Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

“She’s just a rogue.” He shrugged.

Fern’s eyes flashed. “‘Just a rogue’?” she snorted. “I’m the rogue who lied to a murdering tom just to save your friends.”

Gray Wing’s ears pricked. “You spoke to Slash?” he asked eagerly.

“I promised I would, didn’t I?” Fern lifted her chin. “I told him about the prey and he went to look for it, just like I said he would. He’s such a greedy fox!”

Thunder’s eyes were wide. “Who’s Slash?”

“He’s another rogue,” Gray Wing told him. “He sent Fern to spy on us.”

Thunder narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re a spy?”

“Leave her alone,” Gray Wing told him sharply. “Slash is as cruel as One Eye. It took a lot of courage to lie to him.”

Fern puffed out her chest. She looked like a scrawny pigeon. Gray Wing realized that she was skinnier than ever.

“Have you been hunting in the hollow?” he asked.

“Yes.” She shrugged wearily. “But there wasn’t much prey.”

“Come back to my camp,” Gray Wing meowed. “When Slash finds out you sent him looking for prey that isn’t there, he won’t be pleased. You’ll be safer with us, and you can share our prey.”

Thunder eyed him. “Tall Shadow might have something to say about that.”

“Not when I explain what Fern has done for us.” Gray Wing began to pad toward the pines. They loomed against the darkening sky, and snow was falling thicker. Pain shot through him with each paw step, but he ignored it.

His mother was waiting for him.

Fern trotted after him. “Can I really come with you?” She sounded like a nervous kit.

“Yes.”

Thunder fell in beside her. “Why did Slash want you to spy on Gray Wing’s camp?”

Fern shrugged. “He doesn’t like to share his land with other cats.”

“This isn’t his land,” Thunder growled. “If it was, we’d have seen him before. Where does he come from?”

“We used to live as strays in the Twolegplace. But Slash got bored of eating Twoleg waste and decided there would be richer pickings out here.” Fern gazed across the fast-whitening moor. “Slash doesn’t like to admit when he’s wrong.”

“Why do you stay with him?” Thunder’s gaze flicked over her knotted fur and scars.

Fern stared ahead. “I have no one else.”

“Not even kin? Surely—”

Gray Wing cut in. “Leave her alone, Thunder.”

Thunder shrugged. “Okay.” He nodded toward Gray Wing’s paw. “How does it feel?”

“It hurts,” Gray Wing told him. Pain throbbed where the vine had sliced through his flesh. “But Pebble Heart will know which herbs will soothe it.”

They headed down the slope toward the Thunderpath. Monster tracks sliced through the slush covering the smooth black stone. Gray Wing pricked his ears, listening for monster growls. He heard nothing through the muffling snow, and there was no sign of eyes flashing in the distance.

“Come on.” He limped across the Thunderpath, relieved to smell pinesap as he reached the other side.

Fern’s black pelt was dotted with flakes. Snow speckled Thunder’s whiskers. A fresh flurry whirled around them, and Gray Wing ducked between the straight, dark trunks into the shelter of the forest.

Thunder led the way to the bramble camp. Fern stayed close to Gray Wing, pressing closer as they neared.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she whispered as the ring of brambles loomed ahead of them.

Familiar scents filled the air. “You’ll be fine,” Gray Wing promised her. Skirting the camp wall, he followed Thunder through the entrance. He scanned the wide clearing. “Quiet Rain?” His heart swelled with excitement.

Mud Paws looked up from the prey pile, where Mouse Ear was sifting through the day’s catch.

Tall Shadow and Jagged Peak sat in the shelter of the camp wall, their heads close as they shared words.

Tall Shadow spotted Gray Wing. “You’re back!” Relief flooded her mew.

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long.”

As Gray Wing dipped his head, Dew Nose’s voice sounded from the large den at the far end of the clearing. “Holly, can we play in the snow?”

“Tomorrow,” Holly’s voice answered. “It’s time to sleep now.”

Gray Wing blinked, impressed at the den she’d built while he’d been away.

Another den jutted from the side of the camp wall. Gray Wing opened his mouth and tasted the sharp tang of herbs billowing from it.

“Gray Wing?” An old mew rasped from beside it. Lying on the ground, her speckled gray pelt camouflaged against the snow-flecked needles, was Quiet Rain.

Gray Wing hurried toward her, wincing at the pain. Joy flared in his chest. He’d thought he’d never see her again—but here she was, in his new home! She struggled to get to her paws as he neared, but slumped back weakly. She was so thin now. Thick green pulp was smeared on the top of her hind leg. Her eyes shone as they met his, but he could see exhaustion in their blue depths.

“Where’s Sun Shadow?” He glanced around for the young tom.

“He’s sleeping,” Quiet Rain told him. “It’s the first time he’s had a full belly and a safe nest for quite some time.”

Gray Wing blinked anxiously at his mother. “Are you okay?” The tang of the herbs filled his nose.

“I’m here,” she murmured. “That’s all that matters.”

Emotion tightened Gray Wing’s throat. He thrust his muzzle against Quiet Rain’s cheek.

She relaxed at his touch, and his pelt rippled with pleasure as he breathed in the scent of her. For a moment he was a kit again, nuzzling beside her belly in the warmth of their mountain nest.

Suddenly, she pulled away. “I smell blood!” Fear lit her gaze as she saw Gray Wing’s injured paw. “What happened to you?”

“I got caught in a Twoleg trap.”

Her blue eyes clouded. “Why did you ever come to this place?” Her wail was thin, like the mewl of a kit. “There is nothing but death and danger here! You should have stayed in the mountains!”

Thunder watched Gray Wing lean close to Quiet Rain, trying to comfort her with soft purrs as flakes of snow drifted through the thick pine canopy, settling on their pelts. She’d wailed like a kit, though Thunder couldn’t make out her words. Perhaps sleep and good forest prey would ease the old she-cat’s distress.

He dragged his gaze away and surveyed the camp. Should I leave now? Unease spiked in his pelt.

Mud Paws and Mouse Ear were staring suspiciously at Fern. Tall Shadow’s gaze flashed in the half-light. Jagged Peak’s pelt was rippling across his shoulders. He should stay until he knew she’d be welcome here.

Fern shifted beside him. “Maybe I should go.”

“Just keep your fur flat and look friendly,” he whispered.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she hissed back. “These cats know you.”

Tall Shadow was the first to approach. She padded across the clearing, chin high. “Who’s this?”

Fern dipped her head. “I’m Fern,” she meowed politely. “Gray Wing said I could come back to the camp with him.”

Tall Shadow’s ears twitched. “ Did he?”

Fern glanced at the entrance. “I can leave if you like.”

“No.” Tall Shadow’s gaze moved slowly over the black she-cat. “If Gray Wing said you could come, he had a reason.”

Jagged Peak limped toward them. “Has Gray Wing been rounding up strays?”

“I’m a friend .” Fern’s eyes sparked indignantly.

Should I tell them about Slash? Thunder glanced at Gray Wing. No. Let Fern tell them if she wants. Or Gray Wing. It’s none of my business.