the cold earth. Star Flower trotted after them, arriving a few paces behind as they skidded to a halt beside the prey pile.