The Sun Trail

Chapter 15

Gray Wing padded through the trees, following Clear Sky’s lead. Jackdaw’s Cry, Falling Feather, and Turtle Tail hunted with them. As always when he left the moor for the forest, Gray Wing felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t hunt down his prey by running when every few paw steps a bramble tendril would trip him, and when the air was laden with so many scents it was hard to follow the one he wanted.

Falling Feather had just caught a mouse, when a loud screech echoed through the trees. It was followed by crashing in the undergrowth, and the furiously yowling voices of more than one cat.

Clear Sky froze, his ears flicking forward. “That’s Moon Shadow!” he exclaimed.

He sprang forward in the direction of the sounds, and the others followed. As Gray Wing wound his way among the ferns he heard Turtle Tail meow behind him. “Wouldn’t you just know that he’d be the one to get into trouble?”

Gray Wing remembered the Twolegplace and the fight with the kittypets. Moon Shadow shouldn’t go off by himself. But we still have to help him.

The brothers burst into a clearing, the other cats hard on their paws. At the far side, Gray Wing spotted Moon Shadow locked in a caterwauling bundle of fur with three other cats. The struggle heaved back and forth at the edge of a bramble thicket; a tail-length or so away was the body of a squirrel.

With an ear-splitting shriek, Clear Sky hurtled across the clearing. He grabbed one cat by the shoulder and hauled him away from Moon Shadow. Gray Wing leaped on top of another and cuffed the cat around the ears until she let go of his friend.

He wasn’t prepared for the cat to turn on him, or for the ferocity of the attack. Before he could think about defending himself claws were raking down his side. He tried to bring up his hind paws to thrust the cat off, but the cat wrapped her forepaws around his neck and clung tightly. Gray Wing jerked his head away to avoid teeth aimed for his throat.

He was dimly aware of more yowling and skirmishing around him. The taste of blood was in his mouth. This cat wants to kill me, he thought, his senses fogged with pain.

Then a heavy weight landed on top of him and his opponent. Gray Wing almost despaired, until he heard a familiar voice raised in an enraged yowl. “Get off him!”

Turtle Tail!

The other cat rolled away and Gray Wing staggered to his paws. He saw that all three strange cats had broken off the fight and stood glaring and hissing at the mountain cats. Gray Wing got a good look at them for the first time. One was the black she-cat with the white paw that he and Clear Sky had met on the rocks a few days before. The others were a small yellow tabby she-cat and a black-and-white tom. Fierce satisfaction surged through him when he saw that they all bore the marks of claws.

Moon Shadow lay panting at the edge of the thicket, a clump of fur torn away from his shoulder. Turtle Tail padded over and helped him to his paws; she had a scratched muzzle, and her fur was ruffled.

“They attacked me!” Moon Shadow exclaimed indignantly.

Turtle Tail was unsympathetic. “What did you think would happen when you wandered off on your own, flea-brain?”

“I told you before,” the black she-cat snapped, glaring at Clear Sky and Gray Wing. “You’re not welcome here. Why don’t you go back where you came from?”

“Yes, and stop stealing our prey,” the black-and-white tom added.

“Your prey?” Moon Shadow was outraged. “I caught that squirrel! That makes it my prey!”

The yellow tabby slid out her claws, her muscles tensed as if she was about to leap at Moon Shadow. Gray Wing braced himself in case the fight erupted again.

“You fight like half-dead rabbits,” the black-and-white tom snarled. “You only won this time because there are more of you. But just watch your tails if you come back.”

“Yeah,” the yellow tabby added. “We’ll be waiting.”

The black she-cat waved her tail and all three forest cats headed off into the undergrowth. At the last moment the yellow tabby darted over to the squirrel, grabbed it, and dragged it away with her.

“Hey!” Moon Shadow protested, starting after her.

Clear Sky barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. “Have you learned nothing?” he demanded. “This isn’t the time to start another fight.”

Huffing indignantly, Moon Shadow got up and followed Clear Sky as he led the way back to the moor. Gray Wing found it hard going; the scratches on his side grew more painful with every step. Jackdaw’s Cry was limping from a torn claw, Falling Feather had lost a pawful of fur, and blood was trickling from Clear Sky’s shoulder.

