The she-cat’s gray, speckled pelt was matted, her bones showing even sharper through her fur than the tom’s. She crouched, trembling as her coughing eased, and Thunder saw a blackened wound at the top of her hind leg.
He dropped the sparrow. “You’re injured.”
“It’s nothing,” she rasped.
“I know a cat who could give you herbs to help it heal,” Thunder offered. Should he get Cloud
Spots?
“It will heal by itself,” the she-cat muttered.
Thunder nosed the sparrow toward her. “Perhaps a little food will give you the strength to recover more quickly.” This she-cat was old, far older than her traveling companion. White specks of fur showed around her muzzle.
She blinked at him in disbelief. “You’d give me your prey?”
“It was your friend’s prey, really,” Thunder told her. “He spotted it first.”
The black tom blinked at him gratefully. “Eat it, Quiet Rain.” He pawed the sparrow closer to the she-cat.
“This is the first kindness we’ve met since our journey began,” Quiet Rain murmured.
Thunder dipped his head. “Prey has been scarce since the sickness.”
“What sickness?” Quiet Rain lifted her head sharply, anxiety showing in her blue gaze.
“It has passed now,” Thunder reassured her. “But it killed much of our prey before leaf-bare.”
Quiet Rain glanced at her companion. “Sun Shadow and I thought we were coming to a land of plenty,” she mewed bitterly.
“It will be, once newleaf has brought the woods and moor back to life,” Thunder promised.
Sun Shadow gazed at the sparrow hungrily. “How long will it be until ‘newleaf’?”
Thunder felt a jab of pity for the skinny tom. Then curiosity rippled through his pelt.
She called him Sun Shadow.
Didn’t Tall Shadow once have a brother called Moon Shadow? He’d died on the journey from the mountains. Could this be another littermate?
Quiet Rain ripped a mouthful of flesh from the sparrow. “What’s your name?” she asked, chewing noisily.
“Thunder,” he replied, wondering if she could read his thoughts.
Quiet Rain’s eyes narrowed as she exchanged a glance with Sun Shadow. She swallowed, a feather clinging to her whiskers as she turned back to Thunder. “Have you met a cat called Gray Wing?” she asked, her mew tight with pain. “Or Jagged Peak? Or Clear Sky?”
Sun Shadow leaned forward. “Have you met Moon Shadow? He’s my father.”
Thunder’s belly tightened. These cats were from the Tribe! What could he tell them? They had come so far to see their Tribemates. “I know Tall Shadow,” he told them cautiously.
Sun Shadow’s eyes shone. “She’s my father’s littermate!”
“And what of Gray Wing?” Quiet Rain’s eyes lit up. “Clear Sky? Jagged Peak?”
Thunder’s tail trembled. “How do you know them?”
“I am their mother.”
Thunder searched for words. How could he tell this old she-cat that her sons now lived more as rivals than as littermates? Memories of the great battle crowded his mind.
“Well?” Quiet Rain stared at him expectantly.
“Gray Wing and Jagged Peak live on the far side of this forest with Tall Shadow,” he told her, thinking he could lead them to the pines. He wasn’t eager to return to his father’s camp yet, so he did not mention Clear Sky. “I can take you to see them.”
Quiet Rain struggled to her paws, her eyes glistening. “Are they well?”
“Yes.”
“What about my father?” Sun Shadow leaned forward eagerly.
Thunder avoided the tom’s gaze. “Tall Shadow knows more than me,” he mumbled. “She can tell you everything when you reach her camp.”
“We must leave!” Quiet Rain stepped over the half-eaten sparrow, her paws trembling.
Sun Shadow glanced at her anxiously. “You should rest for a while first.”
Thunder nodded. “It’s a long trek,” he told her. “Finish your meal. We can go when you’ve got your strength back.”
Chapter 14
Thunder watched Quiet Rain return to her meal. Worry jabbed his chest. Each bite seemed to pain her. Her ears flattened as she chewed, and she winced with each swallow. Was she strong enough to make the journey? The pines were beyond the Thunderpath.
Doubt gnawed at him. Perhaps I should take them back to my camp? He nudged Sun Shadow aside. “I think Quiet Rain’s wounds need treating before we leave,” he hissed. Cloud Spots would know what to do.
“She won’t wait for that,” Sun Shadow whispered back. “Not now that she knows her sons are near.”
“But she’s so weak.”
“She made the journey from the mountains, didn’t she? It can’t be much farther to the pine forest.”
Quiet Rain jerked up her muzzle. “What are you two whispering about?”
Thunder met her gaze. “You should come back to my camp to rest, and let Cloud Spots help you.”
He hoped the mention of her old friend from the mountains might convince her, but Quiet Rain only paused for a moment, then returned to her meal.
“I don’t want to waste any more time,” she mewed, having clearly said all that she wanted to on the matter.
Thunder exchanged looks with Sun Shadow.
“Don’t bother arguing,” the black tom murmured. “Once Quiet Rain has made up her mind, it stays made up.”
Thunder gazed between the trees. He was a short run from the ravine. He should at least warn his campmates that he was heading for Tall Shadow’s territory. They’d worry if he was late returning to camp. He dipped his head to Sun Shadow. “I must tell the others that I’m leaving.”
Distrust sharpened the tom’s gaze.
“It’s okay,” Thunder reassured him. “I’ll come back.”
“Alone?” Sun Shadow narrowed his eyes.
“Alone,” he promised. The long journey had clearly left these cats wary. Who knew what cruelty they’d witnessed? “My campmates are busy hunting.” Thunder kept his mew reassuringly light. “I’ll be back soon.”
Leaving the mountain cats crouched at the foot of the beech, he bounded between the trees. His paws thrummed over the frozen earth as he headed for the ravine. Cutting between brambles and leaping fallen trees, he raced until his chest hurt, only slowing as the slope steepened toward the camp.
“Thunder?” Milkweed’s call surprised him before he reached the top.
He slowed to a halt, scanning the thick undergrowth until he caught sight of her ginger-and-black pelt. She stared at him from a patch of wood sorrel, its leaves closed against the cold. “Are you hunting?” Thunder asked.
Milkweed rolled her eyes. “No,” she mewed sarcastically. “I just felt like a stroll.”
Thunder’s whiskers twitched. Now that her kits had a safe den and she could hunt once more, Milkweed showed as much spirit as any cat. The hunger she’d suffered still showed in her thin frame, but her eyes were bright and her cough had cleared. “Have you caught anything yet?” he asked.
“I buried a mouse back near the brambles.” She nodded over her shoulder. “I’ll dig it up on the way back to camp. What about you?” Her nose twitched curiously and she stiffened. “You smell strange.”
Thunder whisked his tail. “I found two cats from the mountains,” he told her. “They’re looking for their kin.”
Milkweed tipped her head. “Their kin?”
“Gray Wing, Jagged Peak, and Tall Shadow.” He didn’t mention his father’s name. He didn’t want to explain why he was taking them all the way to the pines. “I promised to show them the way.”
“But why?” Milkweed blinked. “You have your own cats to look after now.”
“These cats are starving and one of them is sick,” he told her. “They need my help.”