Thunder leaped back, fur on end. “What’s wrong?”
“Something’s caught me!” Panic flashed through Gray Wing, spiraling as he tried to pull his paw free. Pain scorched up his leg as the vine snared it harder.
“Hold still!” Thunder darted forward, examining his paw. “It looks like a vine from a Twoleg fence.”
Gray Wing could smell blood and looked down to see the fur darken around his paw.
Thunder sniffed along the thin tendril. “It’s tied to a stick.”
Gray Wing fought against the blinding pain as Thunder gripped the stick between his jaws and tried to haul it from the ground.
He groaned with effort, then fell away, growling. “It’s stuck fast. I can’t move it.”
Gray Wing saw him glance warily across the moor. He guessed what Thunder was thinking.
“Foxes will smell my blood.” And come looking for an easy meal. Fear hollowed his belly. I’m trapped like prey!
“Stay calm.” Thunder paced around him. “We’ll find a way to get you out.”
“How?” Gray Wing tugged his paw again, gasping as the vine cut deeper.
“I know.” A mew sounded from the heather behind them.
Gray Wing jerked his muzzle around and saw Fern padding across the grass toward them.
Thunder showed his teeth. “Who are you?”
Fern paused and tipped her head. “Gray Wing knows me.”
“She’s Fern,” Gray Wing rasped.
Fern circled them, leaving a wide berth between her and Thunder.
Thunder’s gaze was suspicious, his orange pelt bristling. “You know how to free Gray Wing?” he growled. “How? Did you set this trap?”
Fern purred with amusement. “Don’t be dumb! It’s a Twoleg trap for rabbits. If I knew how to set it, I’d never go hungry again.” She rolled her eyes at Gray Wing. “I can’t believe you were mouse-brained enough to walk into it.”
Gray Wing gritted his teeth. “Just get me out!”
“You have to stop struggling,” Fern told him. She gave a warning look to Thunder, then ducked down beside Gray Wing’s paw. “Hold still.”
Gray Wing forced himself to keep still, breathing fast against the pain.
“This might hurt a little,” Fern warned. “I have to get my teeth around the vine to loosen it.”
Gray Wing nodded and braced himself.
He shuddered as he felt her small teeth slide between the vine and the wound in his leg. She wriggled her head, and he gasped as pain flared through him like lightning. Suddenly, the vine loosened. Fern jerked her head away and Gray Wing slid his paw easily from the trap.
Relief swamped him as the worst of the pain receded. But the wound stung like fury, and he felt blood seeping into his fur. He put weight on his paw, relieved to find it solid beneath him. “Nothing broken.” It was only a flesh wound. It would heal.
Thunder stared at the scarred she-cat. “Who are you?”
Fern caught Gray Wing’s eye.
“She’s just a rogue.” He shrugged.
Fern’s eyes flashed. “‘Just a rogue’?” she snorted. “I’m the rogue who lied to a murdering tom just to save your friends.”
Gray Wing’s ears pricked. “You spoke to Slash?” he asked eagerly.
“I promised I would, didn’t I?” Fern lifted her chin. “I told him about the prey and he went to look for it, just like I said he would. He’s such a greedy fox!”
Thunder’s eyes were wide. “Who’s Slash?”
“He’s another rogue,” Gray Wing told him. “He sent Fern to spy on us.”
Thunder narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re a spy?”
“Leave her alone,” Gray Wing told him sharply. “Slash is as cruel as One Eye. It took a lot of courage to lie to him.”
Fern puffed out her chest. She looked like a scrawny pigeon. Gray Wing realized that she was skinnier than ever.
“Have you been hunting in the hollow?” he asked.
“Yes.” She shrugged wearily. “But there wasn’t much prey.”
“Come back to my camp,” Gray Wing meowed. “When Slash finds out you sent him looking for prey that isn’t there, he won’t be pleased. You’ll be safer with us, and you can share our prey.”
Thunder eyed him. “Tall Shadow might have something to say about that.”
“Not when I explain what Fern has done for us.” Gray Wing began to pad toward the pines. They loomed against the darkening sky, and snow was falling thicker. Pain shot through him with each paw step, but he ignored it.
His mother was waiting for him.
Fern trotted after him. “Can I really come with you?” She sounded like a nervous kit.
“Yes.”
Thunder fell in beside her. “Why did Slash want you to spy on Gray Wing’s camp?”
Fern shrugged. “He doesn’t like to share his land with other cats.”
“This isn’t his land,” Thunder growled. “If it was, we’d have seen him before. Where does he come from?”
“We used to live as strays in the Twolegplace. But Slash got bored of eating Twoleg waste and decided there would be richer pickings out here.” Fern gazed across the fast-whitening moor. “Slash doesn’t like to admit when he’s wrong.”
“Why do you stay with him?” Thunder’s gaze flicked over her knotted fur and scars.
Fern stared ahead. “I have no one else.”
“Not even kin? Surely—”
Gray Wing cut in. “Leave her alone, Thunder.”
Thunder shrugged. “Okay.” He nodded toward Gray Wing’s paw. “How does it feel?”
“It hurts,” Gray Wing told him. Pain throbbed where the vine had sliced through his flesh. “But Pebble Heart will know which herbs will soothe it.”
They headed down the slope toward the Thunderpath. Monster tracks sliced through the slush covering the smooth black stone. Gray Wing pricked his ears, listening for monster growls. He heard nothing through the muffling snow, and there was no sign of eyes flashing in the distance.
“Come on.” He limped across the Thunderpath, relieved to smell pinesap as he reached the other side.
Fern’s black pelt was dotted with flakes. Snow speckled Thunder’s whiskers. A fresh flurry whirled around them, and Gray Wing ducked between the straight, dark trunks into the shelter of the forest.
Thunder led the way to the bramble camp. Fern stayed close to Gray Wing, pressing closer as they neared.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she whispered as the ring of brambles loomed ahead of them.
Familiar scents filled the air. “You’ll be fine,” Gray Wing promised her. Skirting the camp wall, he followed Thunder through the entrance. He scanned the wide clearing. “Quiet Rain?” His heart swelled with excitement.
Mud Paws looked up from the prey pile, where Mouse Ear was sifting through the day’s catch.
Tall Shadow and Jagged Peak sat in the shelter of the camp wall, their heads close as they shared words.
Tall Shadow spotted Gray Wing. “You’re back!” Relief flooded her mew.
“I’m sorry I stayed away so long.”
As Gray Wing dipped his head, Dew Nose’s voice sounded from the large den at the far end of the clearing. “Holly, can we play in the snow?”
“Tomorrow,” Holly’s voice answered. “It’s time to sleep now.”
Gray Wing blinked, impressed at the den she’d built while he’d been away.
Another den jutted from the side of the camp wall. Gray Wing opened his mouth and tasted the sharp tang of herbs billowing from it.
“Gray Wing?” An old mew rasped from beside it. Lying on the ground, her speckled gray pelt camouflaged against the snow-flecked needles, was Quiet Rain.
Gray Wing hurried toward her, wincing at the pain. Joy flared in his chest. He’d thought he’d never see her again—but here she was, in his new home! She struggled to get to her paws as he neared, but slumped back weakly. She was so thin now. Thick green pulp was smeared on the top of her hind leg. Her eyes shone as they met his, but he could see exhaustion in their blue depths.