Thunder Rising

Chapter 3

“How about I give you a tour of the hollow and the moors?” Gray Wing suggested to Turtle Tail. He wanted to dispel the tension left by Tall Shadow’s departure. “You should get to know them again. Besides,” he added, teasingly, “you might have gotten soft after living with Twolegs.”

“Rude furball!” Turtle Tail exclaimed, batting at him with one paw, though there was a glimmer of affection in her eyes.

“Okay, not soft,” Gray Wing agreed. “But come on, let me show you around anyway.” The idea of being alone with Turtle Tail was comforting. I missed her so much, he realized. Now that she had returned, he could see the enormous hole she had left in his life when she went away.

But as they headed up the slope out of the hollow, Rainswept Flower called over to them. “Can I come too? I’d love the chance to catch up with Turtle Tail.”

“Of course,” Gray Wing replied, though not without a pang of regret. I wanted Turtle Tail all to myself! But then he cast a sidelong glance at her and felt a thrill pass over him. It didn’t matter—she wasn’t going anywhere. There would be plenty of time to talk. And Rainswept Flower is such a great cat; we’re lucky to have her in the hollow.

As Rainswept Flower raced to join them, Gray Wing spotted a flicker of movement and saw Jagged Peak emerging from his nest. “Can I come too?” the young cat asked.

Gray Wing shook his head. “No,” he responded gently. “Stay in the hollow and build up your strength.”

Jagged Peak looked stricken at his refusal, his tail trailing on the ground as he turned away.

“Jagged Peak, wait!” Rainswept Flower turned back and went to touch noses with the little gray tom. “When we come back, I promise I’ll help you with your exercises.”

“I’m sick of exercising,” Jagged Peak meowed, his voice shaking. “It’s so boring!”

Rainswept Flower glanced at Gray Wing, who was waiting with Turtle Tail near the top of the hollow. “I’ll be back soon,” she assured Jagged Peak. “We all will. Really, you’re not missing out on anything special.” Touching the young cat’s nose again, she headed back toward Gray Wing.

As they turned to leave, Gray Wing could feel Jagged Peak’s gaze boring into his back. “That was kind,” he commented to Rainswept Flower.

Rainswept Flower blinked at him. “I think we all should do more to help Jagged Peak,” she suggested. “It’s no good constantly telling him that he can’t do things.”

“You may be right,” Gray Wing admitted, with a twinge of guilt. “Thanks for being so sensitive.”

The tabby she-cat twitched her whiskers. “It was nothing.”

The three cats left the hollow side by side, and headed across the moor in the direction of the river. Gray Wing reveled in the warm breeze that ruffled his fur, and the scent of fresh growing things that wafted along with it. They passed a moorland pool where reeds waved gently and sunlight glittered on the surface of the water.

As they were picking their way up a slope covered with gorse bushes, a rabbit suddenly darted across their path, its eyes wide with terror, then vanished into the gorse before any cat could try to intercept it.

“Hmm… ,” Gray Wing commented. “Where there’s a fleeing rabbit, there’s bound to be—there she is!”

As he spoke, the rogue she-cat Wind emerged from one of the bushes, her brown pelt untidy and a disgusted expression on her face. “Stupid creature!” she spat. “I nearly had it!”

Gray Wing let out a mrrow of laughter. “You must be getting slow in your old age!”

Wind slid her claws out threateningly, which amused Gray Wing even more. He knew very well that Wind wouldn’t attack him; they had come a long way since their first hostile meeting when Gray Wing had killed the rabbit Wind and her friend Gorse were chasing.

As if Gray Wing’s thought had called him up, Gorse appeared now, a skinny tabby shape slipping out from the shelter of the bushes. Turtle Tail glanced at Gray Wing, looking cautious and worried, as the cat stepped forward. Of course! She never knew the two rogues well when she lived on the moor.

“It’s okay,” Rainswept Flower reassured her, brushing Turtle Tail’s shoulder with her tail-tip. “Gorse and Wind are our friends.”

Gray Wing remembered talking to Tall Shadow a few moons ago, discussing whether it would be a good idea to invite the rogues to join them in the hollow. In the end, Tall Shadow had decided against admitting them. But who knows what the future holds? Gray Wing asked himself. I won’t say anything to Gorse and Wind now, but maybe in a while…

“How has the hunting been?” Gray Wing asked Wind. He admired the way she would dive down into the tunnels to hunt the rabbits in their own burrows. She knew the whole network of tunnels that lay beneath the moor.

