“Why are you fidgeting?” Gray Wing asked irritably.
“I think we’re being watched,” Jagged Peak replied.
Gray Wing suppressed a sharp response. “It’s probably a piece of prey that doesn’t want to be caught,” he suggested.
Jagged Peak flicked his tail, but said nothing. A few paw steps later he stopped dead. “What was that?” he asked, his ears quivering.
“A falling twig!” Gray Wing answered, flicking his tail in exasperation. “Now come on! We’re lagging behind the others.”
Jagged Peak stayed as still as if his paws were rooted to the ground. His eyes narrowed and his face screwed up in a mutinous expression. “We’re being followed,” he meowed.
“No, we’re not!” Gray Wing looked around, determined to prove that his brother was wrong. “Oh…” he added, feeling stupid, as a long-legged brown-and-gray tabby stepped out of the clump of bracken they had just passed.
“See?” Jagged Peak snapped.
Gray Wing and the stranger stared at each other for a moment.
“You’re not from these parts, are you?” the stranger asked eventually.
“No,” Jagged Peak piped up, stepping forward to examine the stranger, round-eyed. “We come from far away! From the mountains!”
The stranger looked surprised. “You mean Highstones?” He nodded in the direction of the sharp peaks the cats were heading for, though they weren’t visible through the trees.
“No,” Gray Wing replied. “We—”
He broke off as the other cats reappeared, with Clear Sky in the lead. “What’s going on?” Clear Sky asked.
“Wow, there are a lot of you,” the stranger mewed, though he didn’t seem daunted by their numbers.
“We’re just travelers, passing through,” Shaded Moss told him.
“Oh,” the stranger responded, “I thought you were the cats who live on the other side of Highstones.”
“That’s those pointed stones up ahead,” Gray Wing explained.
“Are there cats who live there already?” Cloud Spots asked, shouldering his way forward.
“That’s what I’ve heard,” the stranger replied, “though I’ve never been that far myself. I’ve heard tales about how fierce they are.”
“Are they… ‘rogues’?” Gray Wing asked, remembering what the kittypet in the Twolegplace had said.
The stranger gave a snort of amusement. “‘Rogues’ are what kittypets call us, the soft saps.” His gaze traveled curiously over the group of cats, and he added, “What are you all doing here? That kit there said you’ve come a long way.”
“We needed a new home,” Shaded Moss said shortly, casting a distrustful gaze at the stranger.
The tabby tom dipped his head and didn’t ask more questions. “Well, best of luck to you,” he meowed, and slid away into the bracken.
“So there’s another group of cats living near those pointed stones!” Jackdaw’s Cry mewed excitedly.
“Highstones,” Jagged Peak corrected.
Falling Feather sniffed. “They’re not that high.”
“I think it’s a good sign if there are other cats living near here.” Rainswept Flower blinked thoughtfully. “Cats like us, I mean. Not kittypets.”
“Yes, it means there’s space and prey,” Dappled Pelt agreed. “We won’t be disturbed by Twolegs, or monsters or dogs.”
“Maybe.” Clear Sky looked less certain. “But we want to find a place of our own, where there’s all the prey we need.”
Shaded Moss nodded. “Suppose the other cats are hostile?”
“The cat we just met didn’t seem hostile,” Turtle Tail pointed out.
Clear Sky snorted. “He was heavily outnumbered!”
Turtle Tail only shrugged.
In spite of Shaded Moss’s and Clear Sky’s suspicions, the cats’ mood was lighter as they padded on through the woods. Though the rain persisted, the branches held off the worst of it.
Gray Wing spotted movement at the corner of his eye and turned to see a squirrel halfway up the trunk of a nearby tree. Clear Sky was closer to it, and pushed off into a spectacular leap, crashing down again with the squirrel in his claws.
“That was awesome!” Jackdaw’s Cry exclaimed.
Since they had stopped, Shaded Moss suggested that they take some time to rest and hunt. Moon Shadow and Shattered Ice vanished immediately into the trees.
“Don’t go too far!” Shaded Moss called after them. “Stay out of trouble!”
Gray Wing opened his jaws to taste the air, and picked up the scent of mouse. He tried to follow it, finding it hard when there were so many cross trails of competing scents, and finally lost it altogether in a clump of ferns.
How can I catch prey I can’t see?
Meanwhile, Dappled Pelt had padded on a few paw steps, with her head tilted to listen. Then she meowed, “Look what I’ve found!”
Gray Wing trotted up to her and saw water gurgling from between two mossy stones, then falling in a tiny waterfall into a pool. A shallow stream led away from it into the trees.
Dappled Pelt crouched at the water’s edge, swiping her tongue around her jaws. “Fish!”
Falling Feather watched as Dappled Pelt flashed one paw into the stream and flicked a tiny fish onto the bank. A few heartbeats later she did it again, catching a bigger fish this time.
Falling Feather let out an admiring purr. “You said you’d teach me how to do it. Can I try now?”
“Sure,” Dappled Pelt replied. “Come and sit here. Make sure your shadow doesn’t fall on the water, because that frightens the fish. Then, when you see one, you have to be quick.”
“Okay, let me try.” Falling Feather gazed intently into the water, but when she dipped her paw all she brought up was flying droplets. “Haredung!” she muttered. “It looks so easy when you do it!”
Rainswept Flower had also ambled up to watch. “Okay,” she mused after a moment. “So I was wrong about the wooden den, but do you think this might be a place where we could live?”
Still annoyed about losing the mouse, Gray Wing hoped that she was wrong again. Among the trees, he felt trapped—as if the air was too thick to breathe properly. He longed for the open spaces they had left behind.
“No,” Shaded Moss replied to his daughter. “We must climb to the top of Highstones. Those peaks are the end of the sun trail Stoneteller promised us. We have to go there before we make any decisions about where to stay.”
Rainswept Flower nodded, accepting what her father said, while Gray Wing heaved a huge sigh of relief.
Moon Shadow and Shattered Ice returned with prey. After he had eaten his fill, Gray Wing lay on a rock and watched Dappled Pelt giving Falling Feather another fishing lesson. The two she-cats were obviously having fun. Even when Falling Feather leaned over too far and toppled into the stream with a massive splash, she came up quivering with amusement.
“It’s easier to be a fish than to catch one,” she spluttered as she emerged and gave her pelt a shake, scattering shining droplets into the air.
“Watch it!” Quick Water snapped, leaping out of the way. “Some of us don’t want to be fish, thanks very much!”
As he gazed at the she-cats, Gray Wing began to feel the earth trembling under his paws. At the same moment the air filled with the sound of barking.
“Dogs!” he yowled.
Shaded Moss jumped to his paws. “This way!” he ordered.
Three dogs crashed through the undergrowth. They were different sizes and colors. Frozen, Gray Wing could smell their stinking breath, and feel the heat from their fur.
“Come on!” Turtle Tail barreled into him, jolting him forward. “Move!”
Terrified, the cats floundered through the undergrowth. Bursting out of the trees, they raced across an open stretch of grass. Gray Wing glanced over his shoulder and saw the dogs following, covering the ground with long, loping strides.