The Sun Trail

Chapter 19

The roar of monsters deafened Gray Wing. He could taste their reek as he crept along the hard stone paths of the Twolegplace. Rain was beating down, plastering his pelt to his sides. He felt as if Twoleg filth was soaking into him.

I’ve got to find Turtle Tail!

But Gray Wing had no idea where to find Bumble’s Twoleg nest among all the others that looked and smelled exactly alike. He had picked up Turtle Tail’s scent as he had approached the Twolegplace, but had quickly lost it among all the competing scents of dogs and Twolegs and monsters.

He was padding alongside a Thunderpath when a monster came roaring around a corner and flashed past him. A wave of filthy water surged from its paws, soaking Gray Wing before he could jump out of range.

Haredung!

Even wetter than before, Gray Wing shook his pelt and looked around. The Thunderpath stretched ahead of him, lined by dens of red stone on either side. He had no idea where to start looking for Turtle Tail; he wasn’t even sure how to get back to the forest.

I’m lost!

“You again!” The voice spoke from behind Gray Wing. “What are you doing here?”

Gray Wing spun around. Facing him was the silver tabby she-cat he had met in the forest. Hot embarrassment scorched through him. She was the last cat he would have wanted to see him bedraggled and reeking and lost.

“Hello, um… you never told me your name,” he mewed, knowing that he sounded completely flea-brained.

The she-cat rolled her eyes. “Like you need to know it.”

“I told you mine,” Gray Wing retorted, injured.

“So you did… Gray Whatsit.” The silver tabby heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, it’s Storm. Happy now? And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here. Are you lost?”

“Well… sort of,” Gray Wing confessed.

Storm let out a snort. “Honestly, you’re worse than a kit! You couldn’t find your own tail if you used all four paws. Where do you want to go?”

“I think my friend is here,” Gray Wing explained. “She’s probably with a cat called Bumble. Bumble’s a tortoiseshell… quite plump, with a white chest and white paws.”

“Oh, I know her,” Storm replied. “I’ll show you her housefolk’s den if you like.”

“That would be great.” Gray Wing was relieved that he didn’t have to wander around on his own in this dreadful place anymore, but he wished it hadn’t been Storm who had helped him. She’ll think I’m a complete mouse-brain.

Storm waved her tail for him to follow her, rounding the next corner and slipping down a narrow path between two Twoleg dens.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Gray Wing meowed, trying to sound friendly. “You don’t look like a kittypet.”

Storm halted and glared at him. “I am not a kittypet!” she snarled.

Gray Wing kept quiet after that. If I open my mouth again I’ll only say the wrong thing!

At last Storm halted beside a section of Twoleg fence. “Through there,” she told Gray Wing, gesturing with her tail. Then she tapped him on the nose with one paw, fortunately with her claws sheathed. “Sure you’ll be okay now?”

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” Gray Wing replied.

As the silver tabby turned away, she glanced back, her green eyes glittering with humor. “I’ll see you the next time you need rescuing.”

Gray Wing watched her until she was out of sight, then squeezed through a hole in the Twoleg fence. A narrow path led up to the den, with grass on either side, surrounded by bushy plants with brightly colored flowers. When he tasted the air, he could pick up Turtle Tail’s scent, and another that he recognized as Bumble’s.

“Turtle Tail!” he yowled.

No cat appeared. Gray Wing waited so long that he was afraid the two cats had left the den. Maybe Turtle Tail is on her way home, and I’ve come all this way for nothing!

Then at last a small flap in the side of the den opened, and Turtle Tail and Bumble came bundling out. “Gray Wing!” Turtle Tail bounded up to him, excitement in her eyes. “You’ve come to visit at last. I’m so glad!”

“No, I’m here to take you home,” Gray Wing replied.

Turtle Tail’s excitement faded, to be replaced by fury. “I don’t need rescuing!” she snapped. “I only stayed overnight because it was raining! Bumble’s housefolk were really kind,” she added. “They even gave me food.”

“They’re Twolegs, not ‘housefolk,’” Gray Wing hissed, shocked. “Have you forgotten you’re a wild cat?”

“No,” Turtle Tail retorted. “Have you forgotten your manners?”

Gray Wing remembered that Bumble was standing a couple of tail-lengths away, looking embarrassed.

“Bumble, I’m sorry about Gray Wing,” Turtle Tail meowed. “He’s not usually such a pain in the tail.”

Gray Wing let out a hiss of anger. She doesn’t need to apologize for me!

Bumble ducked her head. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll come back with you,” Turtle Tail told Gray Wing, her tail-tip twitching irritably. “But only to stop you from making a scene. Good-bye, Bumble. I’ll see you by the big oaks tomorrow.”

She stalked off, squeezing through the Twoleg fence. Gray Wing gave Bumble an awkward nod and followed her.

“I’m sorry I annoyed you,” Gray Wing meowed after they had been walking for a while. “I was worried.”

