Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

Thunder caught his friend’s eye. “I thought I was going to be spending the night alone in the forest.”

“Tough,” Lightning Tail purred. “You’re stuck with us.”

Thunder felt a surge of affection for his friend. He’d been relieved when the black tom had stepped forward and offered to go with him. He fell in beside him now, and together they headed up the slope.

As the night deepened, the air grew colder.

“My paws ache,” Owl Eyes muttered as they began to climb yet another slope.

Above, the clouds had cleared to reveal a star-speckled sky, and Thunder could feel frost settling over the woods. He’d lost track of how far they’d come. This part of the forest was unfamiliar: small, bare clearings followed by woodland brambled so thickly that it was hard to find a trail through.

Where could they rest? The clearings were too exposed, the brambles too sharp to burrow beneath.

“Thunder!” Leaf’s call sounded from ahead.

Thunder bounded forward, skidding around Cloud Spots and Milkweed as they nudged the weary kits on.

“Careful!” Leaf cautioned as Thunder neared. “It’s a steep drop.”

Thunder scrambled to a halt, sending a shower of grit spraying ahead of him. He heard it rattle over stone and land far below. Leaf was staring down into shadow, and Thunder followed his gaze.

The land dropped away into a small ravine. Moonlight pooled at the bottom, lighting a clearing ringed by bracken and trees.

Leaf lifted his chin. “Do you think we could get down there?”

Thunder surveyed the cliff. It was rocky, but there were enough ledges and jutting boulders for them all to jump down. “With a little help, even the kits could make it,” he meowed.

Lightning Tail caught them up and gazed into the ravine. “It looks like there’s plenty of shelter.”

Thunder jumped down onto the nearest ledge, relieved to find it solid beneath his paws.

Excitement fizzed in his belly. “Tell the others to hurry,” he called up. They could rest here for the night and explore the area more in the morning. And hunt. His belly rumbled at the thought. The undergrowth was so thick below, there had to be prey.

He led the way down, jumping from ledge to ledge, checking that the others were following each time he stopped. Before long, he landed on soft earth. A wall of prickly gorse blocked his way, and he sniffed along the base as Lightning Tail and Leaf guided Pink Eyes, Cloud Spots, Milkweed, and her kits down the cliff.

Owl Eyes landed clumsily beside him. “This is great!” His round eyes shone in the moonlight.

“It would be if I could find a way past this gorse,” Thunder muttered.

“Here!”

Thunder looked up. Owl Eyes was already squeezing under a gap in the spiny bush. Thunder followed, the thorns scraping his spine. He wriggled out the other side and gazed ahead. Grass circled a bare earth clearing where a large boulder stood, glittering with frost. Brambles and bracken crowded the edge, and trees stood like guards against the forest beyond.

Hope flared in Thunder’s belly. Could this be their new home?

Lightning Tail squeezed from under the gorse. “We can rest for the night over there!” He nodded toward a thick clump of bracken. He crossed the clearing and began to trample the stems until he’d hollowed out a den.

Thistle and Clover burst from beneath the gorse and raced toward the black tom.

“Is this where we’re sleeping?” Clover looked at him with round eyes.

“I want to sleep near the edge so I can listen for foxes,” Thistle announced.

Milkweed nosed her way into the clearing, Cloud Spots and Leaf on her tail.

Pink Eyes followed, tasting the air. “No cat scents here,” he murmured. “Do you think Clear Sky knows about this place?”

“Let’s hope not.” Thunder felt a prickle of worry. In the morning, they would mark new borders and organize hunting patrols. The scent of damp bracken filled his nose. Suddenly he felt tired, his paws like stone.

Leaf was already circling in the den. The black-and-white tom flopped down wearily while

Thistle and Clover huddled on the far side, eyeing him suspiciously.

Milkweed slid in beside them and lay down, curling her tail protectively around them.

Pink Eyes sniffed the edge of the den before settling, while Cloud Spots crouched next to Milkweed, his mouth open to taste the scents of their new home.

“Come on!” Lightning Tail nodded to Thunder from the edge of the den. “You must be exhausted.”

Thunder nodded and followed Pink Eyes across the clearing. He waited for the white tom to pad into the bracken before settling down beside Lightning Tail. His paws were sore from walking, his belly hollow with hunger. His eyes stung with tiredness.

“Should one of us sit guard?” Lightning Tail asked.

“I can do it,” Owl Eyes offered. “I can sit on the cliff top and look out for intruders.”

Leaf’s nose was twitching. “Perhaps we should hunt before we sleep.”

Thunder looked around at the cats huddled together in the shelter of the bracken. “No cat is hunting or guarding,” he told them. “There’s no scent of fox or other cats. We can sleep safely until morning, and then we can hunt.”

Murmurs of agreement stirred around him in the darkness.

One by one, his campmates closed their eyes.

Thunder gazed across the clearing, grateful they’d found shelter for the night. Beside him, Lightning Tail’s breath softened into sleep. Thistle and Clover stopped fidgeting beside Milkweed.

Leaf’s eyes closed, and Cloud Spots began to snore gently.

These were his cats now. Anxiety jabbed in his belly. How can I protect them all?

Thunder gazed at the tall oak, squinting against the sunshine spearing through its branches. He could see a wide gap far up the trunk.

Owl hole?

He climbed over the roots, satisfied when he saw a pellet of bones and fur lying among them. An owl definitely lived here. Prey must be rich in this part of the forest. He padded across the shaded stretch of ground and headed down the slope beyond. It felt good to be hunting alone, away from the responsibilities of the camp. If we hunt together, then we will be less tempted to keep our catch to ourselves. Clear Sky’s words rang in his head. How could his father believe he would eat before the cats in his camp had full bellies?

In the days that had passed since they’d discovered the ravine, they had made more nests among the bracken. The frost that had first come on the night they’d arrived had returned again and again. But sunshine pooled in the small, sheltered spot and warmed the camp by day. It had seemed foolish to look for another home. Milkweed had begun weaving brambles into a den for her kits in case snow came. She had also hunted, bringing back as much prey as Leaf. Her eyes flashed with satisfaction each time she dropped her catch among the other pieces of fresh-kill.

Pink Eyes had watched the kits while she’d been gone. Thunder was pleased to see how at ease the old tom was in his new home. He could hardly believe that this was the same cat who’d snapped at Birch and Alder for playing with his tail. Now, he would lie patiently in the sun-warmed clearing while Thistle and Clover clambered over him or played moss-ball nearby. From time to time he’d venture out of the ravine, hunting with Owl Eyes or helping Cloud Spots collect herbs. His delicate sense of smell could detect fragrant leaves so well hidden that they were unharmed by the frosts.

Yet the hunting wasn’t easy. The sickness had clearly reached this deep into the forest. Prey was as scarce as it had been in Clear Sky’s territory, and with kits to feed, finding enough each day was a challenge.