A Forest Divided (8 page)

“I can smell squirrel,” Mouse Ear meowed happily.

“Should we hunt?” Mud Paws looked at Jagged Peak. Gray Wing blinked in surprise. Mud Paws was treating him like their leader.

Tall Shadow sat down and gazed between the trees. She didn't seem to have noticed, or if she had, she didn't seem to care. Her green eyes shone. Her black pelt melted among the shadows as though she'd become part of her new home already.

“Tall Shadow?” Jagged Peak called to her. “Should we hunt?”

“If you like.” Tall Shadow shrugged.

Holly's gaze followed her kits, who were scrambling over tree roots, their noses and tails twitching with excitement.

With a leap, Dew Nose hooked her claws into the bark and dangled from the trunk. “Look! I'm climbing.”

“Don't go too high,” Holly warned.

Pebble Heart tasted the air. “Maybe we should find somewhere to build nests before we hunt.”

“Let's split up,” Jagged Peak suggested. “I'll hunt with Mud Paws and Mouse Ear. You, Holly, and Tall Shadow can take Gray Wing and the kits and find somewhere to rest tonight.”

Take Gray Wing and the kits!
Gray Wing felt a prick of resentment. Jagged Peak was talking like he was one of them!

Storm Pelt tipped his head. “Why can't Gray Wing hunt with you? He's a great hunter.”

“Gray Wing's not as fast as he used to be,” Jagged Peak answered.

Holly nodded. “He'll be safer if he stays with you.”

Eagle Feather puffed out his chest. “I'll look after him!”

Jagged Peak looked fondly at his kit. “Gray Wing will be grateful to have such a strong kit watching over him.”

Gray Wing flattened his ears. “I don't need
anyone
watching over me!” he snapped at Jagged Peak. “Just because you saved my life doesn't mean you get to treat me like a useless kit!”

Dew Nose bristled. “Kits aren't useless!”

Tall Shadow stepped between them. “I'm sure Jagged Peak didn't mean anything, Gray Wing,” she soothed.

Jagged Peak dipped his head. “Of course not. But we all know that the fire damaged your breathing. You're not the cat you used to be.”

Anger surged though Gray Wing. He flexed his claws, wondering if he had enough breath to scratch his young brother's ears. How dare he?

Tall Shadow flicked her tail. “Perhaps you should hunt, Jagged Peak,” she suggested diplomatically.

Gray Wing frowned. Love hadn't made Jagged Peak confident; it had made him arrogant! “Be careful,” he muttered. “Don't forget that you don't know what's out there.”
Perhaps I should warn them about Fern and Slash.
This wasn't the perfect home they believed it was. There was danger lurking in the shadows. Then he glanced at Tall Shadow, worry darkening
her gaze for the first time since she'd set paw in the forest, and swallowed back his anger. He wasn't going to spoil her moment. “I'm sorry.”

He'd warn them about Slash when the time was right. Perhaps he wouldn't need to. He might be able to find Fern and talk to her. The rogue didn't seem to be a bad cat. She was just scared of Slash.

Gray Wing felt suddenly tired. They hadn't even found a new camp, and trouble was already stalking them. “Come on.” He heaved himself to his paws. “Let's find somewhere sheltered to build nests.”

As they set off, Eagle Feather scampered ahead. “Can I have my own nest?”

“When you're older,” Holly called after him.

Gray Wing scanned the shadows beyond the kit warily. “Stay close, Eagle Feather. Until we're sure it's safe here.”

A blustery wind shook the branches
overhead. Thunder tucked his forepaws closer to his belly.

Beside him, Clear Sky huffed. “Are you cold?”

“No,” Thunder lied, bunching his muscles to hide his shivers.

They were sitting at the edge of a small clearing, not far from the camp, watching Acorn Fur train Owl Eyes and Sparrow Fur how to hunt in their new woodland home. Clear Sky wanted to see how well his recruits were adapting to forest life.

Thunder bushed out his fur. The sharpness of the leaf-bare chill had eased in the past days, but snow clouds had turned to rain, and dampness dug deep into his thick pelt.

It wasn't raining now, but the trees still dripped from the last downpour. Fallen leaves were matted into wet clumps, making the forest floor slippery.

“Try again, Owl Eyes.” Acorn Fur had laid a dead mouse near the edge of the clearing. “You need to reach it in one pounce. There are no second chances in the forest, with so many hiding places for prey.”

As Owl Eyes crouched behind the roots of an oak, Thunder saw that the gaze he fixed on his quarry was anxious.

Sparrow Fur paced back and forth impatiently a tail-length behind him. “Hurry up!”

Acorn Fur glanced at the brown she-cat with annoyance. “Keep still, Sparrow Fur. Let your brother concentrate.”

“I want a turn,” Sparrow Fur complained.