And that might be useful one day.

Wind gave a snort of disgust. “There’s plenty of prey,” she replied, “but hunting is becoming… complicated.”

“Why don’t you say it straight out?” Gorse demanded, with the beginnings of a snarl. “Clear Sky is refusing to let us hunt in the forest. Can you believe it? How dare Clear Sky tell us where we can and can’t hunt?”

Wind nodded in agreement. “The problem is, all the hunting around here is awkward now. One argument after another.” Flicking her tail angrily, she added, “The other day I met a couple of other rogues—Thorn and Dew—at the edge of the moor. They’d never been exactly friendly, but we mostly left each other alone, and we were happy with that. But that day we ended up chasing the same hare. It was big enough to feed all of us, and there was a time we would have shared it.”

“That’s right,” Gorse put in. “But this time Thorn and Dew dragged the prey away. They threatened to claw our pelts off if we came anywhere near it.” He shook his head in confusion. “It never used to be like this. Not until…” He glanced at them.

Gray Wing saw Rainswept Flower’s tail begin to twitch, and she took a pace forward. “Are you blaming the mountain cats?” she demanded.

Turtle Tail gave Gray Wing an anxious look, as if she expected a fight to break out. Gray Wing rested his tail-tip on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” he murmured, hoping he was right, and realizing that he would have to report this to Tall Shadow.

Gorse’s neck fur began to bristle, but Wind shouldered him away and faced Rainswept Flower. “We’re not blaming you,” she meowed. “At least, not all of you.” Letting out a sigh, she turned to Turtle Tail. “I know you, don’t I?” she meowed.

“Yes, this is Turtle Tail,” Gray Wing responded. “She left the moor for a bit”—no need to tell them she lived as a kittypet—“but she’s back now.”

Wind narrowed her eyes and gave Turtle Tail an assessing look. “I think she’s okay,” she mewed to Gorse. “Should I show you some of the best hunting areas around here?” she added to Turtle Tail. “You need to know, if times are going to get more difficult.”

“Yes… yes, thanks,” Turtle Tail stammered, looking taken aback. It must be hard for her, realizing that life out here isn’t as perfect as she’d imagined.

But once again Gray Wing was impressed by how kind and friendly Wind could be, even in the midst of her own troubles.

Rainswept Flower obviously realized it, too. “I shouldn’t have taken offense,” she mewed, blinking apologetically. “It’s just that… well, you’re right that times are more challenging now.”

Wind twitched her whiskers. “It’s okay.”

Gorse and Wind led the way toward the river, following a tiny stream that trickled along a deep cleft in the moorland, a place where the mountain cats had never hunted before. The stream was edged with long grass and ferns that overhung the water.

“This place is no good for rabbits,” Wind explained as Gray Wing gazed around in amazement. “But you can generally find a mouse or two, or a vole, where the plants grow thickest.”

“Thanks for showing us,” Gray Wing responded, enjoying the dazzle of sunlight on the ripples and the gentle gurgling sound the water made. “Why haven’t we searched for prey here?”

Wind stifled a snort of laughter. “You just have to know where to look!”

“And now this way.” Gorse leaped across the stream and scrambled up the side of the cleft onto the open moor again. “There are always a few rabbits around here,” he panted as he waited for the others to join him. “You can see some of their holes over there,” he added, pointing with his tail toward a steep rocky bank with a few scrawny bushes clinging to the thin soil between the stones.

Gray Wing tasted the air. Gorse was right; there was a strong smell of rabbit, and he spotted several piles of their droppings among the grass.

“You’re carrying some extra weight,” Wind mewed to Turtle Tail as they set off again.

Turtle Tail gave her shoulder a couple of embarrassed licks. “My kits should be here soon,” she murmured.

“Then you need some easy hunting,” Gorse told her. “Maybe a nice, fat pigeon that can’t get too far. Let’s head for the river.”

The rest of the cats followed Gorse. Gray Wing pricked his ears, listening for the weird clacking call that would tell him there were pigeons around.

“Over there.” Rainswept Flower angled her ears forward and Gray Wing picked up the sounds of several pigeons, though he couldn’t see anything.

“Stupid birds,” Gorse muttered. “They don’t know when to stay quiet.”

The cats prowled ahead more slowly. The moorland had given way to sandy soil and rocky outcrops with tussocks of wiry grass and bushes here and there. Gray Wing still couldn’t spot any prey until Turtle Tail halted and raised her tail.

