Thunder Rising

Chapter 20

Dawn light woke Gray Wing where he lay in the den with Turtle Tail and the kits. They were still sleeping, the kits sprawled over their mother’s body. Turtle Tail’s tail was wrapped against her nose, its fur riffling with every breath she took.

Gray Wing watched her, his heart swelling with affection. He remembered how pleased she had been when he caught up to the others on their journey from the mountains. She had observed him silently when he fell in love with Storm. Now Gray Wing understood why she had left the moor to go and live with Bumble and the Twolegs.

I drove her to it, he realized. All this time, she’s cared for me as more than a friend, and what did I do? I ignored her. But not any longer, he resolved.

Turtle Tail’s escape from the Twoleg den, and the comfort she’d given him over the moon they’d been denmates, had made Gray Wing see her with new eyes. Turtle Tail had always been beside him.

We care for each other. No, it was more than caring. Gray Wing knew that he loved this cat.

“Hey!” A paw prodded him in the side. “Go and catch me some prey, flea-pelt.”

Turtle Tail was awake, her green eyes alight with mischief. Gray Wing let out a snort of laughter.

“Who are you calling flea-pelt? Okay, okay, I’m going.”

Gray Wing rose to his paws, gave his fur a shake and padded to the mouth of the den. The dawn chill enveloped him as he stepped into fresh air. The pale sky was streaked with clouds, only the faintest rosy flush showing where the sun would rise.

Heading out of the hollow, Gray Wing felt more alive than ever before. His injured paws had healed and even his breathing seemed to feel better, despite his recent collapse. Leaving the mountains was the best decision I ever made.

Gray Wing knew that if he hadn’t made that choice, he would never have become the father to Sparrow Fur, Pebble Heart, and Owl Eyes, kits he now loved as his own. And if the next cold season was as easy as the last, the kits would grow up strong and healthy. He wouldn’t have felt the same confidence in the mountains, where the cold could kill.

As Gray Wing reached the top of the hollow and struck out across the moor, he heard paw steps following him, and a high-pitched squeak of excitement. He stopped and turned, knowing exactly what he would see.

The three kits scampered up to him.

“We want to hunt with you,” Owl Eyes announced, his whiskers quivering. “For real this time. No more pretend foxes!”

Gray Wing shook his head. “Sorry. You’re too young.”

“Please!” Sparrow Fur fixed him with beseeching green eyes. “No kit is too young to learn good hunting skills.”

Gray Wing fixed her with a stern look. Where did she pick that up, I wonder? “If you think you can get around me… ,” he began.

“We’ll be good!” Pebble Heart mewed, jumping up and down.

Gray Wing found he couldn’t resist their pleading. “Okay,” he agreed. “But stay close together, and close to me, and do exactly what I tell you. Understood?”

All three kits nodded vigorously.

“Come on, then.”

Gray Wing led the way onto the moor, his ears and nose alert for the signs of prey. The kits followed him, behaving themselves for once, their excitement showing only in the twitching of their whiskers and their wide, shining eyes.

Soon Gray Wing picked up the scent of a hare, and located it in the long grass at the edge of a stream. At first he could only see the black tips of its ears, but gradually he distinguished the outline of its body among the grass stems. It seemed to be a young one, not yet fully grown.

“Be very quiet,” he murmured to the kits, pointing with his tail. “Look over there.”

The kits stared in the direction his tail was indicating. Then Pebble Heart turned to him, blinking a little in distress. “It’s only a kit!” he mewed.

“Yes, won’t its mother and father be upset when it doesn’t come home?” Sparrow Fur added.

Owl Eyes was looking upset, too.

For a moment Gray Wing didn’t know how to answer. Then he sat down and gathered the kits closer with a sweep of his tail. “I understand how you feel,” he meowed. Clearly they weren’t as ready for hunting as they thought they were. “But we can’t take our hearts hunting, not if we want to survive. We have to be tough. I’ve seen a cat die of hunger…” His voice quivered a little as he remembered his sister Fluttering Bird. “I don’t want to see it happen ever again. Do you understand?”

The kits exchanged uncertain glances. “I… I guess so,” Owl Eyes replied at last.

“Then I’m going to show you how to hunt this hare,” Gray Wing went on more briskly. “And I want you to remember that hares can be dangerous. Their back legs are very powerful. One kick could break a cat’s spine. Now watch.”

Gray Wing checked the hare again; it was sitting with its back to them, and so far it hadn’t noticed them. “The breeze is blowing toward us,” he murmured. “Do you know why that’s good?”

All three kits thought for a moment.

“Because we can scent the hare,” Sparrow Fur responded brightly. “But it can’t scent us.”

“Right.” As the little kit puffed out her chest proudly, Gray Wing added, “Now stay here and don’t move.”

Gray Wing began stalking cautiously toward the hare. There was no cover between him and the clump of grass where the hare was hiding, and he didn’t want to alert it by a sudden movement.

