Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

Thistle clamped his mouth shut and leaped. He sailed across the clearing and landed neatly, a muzzle-length from Birch. Purring loudly, he looked at the ginger tom. “How was that?”

“You’re going to be a great hunter,” Birch told him proudly.

Clover snorted and dropped onto her belly again, tucking her hind paws tightly beneath her.

Grunting with effort, she leaped. This time, she landed skillfully, controlling her skid as her paws hit the wet earth. She blinked at Alder. “Better?”

“Much!” Alder congratulated the kit.

Owl Eyes sniffed. “I still think you should be teaching them how to stalk, not to jump.”

Alder glanced at the gray tom. “Clear Sky asked us to train them, not you.”

Birch joined his sister. “You’re just in a bad mood because he chose Sparrow Fur for the second hunting patrol.”

Owl Eyes flattened his ears. “I hunt better than she does in the rain,” he muttered. “Sparrow Fur doesn’t like getting her paws wet.” He stalked across the clearing and curled down among the roots of the beech, his pelt spiked from the rain. Miserably, he shoved his nose under his paw and closed his eyes.

I should be out on patrol, Thunder thought, tearing his gaze away to scan the camp. Where was Clear Sky?

He recognized Cloud Spots’s voice beneath the yew.

“Chew these leaves, Milkweed.”

Thunder’s nose twitched at the smell of tansy.

“It’s just a slight sickness in your chest,” Cloud Spots was saying. “The leaves should clear it.

Send Clover for more if you still feel bad later.”

The long-furred black tom came out from beneath the yew and padded to the short, steep bank beyond the oak. Brambles spilled over the muddy overhang beside the hollow where Clear Sky made his nest. They smelled like a pungent meadow. Cloud Spots slid behind them. He’d been collecting herbs for days and stashing them among the prickly stems.

“Thunder!” Clover called to him. “Watch me jump!”

Thunder looked as she crouched and leaped across the clearing.

He’d been pleased that Clear Sky had taken the starving family in—even happier when he’d heard Milkweed pass on Gray Wing’s message. Perhaps Clear Sky and Gray Wing’s relationship was gently mending. But it was strange that Gray Wing had been on the moor. He’d gone to live among the pines with Tall Shadow. What had driven him back to his old home?

“Well?”

He realized Clover was staring at him expectantly. “Very good,” he told her.

Clover purred. “I can jump as far as Thistle now.”

“No you can’t!” Thistle lifted his tail indignantly.

Birch stepped between the kits. “Why don’t we practice stalking, like Owl Eyes suggested?”

Owl Eyes’s ear twitched, but he didn’t lift his muzzle from beneath his paw.

Thunder caught Birch’s eye. “Where’s Clear Sky?” Perhaps it wasn’t too late to persuade his father to let him join a patrol.

Birch glanced at the branch that overhung the clearing. That was where Clear Sky liked to sit and watch over the camp. It was empty. Birch shrugged. “Perhaps he’s gone to make dirt.”

Thunder padded to the bottom of the oak. His father’s scent was still fresh on the bark, which meant he probably hadn’t gotten far. Thunder leaped up the steep bank and padded over the wet grass beyond. “Clear Sky?” he called.

The bracken at the edge of the camp rustled and Clear Sky slid out. “What is it?”

“I’d like to join one of the hunting patrols,” Thunder told him. “Which way did you send them?

I’m sure I can catch up.”

“I want you to stay here.” Clear Sky marched past him and paused at the edge of the slope.

“Someone needs to watch over the kits.”

“They’ve got you, and Birch and Alder,” Thunder argued. “ And Owl Eyes.”

Clear Sky turned his head. “If you wanted to be on a hunting patrol, you should have woken earlier.”

Was his father punishing him for sleeping late? “I’m sorry. I’m still used to the light on the moor.

In the forest when it’s cloudy, it’s sometimes hard to tell day from night.”

“No other cat here has that problem.” As Clear Sky jumped into the clearing, Lightning Tail and Leaf pushed their way through the camp entrance. Thick wads of moss dangled from their jaws.

Lightning Tail dropped his soft, green bundle. “There’s enough to line two nests here,” he told

Leaf.

Leaf spat out his moss. “We’ll never get it dry in this weather.”

“Let’s spread it out beside the holly,” Lightning Tail suggested. “The ground catches the sun there.

If the clouds clear, it’ll dry in no time.”

Thunder turned to look pleadingly at Clear Sky. “Lightning Tail and Leaf are here now,” he pressed. “Let me go hunting. Even if I don’t catch up with the patrols, I can hunt on my own. It’s leaf-bare. We need all the prey we can get.”

“I need you to stay. I’m going on border patrol.” Clear Sky met his gaze. “Besides, I don’t want cats hunting alone.”

Thunder blinked. “Why not?”

“All prey should be shared,” Clear Sky told him briskly. “If we hunt together, then we will be less tempted to keep our catch to ourselves.”

Thunder bristled. “You don’t trust us?”

Clear Sky lifted his chin. “Of course I do. But it’s my duty as leader to keep you from temptation.”

Thunder glared at him. Why do I keep forgetting how arrogant he is? He didn’t argue. Instead, he lowered his tail obediently. “If you’re going on patrol, let me come with you. You’ve changed the borders so many times, I’m still having trouble telling the old markers from new. Perhaps you could help me.”

This wasn’t true; he could easily tell the difference between a stale scent and a fresh one, but he was desperate to make up for oversleeping. If he flattered Clear Sky, his father might let him join the patrol.

Clear Sky whisked his tail. “If you haven’t learned that by now, you never will,” he grunted. “I’m patrolling alone. Every cat needs solitude from time to time.” Before Thunder could object, he marched toward the bramble entrance. Thunder watched him go, uneasiness worming beneath his pelt.

Clear Sky had never wanted solitude before. Why now?

As his father pushed his way out of camp, Thunder hurried across the clearing toward Lightning Tail.

“I want you to watch the camp,” he whispered quickly.

Lightning Tail was spreading his strips of moss over the wet earth with a paw. “Why?”

“Clear Sky asked me to do it, but I want to follow him.”

Lightning Tail looked up. “Why? Where’s he going?”

“He says he’s going to patrol the borders,” Thunder breathed. “I wanted to come but he’s ordered me to stay in camp.”

Lightning Tail shrugged. “Perhaps he wants to be alone.”

“That’s what he said,” Thunder conceded. “But I’m following him anyway. What if he runs into a fox or a dog?”

Lightning Tail’s whiskers twitched teasingly. “You’re just being nosy.”

“That’s not true,” Thunder snorted.

Lightning Tail straightened up. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“ Now who’s being nosy?” Thunder teased.

Leaf looked up from his scraps of moss. “What are you two whispering about?”

“We need you to guard the camp,” Thunder told him. “We’re going out on patrol.”

Leaf shrugged and smoothed a wide piece of moss with his paw. “Okay.”

Thunder hurried toward the bramble wall, Lightning Tail at his heels. He ducked through the entrance tunnel, his mouth open as he tasted for Clear Sky’s scent.