“Under that bush,” she whispered.

Gray Wing peered hard and finally made out the pinkish breast of a pigeon that was pecking at something on the ground between two boulders close to the edge of the river.

“Your eyes are sharp,” he breathed. This is so great—hunting in a new place, and with Turtle Tail.

“Yes!” Gorse flashed past him, clearly unable to resist making the catch.

The pigeon took flight with sharp flicks of its wings, but Gorse hurled himself at it and gripped its tail with his claws. Two or three more birds broke out of the bushes as he sprang, and soared upward, well out of danger. Gorse’s pigeon struggled frantically; one of its wing tips caught Gorse in the face and he tumbled backward, losing his grip on its tail feathers.

Wind sighed. “I suppose I’d better finish the job.”

As she spoke she raced forward and made a ferocious leap as the pigeon took off. Sinking her claws into its breast, she wrestled it to the ground again and held it until it stopped struggling.

Turtle Tail’s eyes were glimmering with amusement. “Do you think we should show them how to catch birds?” she whispered to Gray Wing.

Gray Wing gave his head a tiny shake. “We might offend them.” But we made cleaner kills than that in the mountains.

Wind looked up from her prey with a feather stuck between her teeth. “Come and share,” she invited.

Gray Wing, Turtle Tail, and Rainswept Flower headed toward her, all three trying to hide amusement.

“I thought we were supposed to be showing Turtle Tail how to catch fat, lazy pigeons,” Rainswept Flower mewed innocently.

“Well, I’ve certainly learned something,” Turtle Tail responded.

When they were all crouched around the pigeon, taking bites of the warm flesh, she continued, “I’m glad I came back. Hunting has never looked like such fun!”

“Remember that there are tensions now,” Gray Wing warned her, swallowing a mouthful.

“What tensions?” a new voice chimed in.

Gray Wing stiffened. Looking around, he spotted a silver-furred cat sitting on a rock in the middle of the river. Water swirled a mouse-length beneath his paws and his elegantly curled tail.

“Who’s that?” Rainswept Flower exclaimed, shocked. “What cat likes sitting near water?”

The silver cat leaped neatly across a line of stones and climbed the bank until he stood beside them. He looked friendly and completely at ease. “Hi,” he meowed. “My name’s River Ripple.”

Wind and Gorse exchanged a glance; clearly the newcomer was a stranger to them, too.

“Are you a rogue?” Gray Wing asked.

River Ripple shrugged. “I don’t like giving myself labels. I live by the river”—he flicked his tail toward the opposite bank—“and that’s all any cat needs to know.”

“I’m Gray Wing, and this is Turtle Tail and Rainswept Flower,” Gray Wing began with a polite dip of his head. “And these two are Gorse and Wind.”

As he spoke, he noticed that River Ripple was only half listening; he was eyeing the remains of the pigeon. “That looks tasty,” he remarked, swiping his tongue around his whiskers.

Gray Wing snorted with amusement, and pushed the rest of the prey over to the silver tom. That was a pretty heavy hint!

“Thanks.” River Ripple bent his head and demolished the pigeon in a series of neat, rapid bites.

“I’ve never seen a cat eat so delicately,” Turtle Tail commented.

Neither have I, Gray Wing thought. So elegant, even when he’s hungry!

River Ripple met Turtle Tail’s gaze, then shrugged. “I’m a cat full of surprises,” he meowed. He dipped his head to the others, then, with a flash of his tail, raced back across the stones and plunged into the undergrowth on the opposite bank of the river.

Gray Wing and his friends looked at one another. “I think that was his way of saying good-bye,” Gray Wing meowed. I’ve never met such a strange cat!

“Weird… ,” Wind murmured.

Before any of the others could speak, a series of guttural, angry noises sounded above the rushing of the river. Gray Wing felt a prickle of uneasiness, and exchanged an alarmed glance with Turtle Tail. “What’s that?” he asked.

The noises came again, louder and closer this time.

“Dogs!” Wind exclaimed.

A rush of panic invaded Gray Wing, and he fought to stay calm. “We have to find shelter!” he exclaimed. Even as he spoke, he realized that he had no idea where to go. We don’t know this place!

Wind nodded. “You’re right. Come on, Gorse. Let’s go to our nest—quickly.” As she and the tabby tom slunk off down a gully, she glanced over her shoulder. “You’d better get back to the hollow as fast as you can,” she told the mountain cats. With a flourish of her tail, she added, “It’s that way.”

