Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

Slate held on tight, ripping and tearing at the fox’s throat until blood sprayed upward, splashing her muzzle. The feeling of triumph was all she had hoped for.

“That’s for Cricket!” she snarled through clenched teeth.

As she watched the light die out from the fox’s eyes, Slate became dimly aware of Wind Runner yowling urgently.

Another fox? she thought. Does this one have a mate that’s charging to its rescue?

Slate released the fox and stepped away from it, trying to brace herself for another attack. She swayed on her paws, looking around for the new enemy. But all she saw was Wind Runner, staring at her with a look of horror in her yellow eyes.

“Your wound!” Wind Runner cried, gesturing toward Slate’s belly.

Slate looked down and saw blood—a lot of blood—seeping from the gash in her belly. Cold fear washed over her as she sank to the ground, turning her head toward Wind Runner.

“Help me,” she begged.

Blackness beckoned to her, coaxing her to sink down into its comforting depths. Slate fought against it, realizing that she had been wrong when she thought she would be content to give up her life in the fight.

I don’t want to die…

But the blackness was too strong for her. The echoing dark was all around her, and Slate was falling, falling into a pit that had no bottom, where the light of day would never come.

Slate felt the touch of a tiny paw on her forehead. She opened her eyes to see a small white face with bright eyes, so close to her that the kit’s whiskers tickled Slate’s ears.

“She’s alive!” Moth Flight called. “I told you she wouldn’t die!”

Moth Flight pulled back, and Slate looked around to see Gorse Fur, Wind Runner, Dust Muzzle, and Cloud Spots all gazing down at her. She realized that she was back in her nest in Wind Runner’s camp.

Wind Runner took a pace forward and rubbed her cheek against Slate’s. “I was so afraid,” she confessed. “You didn’t wake up, even when we dragged you home.”

Cloud Spots appeared behind Wind Runner, his eyes warm with relief. “I’m not surprised,” he meowed. “I could tell when I first met you, Slate, that you’re a fighter.”

Slate looked down at her belly and saw that Cloud Spots had sealed her wound again with a wad of cobwebs. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you all so much.”

“It’s the least we could do,” Gorse Fur responded. “You saved us from the fox.”

“I couldn’t have done it without Wind Runner,” Slate mewed. Turning to the brown she-cat, she went on, “I’m sorry I’ve gotten myself injured again. I wasn’t aiming to stay in your camp forever. I’ll leave as soon as I’m feeling stronger.”

Gorse Fur and Wind Runner exchanged a glance. “Actually,” Gorse Fur began, “we’ve been talking—”

“You can’t leave!” Wind Runner blurted out suddenly, her eyes filled with emotion.

Gorse Fur nodded. “You’re family now,” he agreed.

“That is,” Wind Runner added, twitching her ear, “if you’d ever want to become a group cat .”

Slate looked from the excited kits to Cloud Spots, to Gorse Fur, and finally back to Wind Runner.

Half a moon ago, I wouldn’t have believed this was possible. But now…

“I do,” she meowed, warmth flooding through her from ears to tail-tip. “I want to be part of this family.”