This is winning? What happens if we lose? Gray Wing wondered.

“You’ve been told time and time again…” Tall Shadow faced Moon Shadow, her voice taut with fury and her tail lashing, “…and still you don’t listen!”

The hunting party had returned to the hollow on the moor, where Clear Sky had reported the clash with the forest cats.

“Because it’s a flea-brained order!” Moon Shadow retorted. “This is a smaller space than we had in the mountains. Why do you want us to sit here trembling like hunted rabbits?”

Gray Wing had to admit that Moon Shadow had a point. The hollow wasn’t comfortable enough for a permanent home, and the prey-rich forest was too tantalizing for every cat to ignore.

Tall Shadow’s fury ebbed and she twitched her whiskers thoughtfully. “Okay, maybe we should hunt more regularly in the forest. We can’t let those cats think they’ve frightened us off.” She fixed her brother with a fierce green glare. “But you don’t go off on your own again, is that clear?”

Moon Shadow shrugged. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d let us hunt there properly.”

Cloud Spots padded up with a mouthful of herbs and set them down. “I managed to find chervil,” he meowed. “Let me put some on your scratches.”

He dabbed juice onto Turtle Tail’s injured muzzle, then turned to Gray Wing, who lay down so that Cloud Spots could treat the scratches on his side.

“You know,” Cloud Spots murmured as he patted the chewed-up leaves into place, “I’m not happy with the idea that we always have to fight these other cats. Maybe we should think about finding a way to live peacefully near them.”

“I’m not sure,” Gray Wing responded. “I wish we could do that, but maybe we’re just too different from them.”

On the following day, the sun had just cleared the horizon when Moon Shadow announced he was going hunting.

Tall Shadow turned to look at him, her tail-tip twitching. Before she could speak, Clear Sky stepped up beside Moon Shadow. “I’ll come with you,” he offered.

Jagged Peak, Quick Water, and Shattered Ice jumped up to join them, and after a moment’s hesitation Tall Shadow gave a mrrow of agreement. “Okay. Good luck.”

“What about you?” Clear Sky asked Gray Wing.

“Not this time,” Gray Wing replied. His scratches from the fight were still sore and he didn’t think he would be much use at tracking prey under the trees. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t afraid of meeting the other cats again.

Once the hunters had gone, Turtle Tail padded over to Gray Wing. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” she suggested. “No catching prey, no getting into fights.”

“That sounds good,” Gray Wing agreed.

When they left the hollow they could still see Clear Sky and the other hunters heading across the moor toward the forest. “Are you following them?” Gray Wing asked, surprised.

“No, I just want to go to the giant oaks again,” Turtle Tail explained. “I like it there!”

The vast hollow was quiet except for the gentle rustling of the oak trees. Sunlight slanted through their branches, dappling the forest floor. Turtle Tail raced down the slope and over to the huge boulder between the four oaks, clawing her way up it until she stood on top.

“Come on!” she called, waving her tail at Gray Wing. “It’s great up here!”

Gray Wing followed her more slowly, and clambered up the rock, digging his claws into tiny cracks, until he stood beside her. The sun-warmed surface felt good under his pads, and he lay down on one side to let the sunlight play over his fur.

Turtle Tail sat beside him, her tail wrapped neatly over her forepaws, and sighed with contentment. “I’d like to stay here forever.”

Drowsing, Gray Wing lost track of time until a voice from the bottom of the rock roused him.

“Hey, you up there!”

Side by side, Gray Wing and Turtle Tail peered over the edge. To his surprise, Gray Wing saw the plump tortoiseshell who had been watching him and Clear Sky when they came to the hollow, looking up with a cheerful gleam in her yellow eyes.

“I’m Bumble,” she announced confidently. “I’m a housecat—though I guess you’d call me a kittypet. Can I come up?”

“Sure,” Turtle Tail invited with a wave of her tail.

To Gray Wing’s eyes, the plump tortoiseshell didn’t look as if she would be able to climb, but within a couple of heartbeats she had heaved herself to the top of the boulder beside them.

