Gray Wing plunged down and landed on top of the nearest kittypet, a huge, fluffy black-and-white tom. Clear Sky and Tall Shadow hurled themselves at the other, a ginger she-cat.
The black-and-white kittypet flipped over, slamming Gray Wing onto the ground, and slashing at his ears. Infuriated by the stinging pain, Gray Wing reared up and snapped at the kittypet’s throat, closing his teeth instead on a mouthful of fur. Choking, he felt forepaws battering at his shoulders. This kittypet isn’t as soft as he looks!
Spitting out the fur, Gray Wing brought up his hind paws and struck out at the kittypet’s belly, glad of his sharp claws and the wiry strength of his muscles.
The kittypet squirmed away, lashing out at him with clumsy blows that hardly connected. Gray Wing struggled to his paws as Moon Shadow barreled past him, butting the kittypet in the side with his head. Faced with two enemies, the black-and-white kittypet turned tail and ran. Panting, Gray Wing glanced around to see Clear Sky and Tall Shadow chasing off the ginger she-cat.
Both kittypets swarmed up a thin wall of wood on the far side of the grass. It wobbled under their weight, but they kept their balance as they turned and hissed.
“Rogues aren’t welcome here!” the ginger she-cat warned. “If you’re not gone by tonight, you’ll be in big trouble.”
With a final snarl, both kittypets disappeared down the other side of the fence.
“Good riddance!” Moon Shadow yowled after them.
“What were you doing,” Tall Shadow mewed, “going off on your own like that? Are you flea-brained?”
“‘Rogues’?” Clear Sky interrupted. “What did those kittypets mean—‘rogues’? Is that their name for cats who don’t live with Twolegs?”
Gray Wing was just as confused, though glad that they could understand what the kittypets were saying. His muscles ached from the fight, and the ear the big tom had slashed was dripping blood. Are we going to have to fight cats all the way to our new home? he wondered. It was a daunting thought. In the mountains there were no cats to fight. It was just us.
He and his friends clambered back over the wall. The other cats were huddled together in the mouth of the den.
“Who knew kittypets would fight?” Jackdaw’s Cry mewed. “In the elders’ tales, they’re all scaredy-sparrows!”
“Maybe you should have talked to them,” Rainswept Flower suggested. “You could have explained that we’re just passing through.”
Clear Sky rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah? While they were clawing our throats out? They weren’t in the mood for conversation!”
Shaded Moss listened to the exchange, his paws shifting uneasily. “We have to get out of this place as soon as we can,” he announced. “We can’t afford more fighting.”
He set off at once and the others followed, the younger cats stumbling with tiredness. Gray Wing brought up the rear with Turtle Tail, both of them tense and watchful.
Shaded Moss led the way along narrow stone paths between the Twoleg dens, crossed quiet Thunderpaths and raced through enclosed stretches of grass. Gray Wing realized that Shaded Moss was determined to travel in a straight line, toward the peaks they had seen.
While they were crossing one stretch of grass beside a Twoleg den, the air was split by an outburst of shrill barking. Every cat froze in horror. Then, as he looked around, Gray Wing spotted the dog: a little white creature trapped behind a clear shiny sheet that blocked the entrance to the den.
“Look at that!” Moon Shadow meowed, taking a pace toward it. “Hey, flea-pelt! Wouldn’t you like to get at us?”
“Flea-brain!” Cloud Spots shoved Moon Shadow roughly after the others, who were already moving on. “What if the Twoleg lets it out?”
As he followed his denmates, Gray Wing kept a lookout for kittypets. He didn’t see any, but their scents were everywhere.
It was a relief to reach the edge of the Twolegs’ dens and gaze out again across open landscape. The rugged peaks were in plain view now.
“They’re not as big as the mountains,” Quick Water mewed, sounding disappointed.
“Stoneteller wouldn’t have sent us to live somewhere just the same, would she?” Dappled Pelt observed. “Our new home will be completely different.”
“I miss the mountains,” Falling Feather whispered.
Gray Wing rubbed his paws over the hard black stone at the edge of the Thunderpath. He sympathized with the young white she-cat. Picturing the cats they had left behind, he wondered how they were. If only there were a way to let them know that we’re safe!
“Come on!” Jagged Peak suddenly began marching ahead. “We’re not going to get anywhere if we stand around all day.”
Gray Wing suppressed a small mrrow of amusement at the young cat’s confidence as he and the others followed. Clouds covered the sky, so there was no sun to guide them, but the outline of the peaks was clear enough.
After the noise and reek of the Twolegplace, it was soothing to be back in the open, surrounded by soft grass and animal scents and sounds. Soon they reached another line of bushes; Moon Shadow swerved off and plunged into the branches. He emerged a moment later with a small brown bird in his jaws.
Dropping the bird on the ground, Moon Shadow took a mouthful then pushed the remains toward Shaded Moss.
Shaded Moss raised a paw to stop him. “Thanks, but let’s all hunt for ourselves,” he meowed. “There’s enough prey here.”
A shiver of excitement ran through the cats as they split up. Gray Wing headed into the open grass, searching for signs of movement. He spotted Clear Sky leaping into the air after a bird, and Jagged Peak with his nose down on a scent trail.
Tasting the air for prey, Gray Wing scrambled backward as a huge black-and-white animal loomed over him. His heart pounded as he gazed up at it and saw that more were following it, lumbering through a gap in the line of bushes.
They’re even bigger than sheep! he thought, casting his mind back to the elders’ stories. Maybe they’re cows? One of them let out a deep-throated moooo, and Gray Wing remembered how Misty Water loved to imitate that noise, scaring the kits who were listening to her tales.
He crouched in the long grass, too scared to move in case the cows saw him and gave chase. But the vast creatures bumbled past him without taking any notice, so he crept forward, skirting them at a safe distance.
Beyond the cows, Gray Wing spotted a rabbit startled out of hiding, and set off after it. He relished the feeling of wind in his fur, though the long grass tangled his paws and slowed him down.
The rabbit reached the bushes and darted into a hole among the roots. Haredung! Gray Wing thought, staring in frustration at the narrow opening.
“Hey!”
Gray Wing turned to see Turtle Tail with a small bird under her paws. “I got one!” she announced. “Do you want to share?”
Gray Wing left the burrow, still wondering whether he would be able to hunt underground. The rest of the cats were gathering in the shelter of the bushes. They had caught plenty of prey, so those like Gray Wing who had been unlucky wouldn’t go hungry.
“I got two crows!” Clear Sky boasted, flicking his tail toward two heaps of untidy black feathers.
Before they began to eat, Shaded Moss stood gazing back toward the mountains they had left, now no more than a blur on the horizon. “Thank you, Stoneteller,” he meowed, “for sending us to this place.”
When every cat was stuffed full, there was still prey left over.