“Where’s Sun Shadow?” He glanced around for the young tom.
“He’s sleeping,” Quiet Rain told him. “It’s the first time he’s had a full belly and a safe nest for quite some time.”
Gray Wing blinked anxiously at his mother. “Are you okay?” The tang of the herbs filled his nose.
“I’m here,” she murmured. “That’s all that matters.”
Emotion tightened Gray Wing’s throat. He thrust his muzzle against Quiet Rain’s cheek.
She relaxed at his touch, and his pelt rippled with pleasure as he breathed in the scent of her. For a moment he was a kit again, nuzzling beside her belly in the warmth of their mountain nest.
Suddenly, she pulled away. “I smell blood!” Fear lit her gaze as she saw Gray Wing’s injured paw. “What happened to you?”
“I got caught in a Twoleg trap.”
Her blue eyes clouded. “Why did you ever come to this place?” Her wail was thin, like the mewl of a kit. “There is nothing but death and danger here! You should have stayed in the mountains!”
Chapter 17
Thunder watched Gray Wing lean close to Quiet Rain, trying to comfort her with soft purrs as flakes of snow drifted through the thick pine canopy, settling on their pelts. She’d wailed like a kit, though Thunder couldn’t make out her words. Perhaps sleep and good forest prey would ease the old she-cat’s distress.
He dragged his gaze away and surveyed the camp. Should I leave now? Unease spiked in his pelt.
Mud Paws and Mouse Ear were staring suspiciously at Fern. Tall Shadow’s gaze flashed in the half-light. Jagged Peak’s pelt was rippling across his shoulders. He should stay until he knew she’d be welcome here.
Fern shifted beside him. “Maybe I should go.”
“Just keep your fur flat and look friendly,” he whispered.
“That’s easy for you to say,” she hissed back. “These cats know you.”
Tall Shadow was the first to approach. She padded across the clearing, chin high. “Who’s this?”
Fern dipped her head. “I’m Fern,” she meowed politely. “Gray Wing said I could come back to the camp with him.”
Tall Shadow’s ears twitched. “Did he?”
Fern glanced at the entrance. “I can leave if you like.”
“No.” Tall Shadow’s gaze moved slowly over the black she-cat. “If Gray Wing said you could come, he had a reason.”
Jagged Peak limped toward them. “Has Gray Wing been rounding up strays?”
“I’m a friend.” Fern’s eyes sparked indignantly.
Should I tell them about Slash? Thunder glanced at Gray Wing. No. Let Fern tell them if she wants. Or Gray Wing. It’s none of my business.
Holly padded from her den, exchanging looks with Mud Paws and Mouse Ear as she passed them.
Storm Pelt and Dew Nose raced behind her, Eagle Feather at their heels.
Fern silently met Holly’s curious gaze as the she-cat stopped in front of her. Thunder could feel her trembling.
“Her pelt’s all knotted!” Dew Nose scrambled to a halt.
“Is she another mountain cat?” Storm Pelt asked.
“What are those scars?” Eagle Feather paced around Fern, sniffing her pelt.
Holly flicked her tail angrily. “Be polite! This cat is a visitor, and your elder.” She dipped her head to Fern. “I’m sorry about my kits. They speak before they think.”
“They have spirit,” Fern meowed stiffly. “They will grow into fine hunters.”
Holly puffed her fur out proudly.
Jagged Peak narrowed his eyes. “You say you are a friend. Can you prove it?”
Holly glared at her mate. “This poor cat is half-starved! Let her prove her friendship once she’s rested and eaten.” She nodded toward the prey pile. “Mud Paws dug up a mouse nest today, so there’s enough for all of us. Come and choose one.” She beckoned to Fern with a flick of her tail.
“Yes,” Tall Shadow agreed. “Eat and rest, Fern. We can talk in the morning.”
Jagged Peak rolled his eyes. “Are we going to take in every stray that walks into camp?”
Thunder curled his claws into the snow. “Why not? Strays are no less loyal than mountain cats.”
He thought of Milkweed and Pink Eyes. They brought prey home whenever they could. Even Leaf, despite his temper, hunted for his campmates before himself.
Jagged Peak snorted and turned away as Holly led Fern to the prey pile.
Dew Nose, Eagle Feather, and Storm Pelt bounced after them.
“I can help groom the knots from your pelt, Fern,” Dew Nose squeaked.
“I’m great at catching fleas,” Storm Pelt boasted. “Do you want me to catch yours?”
Fern glanced at the kit. “I’m not sure I have fleas.”
“But if you do, I’ll be able to get them,” Storm Pelt assured her.
Holly stopped at the prey pile, swung a mouse from the top, and dropped it at Fern’s paws. “Take this and find a sheltered spot. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”
Fern gazed at her gratefully, then snatched up the mouse and carried it to the camp wall, where she settled onto the snow-flecked ground.
Dew Nose scampered after her.
“Let the poor cat eat in peace!” Holly called.
“I will! I promise.” Dew Nose flopped down beside Fern and stared at her as she ate.
Thunder glanced toward at the heap of fresh-kill. Snow dusted the top. He licked his lips and looked hopefully at Tall Shadow. “Can you spare some prey for me? I haven’t had a chance to hunt today.” I gave the one catch I made to Quiet Rain.
“Of course.” She blinked at him kindly. “I haven’t thanked you for bringing Gray Wing back to us.”
“That’s okay.” Thunder hurried across the clearing, his belly growling. “He wasn’t hard to find.”
At the prey pile he grabbed a mouse and, crouching, gulped it down in a few bites. As he swallowed, he watched Gray Wing sitting beside Quiet Rain. What must it be like to see his mother after so long? He wondered, with a pang, how he’d feel if Storm suddenly padded from between the trees.
“I want to see Clear Sky!” Quiet Rain’s querulous mew sounded across the clearing.
Gray Wing’s gaze swept around and stopped at Thunder. “Will you get your father?”
Thunder froze, the mouse suddenly sitting heavy in his belly. “Now?” Dusk had given way to night. Beyond the forest, the snow would be falling heavily.
“You only have to cross the Thunderpath,” Gray Wing pressed.
But I don’t want to see Clear Sky yet! Fur bristled along Thunder’s spine. He pushed himself to his paws and glared at Gray Wing. “Can I speak with you in private?”
Gray Wing straightened and padded toward Thunder. “What’s wrong?”
Thunder lowered his voice. “I told you I left Clear Sky’s camp,” he hissed. “That wasn’t easy to do. I’m not going back this quickly.”
“I’m not asking you to live with him again.” Gray Wing’s gaze hardened. “Just to get him.”
“Send some other cat!” Thunder glanced around the camp. Mud Paws and Mouse Ear were sharing tongues. Tall Shadow was sitting in the clearing, watching Fern as she ate beside Holly and the kits. Pebble Heart was sniffing at Quiet Rain’s wound, while Jagged Peak paced outside his den.
Gray Wing flattened his ears. “Quiet Rain is your kin—she is kin to all of us. Clear Sky is your father. You should be the one to tell him.”