“Hello,” Turtle Tail greeted her. “I’m Turtle Tail, and this is Gray Wing.”

“Wow, aren’t you skinny?” Bumble meowed, examining the two mountain cats with a frank gaze. “Haven’t you managed to catch anything to eat?”

“We’ve come a long way,” Turtle Tail responded; Gray Wing was amused to see she looked slightly ruffled. “There wasn’t always time to hunt.”

Bumble blinked curiously. “A long way? How long? From the other side of the moor?”

“Farther than that,” Gray Wing replied.

“You know those jagged rocks on the horizon? Highstones?” said Turtle Tail.

The kittypet’s eyes stretched wide with astonishment. “You came from there?”

Turtle Tail shook her head. “No, from the other side of Highstones. We traveled for many, many sunrises.”

“Why?” Bumble sounded completely flummoxed.

“There wasn’t enough prey to feed all of us where we came from,” Gray Wing explained. “And in the cold season, we would often get stuck in the really deep snow.”

“And sometimes cats got carried off by birds.” There was a gleam in Turtle Tail’s eye, as if she was enjoying shocking this kittypet. “Huge birds—far bigger than the ones around here.”

“That sounds so hard!” Bumble exclaimed. “You must have been cold and hungry and scared all the time. No wonder you came to live here.” She looked around her with a happy flick of her tail. “It’s nice.”

“But you don’t live here, do you?” Turtle Tail asked. “You live with Twolegs. That’s… weird.”

“Weird?” Bumble’s whiskers twitched. “It’s great! My housefolk’s den is so cozy, and there’s always plenty of food, and nothing to be scared of.”

“But what do you do all day?” Turtle Tail asked.

“Sleep, mostly,” the kittypet said. “Or play with my housefolk’s kits. And if I get tired of that, I come here.”

“The wild cats don’t bother you?” Gray Wing asked.

“No. They know I’m no threat to their hunting.”

For a while all three cats lazed in the sun. Gray Wing enjoyed the warmth on his fur, but after a while his growling belly reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since the day before.

Turtle Tail gave him a prod. “We should hunt,” she mewed.

“I’m glad I don’t have to do that!” Bumble gave them a friendly nod and scrambled down the rock. “See you later!”

“What a boring way to live,” Turtle Tail commented, jumping to the forest floor.

Gray Wing hesitated before following her; the rock underneath his paws had been a pleasant reminder of the mountains.

Together the two cats headed back toward the open moor.

“I can’t get used to hunting under trees,” Turtle Tail confided to Gray Wing. “They’re too noisy, and I’m afraid of crashing into them.”

“True,” Gray Wing agreed. “It’s impossible to concentrate on prey.”

Turtle Tail padded on in silence for a while, then murmured, “I wonder if we’ll ever see Bumble again.”

“I doubt it,” Gray Wing responded. “She won’t want to talk to ferocious wild cats like us. We might eat her!”

Turtle Tail let out a mrrow of amusement. A heartbeat later she stiffened. “Rabbit!” she whispered.

By now they had left the trees behind and were climbing up the swell of moorland toward their hollow. The rabbit was hopping about not far from the crest, nibbling the grass.

Both cats sprang forward. But the scratches on Gray Wing’s flank slowed him down, and Turtle Tail surged ahead. The rabbit bolted, vanishing over the crest of the hill, with Turtle Tail racing after it.

When Gray Wing reached the top he looked down to see Turtle Tail standing over the body of the rabbit. “Great catch!” he meowed as he bounded down to join her.

After they had eaten their prey, Gray Wing and Turtle Tail headed back to the hollow. Clear Sky and the rest of the hunting cats caught up as they arrived. Clear Sky was dragging a squirrel, Moon Shadow had a thrush, and the others were carrying mice.

“You should have seen Clear Sky chase that squirrel!” Jagged Peak mumbled around his mouthful of prey. “He went right to the top of the tree!”

Clear Sky’s eyes gleamed with pride. To Gray Wing, his brother looked more like his old self. Maybe the cloud of Bright Stream’s death is starting to lift at last.