“The mouse isn't going anywhere,” Acorn Fur told her.

“It'll be shredded by the time I get to stalk it.” Sparrow Fur ducked her chin sullenly.

“Owl Eyes needs to practice.” As Acorn Fur spoke, a withered leaf dropped from a branch above them and pattered onto the wet ground.

Owl Eyes's gaze flicked toward it.

Acorn Fur whipped her tail-tip at him. “Don't look at the leaf! Focus on the
mouse
!”

Owl Eyes gasped. “Sorry!”

Thunder felt a jab of pity for the young tom. Owl Eyes's last pounce had sent him slithering past the mouse, his paws skidding on the muddy earth. If Acorn Fur made him any more nervous, his next pounce wouldn't be much better.

“It's good that he's so alert,” Thunder said, standing. “You have to be wary in the forest. It's not as easy to spot danger as on the moor.”

Acorn Fur bristled. “But he shouldn't take his eyes off his prey every time a leaf falls!” she snapped. “He'll never catch anything.”

Owl Eyes peered up at the shivering branches. “I'll get used
to it,” he promised. His pelt was twitching nervously. Thunder could see that he still wasn't comfortable living beneath a tangled canopy of branches.

Thunder crossed the clearing and stopped beside Acorn Fur. “He's young,” he murmured into her ear. “Remember how long it took you to learn your hunting crouch.” He winked teasingly.

“I learned it quicker than you,” she retorted.

“
And
quicker than Lightning Tail,” Thunder reminded her.

She purred and turned back to Owl Eyes. “You'll be able to tell the difference between a falling leaf and a stalking fox before you know it,” she reassured him. “For now, concentrate on the mouse. I'll warn you if I smell danger.”

Sparrow Fur snorted. “This is taking forever!”

Acorn Fur called to her. “Why don't you see how many different scents you can detect while you wait?”

Clear Sky grunted. “Counting scents is for kits.” He marched across the clearing. “Give her something better to do! Let her hunt
real
prey.” He stopped beside the dead mouse and kicked it, sending it rolling across the forest floor. Owl Eyes never took his eyes off it.

Acorn Fur shifted her paws uneasily. “But she doesn't know how to hunt in a forest yet.”

“And she never will if you don't let her practice.” Clear Sky nodded to Sparrow Fur. “Off you go! Catch something for the other cats.”

Sparrow Fur's eyes lit up. “Great!” She turned and headed past the bramble.

“Wait! You don't know what's out there.” Acorn Fur beckoned to Owl Eyes with a flick of her tail. “We'll come with you!”

Owl Eyes was still staring at the dead mouse. “Should I pounce first?”

“Leave the mouse.” Acorn Fur's pelt pricked. “We'll collect it on the way back.”

Thunder saw the reproachful glance she flashed Clear Sky as she passed and gave her a sympathetic shrug.

Clear Sky didn't seem to notice. He was gazing between the trees, narrowing his eyes. “Someone's coming.”

Thunder pricked his ears as Acorn Fur herded Owl Eyes and Sparrow Fur past the bramble and into a swath of bracken. Paws were pounding over the forest floor toward them. He tasted the air.
Lightning Tail!

His friend burst from under a low jutting branch and skidded to a halt on the wet leaves. “Where's Acorn Fur?”

“She just left.”

“Is she still training Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes? I promised I'd help.” Lightning Tail glanced around. “Which way did she go?”

Clear Sky snorted. “Through the bracken. Can't you smell her?”

“All I can smell is wet leaves,” Lightning Tail meowed. “How do you ever sniff out prey around here? I can hardly taste my own tail when I wash.”

“You'll learn how,” Thunder promised. He was only just getting used to it himself. He'd lived in the forest before
but had forgotten all he'd learned after moons on the moor. There, the wind had carried only fresh scents. Here, smells gathered and mingled, catching on bushes and lingering on tree trunks. The whole forest tasted musty with decay.

Lightning Tail nodded to Thunder. “Do you want to join us?”

“No, thanks.” Thunder stared through the trees, wondering what was beyond the steep rise sloping up toward a thickly brambled crest. “I thought I'd explore my new home.” He flicked his tail toward Clear Sky. “Do you want to come with me?”

Clear Sky jerked around. “Come with you?”

“I thought you might want to keep me company.”

Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. “Are you planning to show me around my own territory?”

Thunder tipped his head, suddenly uneasy. “That's not what I meant. I just wondered if you wanted to come along—”

Clear Sky cut him off. “It's time I patrolled my borders.” He lifted his tail. “Perhaps
you'd
like to keep
me
company.”

Thunder's pelt itched with frustration. Why did Clear Sky have to make everything a battle?
He is the leader,
he reminded himself.
Let him lead.
He dipped his head. “I'd be honored.”

Clear Sky marched from the clearing. Thunder followed.

