Эрин Хантер - Thunder Rising

CLEAR SKY—light gray tom with blue eyes

FALLING FEATHER—young white she-cat

MOON SHADOW—black tom

LEAF—gray-and-white tom

PETAL—small yellow tabby she-cat with green eyes

QUICK WATER—gray-and-white she-cat

FROST—pure white tom with blue eyes

FIRCONE—tortoiseshell tom

NETTLE—gray tom

TALL SHADOW—black, thick-furred she-cat with green eyes

GRAY WING—sleek, dark gray tom with golden eyes

JAGGED PEAK—small gray tabby tom with blue eyes

DAPPLED PELT—delicate tortoiseshell she-cat with golden eyes

RAINSWEPT FLOWER—brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes

SHATTERED ICE—gray-and-white tom with green eyes

CLOUD SPOTS—long-furred black tom with white ears, white chest, and two white paws

JACKDAW’S CRY—young black tom with blue eyes

HAWK SWOOP—orange tabby she-cat

LIGHTNING TAIL—black tom

ACORN FUR—chestnut brown she-cat

THUNDER—orange tom with amber eyes and big white paws

WIND—wiry brown she-cat with yellow eyes

GORSE—thin, gray tabby tom

THORN—she-cat with a short, thick gray coat and bright blue eyes

DEW—mangy tom with splotchy fur

RIVER RIPPLE—silver, long-furred tom

MISTY—gray-and-white she-cat

BUMBLE—plump tortoiseshell she-cat with yellow eyes

TURTLE TAIL—tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

All was dark over the moor, except for the glitter of far-off stars and the pale light of the moon. Thunder shifted on his haunches and closed his eyes to narrow slits as he gazed up at the silver circle where it hung close to the horizon. The night breeze rippling through his fur was cool and refreshing. The young cat began a luxurious stretch, then froze as another sensation joined the gentle ruffling. Something warm was rasping repetitively across his head.

Thunder turned his head and saw his mother, Storm, licking his ears as she used to do when he was a tiny kit. Back then she would soothe him to sleep against her soft belly fur. Thunder drew in his breath in wonder. My mother! It had been so long since he’d last felt the touch of her fur.

Storm paused. Thunder’s gaze met hers and he felt like he was sinking into the green depths of her eyes. Reaching out with one paw, his mother drew him closer to her, and he felt the comforting beat of her heart.

Thunder’s mind whirled with the strangeness of this meeting, yet at the same time he realized how familiar it felt. In the waking world he had never been able to remember his mother, but now he recognized every marking on her fur. Even the faint scent of her breath was known to him, reviving memories of the dark, echoing Twoleg den where he had been born.

Seeing Storm again reminded Thunder of the she-cat who had taken care of him when Gray Wing brought him to the moor. Hawk Swoop is kind to me . Her tenderness had never failed. Yet the feeling of love and comfort was much more powerful coming from his own mother.

A purr rose in his throat. “Tell me the story again,” he begged, even though he wasn’t sure which story he meant, or where the urge to hear it was coming from.

Storm settled herself more comfortably around him, one paw protectively over his shoulders. Briefly she hesitated, gazing past Thunder as if she could see into some immeasurable distance.

“I first met your father in the forest,” she murmured, the words awakening a familiar echo in Thunder’s mind. “In the sheltered hollow where he lived. He was stretched out in front of a clump of brambles. Our eyes met, and then we… we just knew. I could sense the love in him.”

Thunder’s pelt prickled with confusion as if ants were crawling through it. “Why are things so different now?” he asked. “Clear Sky turned me out—my own father! Where did all that love go?”

He felt Storm shift uneasily. “It’s still there,” she replied. “It’s just… Clear Sky doesn’t know what to do with it. You’ll help him find a way.” She bent her head and drew her tongue along the side of his body with strong, comforting licks. “I know you will.”

Thunder relaxed, but before he could close his eyes, he spotted a sudden movement in the distance. The dark shape of a cat, his head and tail raised, paced across the shining circle of the moon. Though he was far away, Thunder instinctively knew that the cat was his father.

Storm must have seen him too, for Thunder felt her heartbeat quicken. His own heart ached to realize that his mother still loved Clear Sky.

He half rose, intending to go after his father, but the paw that Storm had laid across his shoulders tightened, drawing him closer to her side. “Leave him be,” she mewed softly.

“But you said—” Thunder protested.

“The time isn’t right,” his mother told him. “You will know when it is.”

She began to lick his ears again, and gradually Thunder settled down. “But he’s my father…” he murmured sadly.

“I know,” Storm reassured him. Briefly playful, she patted him on the nose, her claws sheathed. “You have so much of him in you,” she purred.

The ache in Thunder’s heart grew more painful still, as if sharp claws were gripping it. “Then why won’t Clear Sky acknowledge me?” he demanded. “Why can’t I go to him?” His voice rose to a wail. “Everything feels so wrong!”

Storm’s eyes were full of sorrow as she fixed her gaze on the full moon. The night breeze grew stronger, ruffling her fur, and she curled her body more tightly around Thunder, protecting him from the chill.

Thunder couldn’t see her face anymore. He could only hear her as she began to speak again. “You will make things right,” she murmured, her voice trickling through him like warm honey in his veins. “When the time comes, I know you will…”

The new growth of moorland grass rippled under a warm breeze that ruffled Gray Wing’s fur, telling him that the cold season was coming to an end. Green shoots were springing from the ground in all directions, and bright yellow flowers had appeared on the gorse bushes that dotted the landscape. The distant sound of birdsong promised abundant prey in the moons to come.