He had covered about half the distance before the hare suddenly sat erect. Knowing it had sensed him, Gray Wing hurtled toward it, calling on every scrap of speed he could manage. He leaped upon the hare as it bounded out of cover, swerving to avoid its back legs, and to break its neck with one skillful twist of his jaws. The hare fell to the ground and lay still.

Gray Wing turned to beckon the kits with his tail. As they padded toward him, sudden spots began to dance before his eyes and his vision was obscured by glittering darkness. Pain was gnawing at his lungs, and he could hardly breathe. Not again!

The kits gathered around him, letting out anxious squeaks. Their small, furry bodies pressed up against him.

“You’re not ill again, are you?” one of them asked.

He pushed them away as he filled his lungs with air. Yes, yes… not so bad this time. If I can just gather myself. But he heard one of the kittens yowl with pain and he realized he hadn’t been as gentle as he’d hoped. Panic must have made his paws strike out harder than he’d meant.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The kits looked at each other. Finally Owl Eyes muttered, “It’s okay.”

Pebble Heart came scampering up. He dropped something small on the ground and cautiously approached Gray Wing. “May I listen to your chest?” he asked.

Gray Wing eyed him doubtfully. I’m not in the mood for games. But Pebble Heart’s expression was deeply serious, and some instinct told Gray Wing to agree. “Okay,” he mewed, lying down again and rolling onto his back. He allowed Pebble Heart to place his ear against his chest and listen to his breathing.

After a moment Pebble Heart pulled away. “It’s not too bad,” he mewed. “But I brought you a juniper berry to help.” He picked up the small object and dropped it beside Gray Wing.

Gray Wing stared at it for a moment, blinking. Well, I don’t suppose it can do any harm… He licked the berry up, chewed, and swallowed it.

Almost at once Gray Wing felt the last of his tight breathing subside. Astonishment spread through him as his pain ebbed. “How did you know to do that?” he asked, sitting up again.

Pebble Heart studied his paws, looking a bit embarrassed. “I just sort of worked it out for myself,” he admitted.

Gray Wing felt a pang of anxiety. “I hope you don’t start eating random stuff to see what it does,” he meowed.

“Oh, no!” Pebble Heart relaxed a little. “I listen to Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots, so I know which herbs are good and which are dangerous.”

Gray Wing nodded thoughtfully. There was something special about Pebble Heart. Which other kit of his age would want to learn about herbs and know just the right one to bring back in a moment like this? He remembered Stoneteller, back in the mountains, who had so recently visited his dreams. I know she had visions sometimes, he thought. I wonder if this young kit is born to be like the Stoneteller?

“Do you ever have dreams?” he asked the kit gently.

Pebble Heart looked away quickly. “No.”

Gray Wing knew very well that Pebble Heart wasn’t telling the truth, but he decided to say no more for now. There’ll be a better opportunity to discuss this, when the other kits aren’t listening.

“Well, thank you,” he meowed. “I feel much better. Let’s head back to camp now.”

He grabbed up the hare and the kits helped him to carry it as he led the way back to the hollow. When they arrived, Turtle Tail was sitting outside her den, grooming herself. The kits dropped the hare and pelted over to her as soon as they saw her, huddling close to her as she gave each of them an affectionate lick behind their ears.

“You’re trembling!” she exclaimed. Looking past them to Gray Wing as he approached more slowly, she asked, “What happened out there?”

Gray Wing set the hare down in front of her. “Are you proud of your kits?” he asked. “They did well on their first hunt.”

Turtle Tail fixed him with a long stare. “Answer my question,” she meowed. “What happened out there?”

Before Gray Wing could think how to reply, Sparrow Fur exploded into speech. “Gray Wing killed a hare, but then his breathing went funny again. He pushed us away.”

“Pebble Heart brought him a berry,” Owl Eyes added.

Gray Wing saw fury flash into Turtle Tail’s eyes, but her voice was quiet as she mewed, “Kits, take the hare down into the center of the camp so that we can all share. Now,” she snapped as the kits hesitated.

“I’ll help them,” Jagged Peak offered, padding up. “Come on, kits.”

“Thanks, Jagged Peak,” Turtle Tail meowed.

Gray Wing couldn’t suppress an irritated twitch of his tail. Jagged Peak is always nearby when the kits need anything.

With Jagged Peak supervising, Sparrow Fur, Pebble Heart, and Owl Eyes began dragging the hare away, while Turtle Tail and Gray Wing gazed at each other. Once the kits were out of earshot, Turtle Tail rose to her paws.

“Let’s go for a walk.” She led the way up the slope without waiting to see if Gray Wing was following.

Turtle Tail didn’t speak again until she and Gray Wing had reached the shelter of the gorse bushes near the top of the hollow. Then she turned and faced him. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

Gray Wing understood very well what she was getting at, but he had no idea how to reply. “Uh… what do you mean?” he asked, playing for time.

