We need to be prepared for anything.”
Wind Runner glanced toward the camp entrance. “I’ll post guards day and night.”
“I’ll take first watch.” Slate blinked at her eagerly.
Wind Runner shook her head. “You’ve been up all night waiting.” Her gaze moved to Gray Wing.
“You both need to rest. Spotted Fur can stand guard.” She flicked her tail toward Gray Wing’s nest.
“Go and get some sleep.”
Grateful, Gray Wing heaved himself to his paws. Slate pressed against him as he padded to their nest. The heather felt fresh as he climbed inside. “Did you line it while I was gone?” he asked.
“I knew you’d be tired when you got home, and I wanted you to have somewhere comfortable to rest.”
Gray Wing purred as he curled up in the soft heather. Slate climbed in after him and snuggled down beside him.
Exhausted, Gray Wing closed his eyes, relieved to feel Slate’s warmth against him. For a moment he pitied Slash. No cat that cruel could have felt love like this. Then his pity gave way to anger. Why did Slash want to make others suffer? His mind began to drift as tiredness pulled him toward sleep.
Images of the moor, bright with heather, flashed in his mind. His thoughts jumbled; the pink heather turned red with blood as Gray Wing slipped into troubled dreams.
Chapter 9
Clear Sky scuffed at the leaves that had drifted into the crook of an oak root. He sniffed their moldy scent, and his heart sank. Not even a trace of fresh prey. He glanced at Sparrow Fur, who was wriggling her way beneath a bramble. “Any sign of prey over there?” he called. Sparrow Fur backed out, whipping her tail free as it snagged on a thorn. She sat up and stared at Clear Sky. “All I can smell are rotting leaves.”
Clear Sky frowned. “Me too.” He glanced over to where they’d hidden the scrawny rabbit they’d caught earlier. It was hardly enough to feed one cat, let alone the whole group.
Sparrow Fur shook out her pelt. “We should have brought Blossom and Acorn Fur.”
“I want the camp well guarded,” Clear Sky reminded her. “Besides, more hunters leave more scent. They might have frightened the prey away.”
Sparrow Fur snorted. “What prey?”
Clear Sky didn’t answer. She was right. They had been out since dawn, and now the sun was shining high above the trees, against a cloudless sky. He wondered if Star Flower had let the kits leave the den. They had been begging to explore the camp, but they were still so small. And he wanted to be there when they took their first steps beyond the nest. He had almost sent Thorn hunting with Sparrow Fur and stayed behind. It had been hard enough leaving Star Flower and the kits the night before for the meeting at the four trees hollow. He longed to be with them now. But he was the group’s leader. He couldn’t stay in his den and let his campmates do every patrol.
“Clear Sky! Look!” Sparrow Fur hissed under her breath.
He jerked his muzzle toward her. The tortoiseshell she-cat was staring at a patch of dry ferns a tree-length away. He followed her gaze. A fat squirrel was sifting through the leaves with its forepaws. After scrabbling deep, it dragged up a nut and began to inspect it.
Clear Sky’s heart leaped. He dropped into a hunting crouch. Leaves rustled softly as Sparrow Fur tiptoed to his side.
“You head to that side of the beech,” he told her, jerking his muzzle to show her the way. “I’ll take the other. We mustn’t let it escape.”
Sparrow Fur nodded and began to slowly creep forward, her belly fur skimming the ground.
Clear Sky’s pelt prickled with excitement. The warm scent of squirrel filled his nose. His belly growled with hunger as he slunk forward. Tail down and spine low, he moved as silently as a snake, placing his paws on the dampest leaves so no crunch would betray his approach.
He felt for the breeze with his ear tips, relieved when he found he was upwind of his quarry.
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sparrow Fur’s tail as she disappeared around the other side of the beech. He skirted the roots, veering wide. Whichever way the squirrel ran, they’d catch it.
A twig cracked. Clear Sky tensed. Sparrow Fur must have crushed it beneath her paw. The squirrel straightened, snapping its head one way, then the other. Panic flashed in its eyes, and it darted forward.
As Sparrow Fur pelted after it, excitement surged beneath Clear Sky’s pelt. He leaped, kicking out leaves behind him. The ground blurred beneath him as he hared after the squirrel. It was racing for the base of an oak. It bobbed over the jutting roots and shot upward.
Clear Sky jumped, throwing his forepaws up. He unsheathed his claws and hooked them into the squirrel’s pelt, plucked it from the bark before it could escape his reach, and dragged it to the ground.
Ducking quickly, he gave it a killing bite. Its spine crunched between his jaws. The sweet warmth of blood bathed his tongue as the squirrel fell limp.
Thank you. He was grateful to the forest. He would have enough prey for Star Flower and more to share with the others.
“Great catch.” Sparrow Fur was panting. She stared at the squirrel, her eyes shining.
“Let’s collect the rabbit and take our catch back to camp,” Clear Sky decided.
“Okay.” Sparrow Fur licked her lips, still gazing at the squirrel.
“Do you want to carry it?” Clear Sky pawed it toward her. She’d been hunting all morning. She deserved a taste of blood on her tongue before they reached camp.
Sparrow Fur purred, hooking the squirrel between her jaws. Lifting her head, she trotted away, the squirrel’s bushy tail trailing behind her.
Clear Sky followed. The group could share the squirrel, and Star Flower could have the rabbit to herself. It was small, but it would be enough. She needed prey to stay strong. Their kits were growing fast on her milk. I’ll take care of you all. Joy warmed his pelt, taking him by surprise. He’d never felt so protective of anyone before. Then he remembered the grief that had flashed momentarily in Thunder’s gaze when he’d come to see the kits. Clear Sky shifted his paws guiltily. He’d never felt this way about his firstborn son. He realized now that Thunder had once been as helpless as Tiny
Branch, and he’d had no father to protect him. His mother, Storm, had cared for him alone, hunting for her own prey. A chill swept Clear Sky’s pelt. How could I have been so cruel?
He felt Sparrow Fur’s gaze on him. She’d stopped and was staring at him, the squirrel hanging from her jaws.
There wasn’t time to dwell on the past now. Star Flower hadn’t eaten since yesterday. And he wanted to organize another hunting patrol. If one squirrel had decided to come down from the trees, there might be more. He hurried after her.
Sparrow Fur led the way to the leaves where they’d buried the rabbit. He slid past her as they reached it and began to sift through them, feeling for the soft body beneath. He touched bare earth.
Where is it? He sat back on his haunches, worry sparking in his belly. “It’s gone.”
“It can’t be.” The squirrel thumped the earth as Sparrow Fur dropped it. She plunged her paws into the leaves and scrabbled beneath them.
“Could a fox have stolen it?” Clear Sky tasted the air. He lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Sparrow Fur, watch out.”
Sparrow Fur stopped searching for the rabbit and shot him an alarmed look. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes glittered with worry as she read his warning gaze. She opened her mouth to taste the air.
A drawling mew rang from between the trees. “Are you looking for something?” Slash strolled out from behind an elm, his eyes shining with amusement.