Эрин Хантер - Tigerheart’s Shadow

Tigerheart sat back on his haunches. Perhaps she was right. He must be patient.

“Try it,” Dovewing encouraged the kits gently.

Pouncekit sniffed uneasily at the strip of red meat before dabbing it with her tongue. She frowned and dabbed it again. Shadowkit touched his piece with his paw before sinking his teeth in. Lightkit grabbed one end of hers in her mouth and, hooking the strip with her claw, began tugging it with her teeth.

Dovewing blinked affectionately at Tigerheart. “It was good of you to catch fresh prey for us.”

Tigerheart didn’t answer. He was still staring anxiously at the kits. What if they never learned to love fresh-kill? What if he took them back to ShadowClan and they refused to eat?

“All kits are fussy about food at first,” Dovewing murmured. “Ivypool refused to eat rabbit until she was four moons old. And I hated shrews.”

“Really?” Tigerheart looked hopefully at her.

She held his gaze for a moment, then nodded at the kits. All three were busy chewing on their strips of thrush. Shadowkit looked thoughtful. Pouncekit was still frowning. Lightkit’s cheeks bulged with food where she’d bitten off too much.

“Chew it properly before you swallow,” Dovewing warned. “Or you’ll get a bellyache.”

Tigerheart watched them eat, pride swelling in his chest. Even if they didn’t like the thrush, they were trying to eat it. Your kits will be warriors. Spire’s words rang in his mind. Of course they would be. Especially if he took them home soon.

Tigerheart fluffed his fur against the cold. Outside the gathering place, wind whipped rain against the stone slabs. Fierce, Spire, and Ant were already heading across the grass. Beside him, Dovewing shivered.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Tigerheart glanced at her. It would be the first time she’d left the den since kitting.

“I need fresh air.” She lifted her face into the breeze, half closing her eyes against the rain; then she stiffened and looked anxiously at Tigerheart. “Blaze and Peanut will take good care of the kits, won’t they?”

“Of course,” he reassured her. “Blaze will keep them busy, and Peanut will make sure they stay out of troub—” He paused as a familiar scent touched his nose.

He’d learned by now to untangle jumbled city scents and pick out prey, cat, fox, and food smells from the acrid stench of monsters. He could smell the gray she-cat they’d met the day before. His ears twitched uneasily. Ant, Fierce, and Spire had reached the Thunderpath and were waiting for a gap to cross. “Come back!”

Fierce looked back questioningly and turned back as Tigerheart beckoned her with a flick of his tail. Ant and Spire followed. “What is it?”

Tigerheart sniffed the air again, smelling the she-cat once more. Other cat scents mingled with it. “The strays have been here.” The smell strengthened with the wind. “They’re still around.” Tigerheart jerked his nose toward an unkempt patch of trees and bushes at the far end of the gathering place. Was that movement in the long grass beside it? His pelt prickled. “They’ve invaded our land!” Without waiting, he raced toward the cat scents. He stopped as he reached the trees and stared into the bushes crowding their trunks. “Come out!” he demanded.

The branches rustled, and the gray she-cat slid out and gazed at him impassively. “Hi again.”

“What are you doing here?” Tigerheart demanded as Dovewing caught up to him. She was panting a little. It had clearly been a while since she’d run. Fierce, Ant, and Spire followed slowly.

The gray she-cat stared at Tigerheart, looking puzzled.

He glanced at the guardian cats. They didn’t look concerned. “She’s on our land!” he growled.

“This isn’t our land.” Fierce flicked her tail as she reached him.

Tigerheart could hardly believe his ears. “It’s where you live and hunt.”

Ant frowned. “We sleep in the gathering place and scavenge all over the city.” He clearly didn’t understand.

“But this is your home.” Tigerheart glanced around the stretch of grass surrounding the thorn den.

A tom emerged from the bushes, followed by three other strays. They lined up beside the gray she-cat, blinking at him curiously.

“What’s the fuss about, Fog?” A brown tom looked at the gray she-cat.

“I’m not sure, Tuna.” Fog stared at Tigerheart. “This cat’s complaining again.”

Tigerheart struggled to understand their indifference. Even Dovewing looked unconcerned. If this were the forest, pelts would be bristling and teeth bared by now. He blinked at Dovewing. “I know this is the city, but all cats have territory, right? Don’t they want to defend it?”

She looked at him. “They obviously don’t mind sharing.” She looked at Fierce inquiringly.

Fierce shrugged. “What’s the point of arguing over land?”

Tigerheart stared at her. “Don’t you have borders?”

“No.”

“Well, you should.” He looked pointedly at Fog. “Then other cats would know not to trespass.”

Rain dripped from Fierce’s whiskers as she glanced past Fog. “Have you built dens here?”

“Not dens,” Fog answered. “Just a few nests. Foxes invaded our old home. We needed a new place to sleep.”

Tigerheart pricked his ears. “So you’re planning to make a new home here?”

Fog shrugged. “Why not? We won’t bother you.”

Tigerheart narrowed his eyes accusingly. “What about yesterday?” he challenged. “You tried to steal our food.”

Tuna shifted his paws. “We were just scavenging, like you.”

Tigerheart growled. “In the future, don’t scavenge where we scavenge.”

Fog stared back innocently. “We’re still getting used to this part of the city. We didn’t know you owned the scrapcans here.” Her pelt ruffled into spikes as rain soaked her fur.

“Go easy on them.” Fierce swished her tail at Tigerheart. “They’ve had fox trouble. We know what that’s like.”

Tigerheart didn’t care. He was wondering how many more cats were hiding in the bushes. “Are you going to let them stay on your land?”

“I told you,” Fierce meowed. “This isn’t our land. We don’t own land.”

“How do you know where you can hunt?” Tigerheart couldn’t understand how they could live in such a disorganized way. “You have sick cats to feed,” he reminded her. “And kits. You need to know you have territory that can support them even in the coldest weather. You—”

Fog interrupted him. “What’s the weather got to do with it? Do you think Twolegs stop leaving trash because it gets cold? Ice-chill is the best weather for scavenging. Food rots slower.”

“Come on.” Fierce began to head away. “This argument is pointless. These cats aren’t harming anyone.”

Ant and Spire followed her wordlessly. Tigerheart exchanged looks with Dovewing. Foreboding hollowed his belly. Hadn’t Rowanstar let rogues live beside ShadowClan land because he thought they wouldn’t do any harm?

Fog shook rain from her fur and headed back into the dripping bushes. Her companions followed.

Alone with Dovewing, Tigerheart’s pelt prickled along his spine. “I can see trouble coming.”

“I know it’s different from how Clans live, but the cats here seem happy with it.” Dovewing began to head after Fierce, Spire, and Ant.

Tigerheart wondered why Dovewing didn’t see the danger in living so chaotically. “They may be happy now, but what if Fog and her friends decide they want a warmer den and invade the gathering place? There are sick cats there who can’t defend themselves! Just because the guardian cats chased off a couple of foxes, it doesn’t mean they’re ready for a full battle over territory.” He paused, his heart quickening. “They don’t even understand what territory is!”