Tall Shadow dipped her head to the hunting cats as they carried their prey to the bottom of the hollow and set it down. “Congratulations. You’ve done very well.” As the other cats gathered around, she added, “Thank you, Stoneteller, for sending us to this place where we can find prey.”

While the cats were eating, the sun began to sink behind Highstones, flooding the sky with scarlet. Gray Wing relaxed, glad that, for once, the cats were at peace with one another. Gazing at the landscape, which was starting to feel more familiar, he began to let himself believe that they might have reached the place that Stoneteller promised.

Gray Wing paused at the edge of the moor and looked down at the tops of the four great oak trees. Already they were lusher than when he had first seen them. The sun was shining, the air was full of fresh scents, and he could see new plants springing up all around.

I can’t believe how rich the growth is! It was never like this in the mountains.

Stretching his muscles, Gray Wing ran just for the joy of it, circling the edge of the moor, then heading toward the edge of the gorge. He had avoided the river ever since he had startled Clear Sky into falling, but he remembered the excitement of the thundering water and the rocks that brought the mountains so vividly into his mind.

Gray Wing hadn’t gone far when he heard the squeal of a terrified rabbit and, farther away, the yowl of a hunting cat. He halted as he saw the rabbit come tearing over the crest of the moorland, with the two cats he had met before—Gorse and Wind—close behind. Gray Wing’s instincts told him to join the pursuit, but he wanted to avoid hostility, and dug his claws firmly into the soil.

The rabbit flashed past him, followed by Wind with Gorse a couple of tail-lengths behind. Suddenly the rabbit dived between two stones and vanished into a barely visible hole in the ground. Gray Wing let out a gasp of astonishment as Wind, without breaking stride, dived down the hole after it.

Gorse skidded to a halt. “That’s not fair!” he panted. “You shouldn’t keep going underground just because you’re skinny!”

Gray Wing padded over to the gray tabby tom, who turned to him with a wary look in his eyes. “It’s okay,” Gray Wing meowed. “I’m not looking for a fight. What did you mean, going underground?”

“You saw what she did,” Gorse replied, angling his ears toward the rabbit hole. “She’s so scrawny she can fit down there.”

At that moment Wind reappeared, puffing as she heaved herself out of the hole with the rabbit in her jaws.

Gray Wing watched her, fascinated. “Could I go down there?” he asked.

Wind looked at him, surprised. “If you want,” she replied, dropping the rabbit at Gorse’s paws. “It’s not my home, it’s the rabbit’s.”

Gray Wing padded over to the burrow’s entrance, passing his tongue over his jaws at the strong scent of rabbit. But the hole looked very small, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to try squeezing into it.

Behind him, Wind heaved a huge sigh. “I’ll show you how. You’re skinny enough to get anywhere I can.”

Pushing past Gray Wing, she led the way in. Gray Wing had to follow—otherwise, he would look like a coward in front of these strange cats. He plunged into the hole, his pelt brushing the walls on either side. The burrow was dark and stuffy, and Gray Wing found it harder and harder to put one paw in front of another.

He was wrestling with panic when he felt Wind struggle to turn in front of him and give him a strong shove down a side tunnel. “That way!” she hissed, following him in the new direction.

At once, clearer air stirred Gray Wing’s whiskers and he forced himself forward, with the occasional prod from Wind, until he emerged from another hole among the roots of a gorse bush. He staggered into the open and stood with his chest heaving.

“Mouse-brain!” Wind said, though her voice wasn’t entirely unfriendly. “Don’t do that again. If you panic down there you’ll get lost before you know it.”

Gray Wing was growing calmer now that he was in the fresh air again, with the huge sky above him and the breeze in his whiskers. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea,” he mewed.

But he was still fascinated by the knowledge that there was a network of tunnels underneath the moor. A claw-scratch of memory took him back to the elders’ tales of tunnels in their old home by the lake.

They set some sort of challenge to young cats, who had to find their way out. Gray Wing shivered. I’m glad we don’t do that anymore. I’m not sure my Tribemates would ever see me again.

Gray Wing dipped his head toward Gorse and Wind. “Thanks for showing me,” he meowed. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

The two cats bade him a rather wary farewell. Gray Wing was just relieved that this encounter with them hadn’t been hostile.