Turtle Tail glanced at him, her face softening. “Well, I’m sorry for staying out so long. But I didn’t want to walk all the way back when the rain was so heavy. And it was great staying in Bumble’s den! Her food looks a bit like rabbit droppings, but it tastes good. And I slept on one of the soft rocks I told you about.”

Her voice trailed off and there was a shadow of disappointment in her eyes. Gray Wing felt a bit guilty that he couldn’t be more interested in Bumble’s den. But we don’t belong with Twolegs, and that’s all there is to it.

Gray Wing padded through the trees, alert for prey, wondering whether to pay a visit to Clear Sky and Jagged Peak. Two sunrises had passed since the heavy rain, and the sun was shining, though the ground was still wet underpaw.

Sounds from deeper in the forest made Gray Wing’s ears prick, but he realized at once that they weren’t made by prey. Instead he heard a vicious snarling, and a voice that exclaimed, “Filthy prey-stealer!”

Terrified that one of his Tribemates was being attacked, Gray Wing raced through the trees toward the sound. Bursting out of an elder thicket, he spotted two of the forest cats: a white tom and the small yellow she-cat he had seen before. They had trapped a third cat among the gnarled roots of an oak tree. Gray Wing’s heart beat faster as he realized the third cat was Storm.

“Strangers aren’t welcome here,” the white tom growled. “So clear off!”

“But I’m not a stranger!” Storm protested. “I’ve lived here all my life.”

Instead of arguing further, the small she-cat slashed her claws at Storm, who pressed herself back against the roots.

“Leave her alone!” Gray Wing yowled, leaping forward and throwing himself on top of the white tom.

The tom turned on him with a snarl, his claws flashing. Gray Wing battered him with his hind paws, and they rolled over and over among the debris on the forest floor. He was dimly aware that Storm and the yellow she-cat were grappling together with furious hisses.

Gray Wing winced as the white tom caught him with a stinging blow on the shoulder. He lunged forward, trying to fasten his teeth in the cat’s white furry throat, but the tom jerked his head away. Gray Wing’s teeth met in his ear instead.

The white tom let out a screech and tore himself away. Blood trickled from his ear as he scrambled to his paws and fled. The yellow she-cat followed him, pausing to look back and snarl, “This isn’t over!”

Panting, Gray Wing and Storm stood side by side, watching as the two rogues vanished into the undergrowth.

“You didn’t have to interfere,” Storm snapped with a single lash of her tail. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I guess it was my turn to rescue you,” Gray Wing retorted. Inwardly he admired the silver tabby’s courage and her refusal to admit that she needed any cat. But it would be nice to be thanked.

“Now that you’re here,” Storm began, “why don’t you show me where you and your friends have been living? I’ve heard all about you, you know.”

Warm pleasure flooded over Gray Wing. “Follow me,” he purred.

He led the way through the trees and climbed up until they were close to the hollow where the cats were living.

“It’s not very sheltered,” Storm mewed doubtfully.

“Oh, it’s dry and warm under the gorse bushes,” Gray Wing assured her. “And we like the open spaces. They remind us of where we used to live.”

“Where was that?” Storm asked.

“You see those peaks over there?” Gray Wing pointed toward Highstones with his tail. “Well, the place we came from is a bit like that, though the mountains are even higher. And they’re so far away that you can’t even see them from here.”

Storm’s green eyes widened; Gray Wing was pleased that for once he’d been able to impress her. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “I’m surprised you have any paws left, walking all that way!”

As Gray Wing was about to reply, he spotted Turtle Tail emerging from the gorse bushes that surrounded the hollow. She headed in their direction.

“Turtle Tail!” Gray Wing called. “Come and meet Storm.”

Turtle Tail padded up and dipped her head to the silver tabby she-cat. “I’m Turtle Tail,” she meowed politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Where are you off to?” Gray Wing asked her.

Immediately Turtle Tail’s neck fur began to fluff up. “Not the Twolegplace, if that’s what you think!” she snapped.

Storm’s ears flicked up and she flashed a surprised glance at Gray Wing.

Gray Wing sighed. “It’s too complicated to explain,” he told her.

Leaving Turtle Tail to go her own way, Gray Wing and Storm headed back toward the trees.

“Can we meet again tomorrow?” Gray Wing asked her when they reached the edge of the forest. “You could show me around the woods.”

Storm’s green eyes glittered. “From what I’ve heard, you and your friends have already been over every mouse-length!” Before Gray Wing had time to feel disappointed, her gaze softened. “Okay. I’ll meet you by the four big oaks at sunhigh.”

Brushing her tail against Gray Wing’s cheek, she turned and trotted away. Gray Wing watched until she disappeared into a clump of fern.

As Gray Wing turned and began climbing the moorland slope again, he spotted Rainswept Flower sitting on a rock just above him.

“I saw you there,” she mewed, a spark of mischief in her blue eyes. “Who would have thought it—Gray Wing falling for a rogue!”

“It’s nothing like that,” Gray Wing mumbled, tearing at the rough turf with his claws. But he couldn’t stop a thought from creeping into his mind: I wonder if Storm would ever consider moving to the moor?