Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

Holly padded from her den, exchanging looks with Mud Paws and Mouse Ear as she passed them.

Storm Pelt and Dew Nose raced behind her, Eagle Feather at their heels.

Fern silently met Holly’s curious gaze as the she-cat stopped in front of her. Thunder could feel her trembling.

“Her pelt’s all knotted!” Dew Nose scrambled to a halt.

“Is she another mountain cat?” Storm Pelt asked.

“What are those scars?” Eagle Feather paced around Fern, sniffing her pelt.

Holly flicked her tail angrily. “Be polite! This cat is a visitor, and your elder.” She dipped her head to Fern. “I’m sorry about my kits. They speak before they think.”

“They have spirit,” Fern meowed stiffly. “They will grow into fine hunters.”

Holly puffed her fur out proudly.

Jagged Peak narrowed his eyes. “You say you are a friend. Can you prove it?”

Holly glared at her mate. “This poor cat is half-starved! Let her prove her friendship once she’s rested and eaten.” She nodded toward the prey pile. “Mud Paws dug up a mouse nest today, so there’s enough for all of us. Come and choose one.” She beckoned to Fern with a flick of her tail.

“Yes,” Tall Shadow agreed. “Eat and rest, Fern. We can talk in the morning.”

Jagged Peak rolled his eyes. “Are we going to take in every stray that walks into camp?”

Thunder curled his claws into the snow. “Why not? Strays are no less loyal than mountain cats.”

He thought of Milkweed and Pink Eyes. They brought prey home whenever they could. Even Leaf, despite his temper, hunted for his campmates before himself.

Jagged Peak snorted and turned away as Holly led Fern to the prey pile.

Dew Nose, Eagle Feather, and Storm Pelt bounced after them.

“I can help groom the knots from your pelt, Fern,” Dew Nose squeaked.

“I’m great at catching fleas,” Storm Pelt boasted. “Do you want me to catch yours?”

Fern glanced at the kit. “I’m not sure I have fleas.”

“But if you do, I’ll be able to get them,” Storm Pelt assured her.

Holly stopped at the prey pile, swung a mouse from the top, and dropped it at Fern’s paws. “Take this and find a sheltered spot. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

Fern gazed at her gratefully, then snatched up the mouse and carried it to the camp wall, where she settled onto the snow-flecked ground.

Dew Nose scampered after her.

“Let the poor cat eat in peace!” Holly called.

“I will! I promise.” Dew Nose flopped down beside Fern and stared at her as she ate.

Thunder glanced toward at the heap of fresh-kill. Snow dusted the top. He licked his lips and looked hopefully at Tall Shadow. “Can you spare some prey for me? I haven’t had a chance to hunt today.” I gave the one catch I made to Quiet Rain.

“Of course.” She blinked at him kindly. “I haven’t thanked you for bringing Gray Wing back to us.”

“That’s okay.” Thunder hurried across the clearing, his belly growling. “He wasn’t hard to find.”

At the prey pile he grabbed a mouse and, crouching, gulped it down in a few bites. As he swallowed, he watched Gray Wing sitting beside Quiet Rain. What must it be like to see his mother after so long? He wondered, with a pang, how he’d feel if Storm suddenly padded from between the trees.

“I want to see Clear Sky!” Quiet Rain’s querulous mew sounded across the clearing.

Gray Wing’s gaze swept around and stopped at Thunder. “Will you get your father?”

Thunder froze, the mouse suddenly sitting heavy in his belly. “Now?” Dusk had given way to night. Beyond the forest, the snow would be falling heavily.

“You only have to cross the Thunderpath,” Gray Wing pressed.

But I don’t want to see Clear Sky yet! Fur bristled along Thunder’s spine. He pushed himself to his paws and glared at Gray Wing. “Can I speak with you in private?”

Gray Wing straightened and padded toward Thunder. “What’s wrong?”

Thunder lowered his voice. “I told you I left Clear Sky’s camp,” he hissed. “That wasn’t easy to do. I’m not going back this quickly.”

“I’m not asking you to live with him again.” Gray Wing’s gaze hardened. “Just to get him.”

“Send some other cat!” Thunder glanced around the camp. Mud Paws and Mouse Ear were sharing tongues. Tall Shadow was sitting in the clearing, watching Fern as she ate beside Holly and the kits. Pebble Heart was sniffing at Quiet Rain’s wound, while Jagged Peak paced outside his den.

Gray Wing flattened his ears. “Quiet Rain is your kin—she is kin to all of us. Clear Sky is your father. You should be the one to tell him.”

“No!” Thunder growled. “I’ve spent all day taking cats from one camp to another. I’m tired.”

“Stop acting like a kit!” Gray Wing snapped. “Clear Sky will want to know that Quiet Rain is here. He’ll be grateful you told him. It might put an end to your conflict.”

Thunder glared at Gray Wing. “And what if I don’t want to put an end to it?”

“There’s no time to sulk!” Gray Wing lashed his tail. “My mother is sick. Her wound is serious.

You can quarrel with your father another time. Go and get Clear Sky while Quiet Rain’s still well enough to talk.”

Thunder stared at Gray Wing. Was Quiet Rain that ill? “Okay,” he growled. “I’ll go.” Ignoring the frustration hardening in his belly, he headed for the camp entrance. At least he’d had something to eat.

Clearing the camp, Thunder hurried between pines creaking under the weight of snow. He scanned the shadows until he reached the Thunderpath. It cut a dark gorge between the neat pines and rambling oaks. No fresh monster tracks showed in the thick snow, and he crossed the path easily and slipped into the forest beyond.

Irritation still itched beneath his pelt. Gray Wing could have sent someone else. Thunder veered off the path to Clear Sky’s camp, heading instead for the ravine. He had his own cats to take care of—and he’d made a promise to Milkweed that he’d be back by nightfall. He’d check on them; then he’d visit Clear Sky.

By the time he reached the top of the ravine, his paws ached. Snow swirled into the small valley and settled on the brambles and gorse below. He scrambled carefully down the slippery stones, landing with a soft thump in the snow at the bottom.

“Thunder!” Lightning Tail’s happy mew greeted him as he squeezed beneath the gorse. “Where have you been?”

“Didn’t Milkweed tell you?” Thunder crossed the clearing.

“Yes, but we thought you’d be back before now.”

“It took longer than I thought.” Thunder glanced around the snowy clearing. Milkweed was peering from the den she’d woven for her kits. He could see Clover’s and Thistle’s eyes shining in the darkness beside her. Pink Eyes crouched at the edge of the clearing, chewing on a scrawny starling.

Leaf bounded across the camp, a squirrel dangling from his jaws. He nodded to Thunder as he passed.

“It looks like you’ve had good hunting today,” Thunder called after him.

Lightning Tail puffed flakes from his nose. “Pink Eyes smelled the snow coming, so we’ve been hunting all day. It might be our last chance for a while.” He flicked his tail toward the prey pile, which was nearly as full as the one at Tall Shadow’s camp.

Leaf carried the squirrel to Milkweed’s den and dropped it at the entrance.

Thunder blinked. Was he actually taking food to the queen and her kits?

“Thanks, Leaf.” Milkweed blinked gratefully from the shadows and hauled the squirrel into the brambles. “Do you want to come in and share it?”

“If there’s room,” Leaf answered.