Gray Wing and the others had already risen to their paws. Leaving the last scraps of the pigeon, they raced across the moor. Gray Wing would have liked to move even faster, but he had to match his pace to Turtle Tail’s; with her extra weight, she was struggling to keep up. The barking continued behind them; Gray Wing couldn’t tell if they were outpacing the dogs.

“Are you okay?” he asked Turtle Tail. He could hear her panting.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Turtle Tail gasped. “Pull ahead if you need to.”

“Never!” Gray Wing retorted. “I’m not leaving you.”

Eventually the camp came into view. With Rainswept Flower in the lead they skidded down the slope.

“Dogs!” Gray Wing yowled.

More barking exploded into the air just behind them. How had the dogs been able to find their way here? Cold horror froze Gray Wing from ears to tail-tip. We’ve led the dogs straight to the camp. Our fresh scent has given us away!

Tall Shadow, who was sitting on the tall rock at the far end of the hollow, leaped to her paws. “Scatter!” she yowled. “Take cover!”

Hawk Swoop and Jackdaw’s Cry dived down the nearest tunnel, pushing Acorn Fur and Lightning Tail in front of them. Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots raced up the opposite slope and vanished onto the moor. Rainswept Flower thrust herself into a gap between two boulders.

Gray Wing guided Turtle Tail toward his own sleeping tunnel and followed her inside, turning so that he could look out into the camp. Turtle Tail cowered beside him, their flanks pressed together.

The barking grew louder still. Gray Wing’s eyes stretched wide with fear and shock as two dogs shot over the lip of the hollow and down toward their friends. One of them was a rangy creature with a brindled pelt, the other was small and white. Their paws churned up moss as they bounded to and fro, sniffing at the mouths of the tunnels.

Tall Shadow still stood on top of her rock, her back arched and her fur fluffed out so that she looked twice her size. She was snarling and she had raised one paw, her claws out ready to strike if one of the dogs came within range. The small white dog pawed at the bottom of the rock for a few heartbeats, yipping in a frenzy, but he couldn’t reach the black she-cat.

Meanwhile the bigger dog had found some discarded rabbit bones and was chewing them up; Gray Wing winced as he heard the bones cracking. The dog spat them out a moment later and began sniffing at the tunnel where Jackdaw’s Cry and Hawk Swoop were trying to protect Lightning Tail and Acorn Fur.

“Oh, no!” Turtle Tail whispered. “Those poor kits!”

Gray Wing could hardly breathe with the tension, but he gathered himself to leap out and attack from behind if the dog looked likely to force his way in.

The dog had begun to scrape at the loose earth around the tunnel mouth when another sound rose above the dogs’ barking: the roar of a monster on the distant Thunderpath. The dogs paused, their heads on one side, listening. Then they headed back up the slope, chasing each other as they retreated the way they had come. Their yelping died away, but it was still many heartbeats before Gray Wing dared to emerge, with Turtle Tail nervously following him.

Tall Shadow leaped down from her rock and Rainswept Flower emerged from between the stones where she had been hiding. Jackdaw’s Cry poked his head out of the tunnel. “Are they gone?” he asked.

It was Dappled Pelt who replied, reappearing at the top of the hollow with Cloud Spots. “Yes, they’re running toward the river,” she reported, padding down to join the others. “We’re safe now.”

Letting out a breath of relief, Gray Wing glanced around the camp. Then his muscles tensed again as he realized that one cat was missing. “Thunder!” he exclaimed. “Where’s Thunder?” He raised his voice to a yowl. “Thunder!”

His cry echoed around the camp, but no cat replied.

“Who saw him last?” Tall Shadow demanded.

“He was here earlier, when Turtle Tail arrived,” Rainswept Flower replied.

“Has anyone seen him since then?” Tall Shadow’s gaze swept around the cats, who were huddled together, scared and shaken. “No? Okay, let’s search the camp. Check all the tunnels.”

The cats scattered, vanishing into the dens and beneath the lowest boughs of the gorse bushes, only to return a few moments later. There was no sign of Thunder.

Dread enveloped Gray Wing like cold, clinging fog. “Thunder must have followed Shattered Ice when he went out to hunt,” he meowed, realizing that the two of them were on the moor, and vulnerable if the dogs spotted them.

Turtle Tail nudged him. “It’s worse than that,” she told him, her sharp eyes ranging across the hollow. “Jagged Peak has gone too.”