Turtle Tail gave her tail a single lash. “Too much time has already been wasted by the two of us not talking to each other,” she began. “Not anymore. I’m not stupid, you know! I’ve seen you struggling with your breathing, ever since the forest fire. You can’t even teach your own kits—or as good as your own kits—to hunt without there being a problem. And then to push them aside like that? What were you thinking?”

Gray Wing felt as though everything was piling up on him, like an avalanche in the mountains.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” he demanded when Turtle Tail stopped at last for breath. “Trying to keep a camp of cats happy? Asking myself if Tall Shadow made the right choice when she wanted me to take over as leader? I didn’t ask to be any cat’s leader, and now I can’t sleep for worrying about the others! Do you really think the other cats need to know that I’m struggling with my health?” He let out a long sigh. “I don’t feel like a leader,” he continued. “I couldn’t get the cats out of the forest when the fire spread. If it hadn’t been for Thunder taking the lead and River Ripple guiding us…” His head drooped in shame, listening to the rattle of his breathing.

When he looked up again, he saw that the anger had died from Turtle Tail’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s only because I care. I don’t want to see you become more ill. And I definitely don’t want to hear about you pushing the kits away.”

“It won’t happen again,” Gray Wing meowed, struggling against the fog of depression and inadequacy that surrounded him. “I needed some air, that’s all it was.”

“And next time?” Turtle Tail asked.

“There won’t be a next time,” Gray Wing assured her. He could tell that his breathing was getting better—he was sure of it.

He met Turtle Tail’s steady gaze. Thankfully, she didn’t pursue the argument.

Together, their pelts brushing, they turned back toward the camp.

Turtle Tail opened her jaws to say something, but there was a scuffling in the undergrowth. A hot, unwelcome scent hit Gray Wing in the throat.

“Dogs!” he exclaimed.

Two of the panting beasts leaped out of the bushes and stood growling on the path in front of them. Gray Wing thrust Turtle Tail toward a nearby stunted thorn tree and scrambled after her into the branches.

The dogs had seen them, and snuffled around their tree, leaping up to plant their huge paws on the trunk. Gray Wing looked down, not daring to move. The dogs were both huge, with sleek black pelts and flopping ears. Their jaws gaped and their tongues lolled as they panted in their eagerness to get at the cats.

“Now what do we do?” Turtle Tail asked, frozen with fear as she dug her claws into the branch.

Gray Wing didn’t reply. He remembered what Shaded Moss had once said about dogs: It’s an animal you don’t want to meet. And here were these two, not many tail-lengths from the camp!

His chest tightening, Gray Wing felt it was almost as if the dogs had turned up to prove Turtle Tail’s point. Everything began swirling in front of his eyes. Don’t let me fall out of the tree! he thought desperately.

Sensing his distress, Turtle Tail pressed her body against Gray Wing’s flank, gently pinning him between her and the tree trunk. “Thanks,” he whispered, realizing that he wouldn’t fall now that she was supporting him.

Loud paw steps sounded from beyond the gorse bushes, and a Twoleg voice was raised in a loud yowl. One of the dogs glanced around, but neither of them moved away from the tree.

Then two Twolegs appeared farther down the path and stomped up to the dogs on their heavy paws. They spoke harshly; Gray Wing didn’t understand the words, but he recognized the angry tone. The Twolegs pulled long tendrils from their pelts and fastened them to the dogs’ necks, dragging them away from the tree.

The dogs resisted, their paws skidding on the ground as they went on snarling and snapping at the two cats. Finally the Twolegs gave the tendrils a vicious jerk, and the dogs stopped pulling and walked quietly alongside them down the path.

Gray Wing puffed out his breath in relief. “Imagine being under orders like that!” he exclaimed with a disgusted snort. “Those dogs are pathetic. And the Twolegs must be flea-brained to want them around.”

Too late, he remembered that Turtle Tail had once lived in a Twolegplace, but she was already climbing down the tree trunk to the ground. Gray Wing hurried to follow her, his paws slipping on the rough bark. “I’m sorry,” he called out. “I didn’t mean anything by it!”

When Turtle Tail turned to face him, Gray Wing was thankful to see that her eyes were glimmering with laughter. “It’s okay. You don’t need to worry,” she told him. “You looked pretty scared, though, for a cat who thinks dogs are pathetic.”

Gray Wing breathed a sigh of relief. He never wanted to quarrel with Turtle Tail; her anger over the hunt and his treatment of the kits had struck him like a claw in his heart.

“Thank you for agreeing to keep my secret a bit longer,” he meowed as he and Turtle Tail padded back to the camp. Turtle Tail drew ahead a couple of paw steps, and glanced back over her shoulder.

“I never agreed to any such thing,” she pointed out. “Come on. Let’s get home.”