Lightning Tail leaned forward as Thunder brushed past. “Does he argue about everything?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Thunder hissed back.

Clear Sky could be obstinate. But they knew that already. Thunder just wished that he were better at guessing what was
going to make Clear Sky's hackles rise. Dealing with his father was like picking his way through a briar patch—he never knew when he would step on a thorn.

Lightning Tail nosed Thunder's flank. “You've got more patience than me.”

If only that were true. “See you later, Lightning Tail.” Thunder hurried on, weaving through a crowd of slender birch trees, following Clear Sky between the trunks. Water chattered beyond. They were heading for a stream. By the time Thunder caught up, Clear Sky had leaped the brook and was crouching at the far side. Thunder stopped at the edge and watched as Clear Sky leaned down the steep bank and began to lap at the water.

The stream had been empty until the snow had melted; now it washed his paw tips and glittered beneath the bare branches as it snaked away between the trees. Thunder bent low and drank too. It was more refreshing than what he found on the moor, where the streams were sluggish, the peaty earth making the water taste like smoke.

He lifted his head, his chin dripping, seeing that Clear Sky was now pacing the far bank. “Are you ready?” his father asked.

After Thunder jumped the stream, Clear Sky nodded toward a gully that cut through the forest. “There's a huge oak along there. Beyond it, the forest stretches to Twolegplace.”

“Show me.” Thunder waited for Clear Sky to take the lead, then fell in behind him.

He followed his father over a rise, then hopped after him into the gully. It rose steeply on either side, muddy from the
recent rain. Slippery roots snaked beneath Thunder's paws. Clear Sky moved easily between them, his pale gray pelt no more than a shadow in the gloom. Thunder was aware that his own orange pelt glowed. His paws slithered. He stumbled over a root, landing awkwardly as another tripped him. He was used to the wide smooth expanses of the moor. Even the rabbit trails between the heather were well worn and easy to navigate. The uneven path here unbalanced him, and he found himself concentrating so hard on where to put his paws that he didn't see the bramble stem hanging across the trail. It snagged his ear and he gasped with pain.

Clear Sky paused and turned his head. “Are you okay?”

“Just a bramble.” Thunder glanced at the land rising beside them. The earth looked smoother up there. And there were no brambles. Why did Clear Sky insist on picking his way along this treacherous gully?

“Can't you go any faster?” Clear Sky called.

“I'm doing my best!” Irritation flashed beneath his pelt.
He's doing this on purpose.
His father clearly wanted to show how easily he moved through his terrain.

Clear Sky quickened his pace over the root-tangled trail.

I'm not playing your game.
Thunder leaped up the steep bank of the gully and climbed the smooth slope. Shadowing Clear Sky's route, he kept to higher ground. A swath of bracken crossed his path and he pushed his way in, relishing the tug of the scratchy stalks as they scraped his pelt.

Clear Sky was waiting at the other side. “You're supposed to be following me.” He stood on the slope, his blue eyes cold.

“I was, but I kept stubbing my paws.”

“You've clearly forgotten how to move through a forest.”

Thunder ignored his father's condescending tone, pointedly glancing up the slope. A huge tree towered at the top, stretching high above the canopy. “Is that the oak you were talking about?”

“Yes.” Clear Sky swished his tail and bounded toward it.

Thunder leaped after him. Clear Sky dug his paws in harder to keep himself in the lead. As they neared the top of the rise, red fur flashed across ahead of them.

Clear Sky slowed to a halt, every hair on his pelt bristling.

Thunder smelled his father's fear-scent and stopped. Alarm shrilled through his tail. He unsheathed his claws as leaves swirled in their path. Was it a fox?

Tiny paws skittered over the forest floor, and a red squirrel leaped from the ground and scooted up the oak trunk.

Thunder rolled his eyes. “I thought it was a
fox
!”

Clear Sky's pelt was still bushed. “Don't be dumb!” he snapped.

Thunder glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye.
Then why did you look so scared?

Clear Sky snorted. “Stop looking at me and watch where you put your paws. I don't want you stubbing them again.” Lashing his tail, he marched past the oak.

Thunder followed, glancing up as the squirrel disappeared between the crisscrossing branches. Raindrops splashed down onto Thunder's muzzle. He shook them off and followed Clear Sky.

The ground beyond the oak sloped down to a glade. Thunder's heart sank as he saw brambles crowding the bottom. He could see a clear route skirting them—a trail through wilted fern stumps. But Clear Sky charged down the slope, heading straight for the brambles. Flattening his ears, Thunder followed.

Clear Sky hopped neatly among the damp stems.

Thunder winced as prickles grazed his paws, until at last the brambles thinned. Through the trees he could see the rain-washed red roofs of Twoleg dens glinting in the weak sunshine. He slowed, smelling unfamiliar scents.