Эрин Хантер - Thunder Rising

Leaf glared at him. “Are you calling us stupid?” he growled. “Or cowards?”

“No!” Perhaps Thunder’s question hadn’t been the most tactful.

Clear Sky flicked his tail at Leaf. “That’s enough. Thunder, you’re quite right. We would have been safe if we’d stayed in camp. But it didn’t look like that at the time. The wind was blowing the fire toward our camp; the only thing we could do was get out, fast. But then the wind changed, and we were cut off.”

“Satisfied?” Leaf demanded.

Thunder nodded. “Yes, thanks, that makes sense. But I didn’t mean—”

“We’re wasting time.” Clear Sky padded on, and Thunder followed.

Maybe it would be better for me to keep my mouth shut from now on .

Thunder took up his position behind Leaf again, noticing patches of burnt undergrowth and swathes of charred bracken. He realized how terrifying it must have been for Clear Sky and his cats to feel that the fire was hunting them in their own home.

“Look—a squirrel!” Leaf’s hissed exclamation roused Thunder from his thoughts.

Clear Sky raised his tail in a signal for them to halt. Gazing past him, Thunder noticed a squirrel climbing headfirst down the trunk of a beech tree some way ahead. Leaf had already flattened himself to the ground and was creeping forward with cautious paw steps.

“No,” Clear Sky rumbled, his voice deep in his throat. “I want Thunder to catch it. I’ve seen what he can do; this is his chance to prove himself to you.” More quietly, he added to Thunder, “The best way for you to fit in with the rest of them is to show what a valuable asset you are to us.”

Leaf sat up with an irritable flick of his tail, and fixed Thunder with an amber glare. Thunder gazed back at him, trying to look apologetic. It should be Leaf’s prey; he saw it first .

Clear Sky twitched his ears impatiently. “Come on then,” he mewed to Thunder. “Are you waiting for it to walk into your paws?”

A prickle of nervousness ran through Thunder’s pads, and he tried to ignore the black-and-white tom’s hostility. The squirrel had reached the bottom of the tree by now, and was scrabbling about among the roots. Thunder launched himself toward it, crashing through the outside of a bramble thicket, forcing his legs to drive him on faster and faster.

But he wasn’t fast enough. Long before he reached the beech tree the squirrel started, took one glance in his direction, then fled back up the trunk, its tail floating out behind it.

Thunder skidded to a halt at the foot of the tree. The squirrel had disappeared; only the rustling of the leaves told him where it was. He thought of climbing the tree, but the bark was smooth and the lowest branch was many tail-lengths above his head.

Discouraged and furious with himself, Thunder trudged back to where his father and Leaf were waiting. His tail was drooping and his pelt felt hot with embarrassment. What’s the matter with me? I know that’s not the way you hunt in woodland!

“I… I guess I’ve still got a lot to learn,” he stammered as he approached the other cats.

“You’re right; you have.” Clear Sky’s blue eyes showed his disappointment. “Maybe I should have brought you into the forest much earlier,” he grumbled. To Leaf, he added, “I’ve got other things to do. You two can finish the patrol, and don’t come back to camp until you’ve caught something.”

He stalked into the undergrowth.

Leaf turned to Thunder, his amber eyes narrow. “Follow me,” he snapped. “And don’t be so clumsy next time.”

Thunder padded after the black-and-white tom as they headed farther into the forest. All his senses were alert; his jaws open to taste the air, his ears pricked, and his gaze flicking from side to side. He was determined to make up for his failure with the squirrel.

But the forest was quiet. Eventually Leaf let out a long sigh and lay down in the shade of a clump of ferns. “There won’t be much prey stirring after your little performance,” he meowed.

Thunder halted beside him. “We should probably wait it out patiently,” he responded. “The prey will come back eventually.”

“That is what I’m doing, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Leaf hissed. “There’s no need to talk to me as if I’m mouse-brained. I know the forest better than you!”

“I’m sorry—” Thunder began, wondering why the cats in his father’s group seemed so quick to get angry.

“You should pay attention,” Leaf interrupted, apparently not wanting to hear his apology. “That is, if you want to learn the skills that a leader will need.”

Thunder gazed at him, his jaws gaping in shock. Is that what the other cats think? That Clear Sky has brought me here to set me up as leader after him? “You’ve got it all wrong,” he protested. “I don’t want to be leader. I’m sure that’s not what Clear Sky—”

“Be quiet!” Leaf snarled. “Your name might be Thunder, but that doesn’t mean you have to make so much noise all the time .”

Thunder suppressed a sigh. Settling down among the ferns beside the older cat, he kept his gaze fixed on the forest, his nose alert for prey. I’ll hunt now, and do the job I was told to do. But he promised himself that later he’d make sure that the other cats understood he wasn’t here to take over the group or push them out. I just want to fit in , he thought. Is that too much to ask?

Sunhigh was approaching when Leaf and Thunder returned to the camp. Leaf was carrying a squirrel that he had caught in the middle of a clearing after a magnificent bit of stalking. Thunder had managed to catch a mouse that was searching for seeds in a clump of long grass.

Leaf led the way into the camp and deposited his prey near the edge of the pool in the center. Thunder laid his mouse alongside as Clear Sky emerged from his den in a bramble thicket and padded over to inspect the catch. More of the cats appeared, too, exchanging impressed glances as they spotted the prey.

“Very well done!” Clear Sky meowed, his blue gaze resting approvingly on Thunder. “What hunting skills you have!”

Thunder stared at him. It was as if his father had completely forgotten the mess he had made of hunting the first squirrel. “I only caught the mouse,” he explained. “The squirrel is Leaf’s.”

Clear Sky seemed not to have heard him. “I can see it’s time I started training you myself in the ways of the forest,” he continued. “You show such promise.”

“But it wasn’t me…” Thunder tried to protest again, but Clear Sky had already turned away.

As the other cats closed in to take their share of the prey, Thunder dared to look at Leaf. He hoped that the black-and-white tom would understand. I’m sorry about what happened… I tried to tell Clear Sky. But Leaf simply turned his back, hurt and anger glaring from his amber eyes.

Thunder sighed, retreating instead of biting into the prey. He watched the others eat, misery ruining his own appetite. A picture of his adopted littermates, Lightning Tail and Acorn Fur, slipped into his mind. He could see their bright eyes, and the mischievous whisk of their tails.

“I wonder what they’re doing now,” he sighed. Life was so much more carefree on the moor…

Thunder padded along in Clear Sky’s paw steps as they headed up the stream away from the river. It was the day after his disastrous hunt with Leaf, and his father was taking him training for the first time. The sky was cloudy, with only the occasional gleam of sunlight; a stiff breeze rustled the leaves and carried with it the reek of the burnt stretch of forest.