Pebble Heart would be worried about him, though. Now that Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes had moved to Clear Sky’s camp, the young tom must feel alone. And I miss him. Gray Wing’s chest tightened as he remembered Pebble Heart’s soft, solemn gaze.
I should go home.
Slate crossed the clearing toward him. Her thick gray fur rippled as she walked.
Maybe tomorrow.
“Was that all there was?” Slate nodded toward the prey pile.
Gray Wing met her gaze apologetically. “We were lucky to find that. Snow’s coming, and most of the prey has taken to its nests.”
Slate sighed. “Just when we need it most.”
“I’ll go out again later,” Gray Wing offered.
“I’ll come with you.”
“We could try the tunnels.” Gray Wing hadn’t ventured underground yet. He’d never shared Acorn
Fur’s love of hunting in the dark. But they might unearth a rabbit’s nest.
Slate’s eyes glittered with unease. “I’ve never hunted underground.”
“We won’t go deep,” Gray Wing promised. His gaze snagged the scoop in her ear where the fox had ripped off the tip. A dark scab edged it.
Slate dropped her gaze. “How bad is it?”
“You look a bit like an owl,” Gray Wing teased.
Slate lifted her muzzle sharply. “At least I can still hear.” She stared pointedly at Gray Wing’s ears. “It’s a wonder you hear anything at all. You have so much fluff in your ears, I’m surprised mice don’t make nests in them.”
Gray Wing nudged her playfully and she began to purr.
“Wind Runner!” Dust Muzzle’s anxious mew sounded across the clearing. “I can hear paw steps.”
Reed tasted the air, his muzzle high. “A forest cat’s heading this way.”
Fur bristled along Gorse Fur’s spine. Wind Runner padded cautiously toward the camp entrance.
Minnow dropped into a defensive crouch. “Can you tell who it is?”
Gray Wing opened his mouth and let the breeze bathe his tongue. He recognized the scent at once.
“It’s Thunder.”
Wind Runner pricked her ears. “What’s he doing on the moor?”
Gorse Fur narrowed his eyes. “I thought I smelled his scent while we were out hunting.”
Minnow nodded. “Me too. Near the four trees. And I smelled more than one cat.”
Wind Runner blinked at the gray-and-white she-cat. “Rogues?”
Minnow shrugged. “They smelled strange.”
The heather shivered as paw steps headed along the tunnel. Thunder poked his head into the camp.
“May I come in?” He glanced at Wind Runner.
Wind Runner dipped her head. “You are welcome.”
Thunder slid out from the heather, his orange-and-white pelt bright against gray leaf-bare branches. “Gray Wing! You’re here!” His eyes lit up. “I’ve been tracking your scent.”
Gray Wing tipped his head. “Why?” Surely his own campmates should have been hunting for him, rather than Thunder.
“Tall Shadow sent me.”
Gray Wing shifted his paws, feeling suddenly guilty. “Is she okay?”
Worry sparked in Thunder’s gaze. A chill ran down Gray Wing’s spine. Slash! Had he attacked the camp? He’d assumed that Fern’s plan to distract the vicious rogue had worked.
“She’s fine.” Thunder’s tail twitched. “Everyone’s fine.”
“Then why did Tall Shadow send you?” Gray Wing frowned, puzzled.
“I found some strangers in the forest,” Thunder explained hesitantly. “They were looking for Tall Shadow, so I took them to her camp.”
Gray Wing leaned forward, curiosity pricking his pelt. Why did Thunder seem so wary?
“Strangers?”
“They want to see you.”
Slate shifted beside Gray Wing, her pelt bristling. “Who are these strangers?”
Wind Runner tipped her head. “Where are they from?”
Thunder stared at Gray Wing. “They’re from the mountains.”
“The mountains?” Gray Wing’s thoughts whirled. Had the Tribe followed the Sun Trail? He remembered his dream of the empty cave behind the waterfall. But they wanted to stay among the peaks. Had something terrible happened to drive them from their home?
Thunder lowered his voice. “It’s Quiet Rain.”
My mother! Gray Wing’s heart quickened. The journey from the mountains had been difficult for the young and healthy cat he used to be—Quiet Rain would surely have found it even more trying. “Is she okay?”
“She’s weak and hungry, and carries a wound, but Pebble Heart is taking care of her,” Thunder told him. “She came with a cat named Sun Shadow.”
“Moon Shadow’s son…” Anxiety fluttered in Gray Wing’s belly. What was she doing here? “I must go to her,” he meowed, heading for the heather tunnel.
“Wait!” Slate called. “Who’s Quiet Rain?”
Gray Wing glanced back at her. “She’s my mother!” Why hadn’t he been in the forest to greet her?
He shouldn’t be here on the moor. He had duties and responsibilities at home. As he shouldered his way through the heather tunnel and burst out onto the grass beyond, he felt his breathing shorten. His heart pounded in his ears.
“Wait for me!” Paws thrummed behind him as he raced across the moor.
Thunder caught up with him, panting. “Slow down!” he puffed. “She’s not going anywhere.”
“I should have been there.” Gray Wing struggled to speak, fighting for breath.
Thunder swerved across his path. “There’s no use getting there so out of breath that you can’t even speak to her.”
Gray Wing halted. “You’re right.” His chest wheezed as he spoke.
“Let’s walk.” Thunder fell in beside him.
Tiny flakes of snow spiraled from the sky as dusk fell. There would be snowfall by morning.
Padding slowly, Gray Wing let his fur smooth, relaxing until his breath began to ease. “Is Quiet Rain’s wound dangerous?”
“I don’t know,” Thunder answered. “Pebble Heart says it will take a while to heal.”
“Is Clear Sky with her now?” If Thunder had found Quiet Rain and Sun Shadow in the forest, he must have taken them back to Clear Sky’s camp first.
Thunder kept his gaze fixed ahead. “No.”
“He didn’t travel to Tall Shadow’s camp with her?”
“He doesn’t know she’s here.”
Gray Wing frowned, puzzled. “But you know?”
“I took them straight to Tall Shadow.”
Gray Wing could hear stiffness in Thunder’s voice. Something was wrong. “Why not take them to Clear Sky?”
“We argued,” Thunder mewed softly. “I left Clear Sky’s camp days ago. I’ve set up my own.”
Gray Wing’s heart sank. Would Clear Sky and Thunder ever reconcile? Before he could ask, Thunder changed the subject.
“Tall Shadow says that Sun Shadow looks exactly like his father.” He lowered his voice. “I told him Moon Shadow had died.”
Gray Wing glanced at him. “That must have been hard, for you and him.”
“He was looking forward to knowing his father.” Was that bitterness in Thunder’s mew? “They know about Bright Stream too, but Tall Shadow didn’t want to tell them anything more. Not until your mother is stronger.”
Gray Wing glanced across the moor toward the four trees hollow, where the graves of so many of their friends lay. What would Quiet Rain say when she found out? He slowed, suddenly realizing how much news there was to share with her and how little of it was good.
What will she say when she finds out how we’ve fought among ourselves? As worry wormed beneath his pelt, his forepaw scuffed a hard vine in the grass. Pain shot through his leg as the vine tightened around it. Instinctively he tried to tug himself free, but the vine gripped harder, digging into his flesh.