“This morning you’re going to work on your leaping skills,” Clear Sky announced, speaking for the first time since they had left the camp.
“Okay,” Thunder responded, determined to do his best. “What do you want me to do?”
Clear Sky waved his tail in the direction of the burnt forest. “I want to see you jumping from one tree to the next. It’s an important skill if you’re hunting squirrels or even birds, and it’s a good way to stay clear of your enemies. Out here, where the leaves are burned off the trees, you’ll be able to see where you’re going.”
Like that’s supposed to make it easier for me? Thunder thought, gazing up in dismay at the nearest fire-damaged tree. I’m not even sure it will bear my weight.
While he hesitated, Clear Sky padded over and faced him. “I can see the doubt in your eyes,” he hissed. “That’s exactly why you need to climb up the tree right now. The only way you can survive in the forest is without fear.” Clear Sky’s blue eyes glowed with passion. “Fear is like prey—it only exists to be captured and killed. Fear didn’t get me and the rest of us out of the mountains!”
Thunder stretched up to grip the burnt tree trunk with his claws; small chips of black wood flaked away at the touch. He hesitated, but didn’t want to turn around and see a disappointed or angry look in his father’s eyes.
Bracing himself, Thunder sprang and clambered up the tree, shedding scraps of wood every time he sank his claws into the trunk. At last he reached a branch and clung there, feeling it shake under him and hardly daring to look down at the ground so far below.
“Get moving!” Clear Sky called up to him. “You’re showing the tree too much respect.”
For a couple of heartbeats Thunder clung tighter as a gust of wind swayed the branch. It feels like I should respect the tree, was what he wanted to say. He knew that jumping wasn’t his strong point, and besides, he had no idea which branches would support his weight and which would give out and send him crashing down into the undergrowth. Respecting the tree makes perfect sense!
“Jump now!” Clear Sky yowled, impatience clear in his tone.
Taking a deep breath, Thunder managed to ignore the creaking of the branch and the stench of dead wood, and launched himself into a leap. He landed awkwardly in the next tree, his forepaws scrabbling at a branch while his hind legs dangled in midair. Clawing desperately, he hauled himself up until he could crouch in a fork between the branch and the tree trunk.
“Far too slow!” Clear Sky’s yowl came up from below. “You should have been two trees over by now!”
Stung by the sneering tone, Thunder peered down at his father, who stood at the foot of the tree, his tail lashing.
“What’s the point of this?” he demanded. “Didn’t Jagged Peak injure himself permanently when he fell from a tree?”
Clear Sky didn’t bother to answer. “Are you going to perch up there and ask silly questions?” he meowed. “Or are you going to continue to learn new skills? Don’t you want to learn the best way to hunt?” He pointed with his tail toward the next tree. “Let me see how strong you are!”
Growing even more irritated, Thunder decided to show his father just how good he was. Pushing off with his hind paws, he leaped from tree to tree, forcing down the fear that stirred in his belly.
This’ll show him… another tree… and another…
Crack!
As Thunder’s paws hit the next branch, it splintered away from the tree. Thunder felt himself falling, twisting in the air in a frantic effort to turn himself upright. A picture of Jagged Peak, dragging his injured leg across the moorland camp, flashed into his mind. Then he let out a screech of pain as he thumped down, paws first, onto the forest floor. Scraps of bark and chunks of black wood showered down around him.
Clear Sky was watching him with a disappointed look in his eyes. “You showed good courage there,” he mewed, dipping his head, “but recklessness can lead to injury.” Without another word he turned and headed back toward the camp.
Thunder limped after him, testing each leg gingerly to make sure he wasn’t badly hurt. Dull anger was throbbing in his belly. If I take it slowly, I’m respecting the tree too much. If I go fast, I’m being reckless. What do I have to do to please my father?
He halted, his anger and confusion becoming too much to bear. “Clear Sky!” he called.
His father stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “What now?” he asked irritably.
Thunder didn’t let his father’s tone intimidate him. “Why are you accusing me of recklessness, when I was only doing what you told me to do?” he demanded.
Clear Sky padded back toward him, sighing patiently. “Do you really not understand yet? I brought you back here because I wanted what’s best for you—and that’s to fit in and become a useful member of the group. I’m pushing you so you can become the very best you’re capable of.”
He turned and stalked on.
As they drew close to the camp, a hunting party emerged from the trees. Petal was in the lead, followed by Frost and Falling Feather. All of them were carrying prey.
“How did your training go?” Falling Feather asked around a mouthful of vole. “Are you getting the hang of hunting in trees?”
At least she sounds friendly, Thunder reflected.
“Yes, it was fine,” he replied, hoping that no cat would see his disappointment. I’ll show Clear Sky; I’ll show all the cats here! I’ll do more training, but on my own next time…
Dawn light was trickling through the trees when Thunder slipped out of the camp on the following morning. The grass was still wet with dew, soaking Thunder’s pelt as he brushed against it. Tendrils of mist tickled the trees, and pale cobwebs were stretched on every bush.
Thunder was determined that this morning he would hunt alone, and deserve his father’s praise when he came back loaded with prey. He crept through the forest, striving to make every paw step stealthy, so that he would pass as silently as a shadow among the trees.
But that wasn’t as easy as he had hoped. He had grown bigger since his foray into the forest with Shattered Ice. Every time he trod on a dead leaf, or a twig snapped under his paw, he halted, cringing, afraid that Clear Sky was following him and would hear.
He had paused beside an oak tree, sniffing carefully for prey, when he picked up the scent of cats and heard the sounds of bodies brushing through the undergrowth. At first Thunder thought it was his father at the head of a patrol, but then he realized that the scents were unfamiliar.
Peering around the bole of the oak tree, Thunder saw two cats emerge into the open. The first was a silvery-furred tom: River Ripple, who had helped them escape from the fire. With him was a black-and-white she-cat Thunder had never seen before.
Thunder’s paws tingled with uncertainty. He knew that Clear Sky didn’t like other cats hunting in the forest. But the place is big enough for all of us, he reflected. I don’t want to drive them off, especially when we owe so much to River Ripple.
Thunder turned away to head off in another direction. But after a couple of paw steps he had to halt again as a strange black tom appeared around the edge of a bramble thicket.
The black tom thrust his head forward and let out a threatening hiss. Spinning around, Thunder scampered away, only to realize that the black tom was hard on his paws.