I drove her to it, he realized. All this time, she’s cared for me as more than a friend, and what did I do? I ignored her. But not any longer, he resolved.
Turtle Tail’s escape from the Twoleg den, and the comfort she’d given him over the moon they’d been denmates, had made Gray Wing see her with new eyes. Turtle Tail had always been beside him.
We care for each other. No, it was more than caring. Gray Wing knew that he loved this cat.
“Hey!” A paw prodded him in the side. “Go and catch me some prey, flea-pelt.”
Turtle Tail was awake, her green eyes alight with mischief. Gray Wing let out a snort of laughter.
“Who are you calling flea-pelt? Okay, okay, I’m going.”
Gray Wing rose to his paws, gave his fur a shake and padded to the mouth of the den. The dawn chill enveloped him as he stepped into fresh air. The pale sky was streaked with clouds, only the faintest rosy flush showing where the sun would rise.
Heading out of the hollow, Gray Wing felt more alive than ever before. His injured paws had healed and even his breathing seemed to feel better, despite his recent collapse. Leaving the mountains was the best decision I ever made.
Gray Wing knew that if he hadn’t made that choice, he would never have become the father to Sparrow Fur, Pebble Heart, and Owl Eyes, kits he now loved as his own. And if the next cold season was as easy as the last, the kits would grow up strong and healthy. He wouldn’t have felt the same confidence in the mountains, where the cold could kill.
As Gray Wing reached the top of the hollow and struck out across the moor, he heard paw steps following him, and a high-pitched squeak of excitement. He stopped and turned, knowing exactly what he would see.
The three kits scampered up to him.
“We want to hunt with you,” Owl Eyes announced, his whiskers quivering. “For real this time. No more pretend foxes!”
Gray Wing shook his head. “Sorry. You’re too young.”
“Please!” Sparrow Fur fixed him with beseeching green eyes. “No kit is too young to learn good hunting skills.”
Gray Wing fixed her with a stern look. Where did she pick that up, I wonder? “If you think you can get around me… ,” he began.
“We’ll be good!” Pebble Heart mewed, jumping up and down.
Gray Wing found he couldn’t resist their pleading. “Okay,” he agreed. “But stay close together, and close to me, and do exactly what I tell you. Understood?”
All three kits nodded vigorously.
“Come on, then.”
Gray Wing led the way onto the moor, his ears and nose alert for the signs of prey. The kits followed him, behaving themselves for once, their excitement showing only in the twitching of their whiskers and their wide, shining eyes.
Soon Gray Wing picked up the scent of a hare, and located it in the long grass at the edge of a stream. At first he could only see the black tips of its ears, but gradually he distinguished the outline of its body among the grass stems. It seemed to be a young one, not yet fully grown.
“Be very quiet,” he murmured to the kits, pointing with his tail. “Look over there.”
The kits stared in the direction his tail was indicating. Then Pebble Heart turned to him, blinking a little in distress. “It’s only a kit!” he mewed.
“Yes, won’t its mother and father be upset when it doesn’t come home?” Sparrow Fur added.
Owl Eyes was looking upset, too.
For a moment Gray Wing didn’t know how to answer. Then he sat down and gathered the kits closer with a sweep of his tail. “I understand how you feel,” he meowed. Clearly they weren’t as ready for hunting as they thought they were. “But we can’t take our hearts hunting, not if we want to survive. We have to be tough. I’ve seen a cat die of hunger…” His voice quivered a little as he remembered his sister Fluttering Bird. “I don’t want to see it happen ever again. Do you understand?”
The kits exchanged uncertain glances. “I… I guess so,” Owl Eyes replied at last.
“Then I’m going to show you how to hunt this hare,” Gray Wing went on more briskly. “And I want you to remember that hares can be dangerous. Their back legs are very powerful. One kick could break a cat’s spine. Now watch.”
Gray Wing checked the hare again; it was sitting with its back to them, and so far it hadn’t noticed them. “The breeze is blowing toward us,” he murmured. “Do you know why that’s good?”
All three kits thought for a moment.
“Because we can scent the hare,” Sparrow Fur responded brightly. “But it can’t scent us.”
“Right.” As the little kit puffed out her chest proudly, Gray Wing added, “Now stay here and don’t move.”
Gray Wing began stalking cautiously toward the hare. There was no cover between him and the clump of grass where the hare was hiding, and he didn’t want to alert it by a sudden movement.
He had covered about half the distance before the hare suddenly sat erect. Knowing it had sensed him, Gray Wing hurtled toward it, calling on every scrap of speed he could manage. He leaped upon the hare as it bounded out of cover, swerving to avoid its back legs, and to break its neck with one skillful twist of his jaws. The hare fell to the ground and lay still.
Gray Wing turned to beckon the kits with his tail. As they padded toward him, sudden spots began to dance before his eyes and his vision was obscured by glittering darkness. Pain was gnawing at his lungs, and he could hardly breathe. Not again!
The kits gathered around him, letting out anxious squeaks. Their small, furry bodies pressed up against him.
“You’re not ill again, are you?” one of them asked.
He pushed them away as he filled his lungs with air. Yes, yes… not so bad this time. If I can just gather myself. But he heard one of the kittens yowl with pain and he realized he hadn’t been as gentle as he’d hoped. Panic must have made his paws strike out harder than he’d meant.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The kits looked at each other. Finally Owl Eyes muttered, “It’s okay.”
Pebble Heart came scampering up. He dropped something small on the ground and cautiously approached Gray Wing. “May I listen to your chest?” he asked.
Gray Wing eyed him doubtfully. I’m not in the mood for games. But Pebble Heart’s expression was deeply serious, and some instinct told Gray Wing to agree. “Okay,” he mewed, lying down again and rolling onto his back. He allowed Pebble Heart to place his ear against his chest and listen to his breathing.
After a moment Pebble Heart pulled away. “It’s not too bad,” he mewed. “But I brought you a juniper berry to help.” He picked up the small object and dropped it beside Gray Wing.
Gray Wing stared at it for a moment, blinking. Well, I don’t suppose it can do any harm… He licked the berry up, chewed, and swallowed it.
Almost at once Gray Wing felt the last of his tight breathing subside. Astonishment spread through him as his pain ebbed. “How did you know to do that?” he asked, sitting up again.
Pebble Heart studied his paws, looking a bit embarrassed. “I just sort of worked it out for myself,” he admitted.
Gray Wing felt a pang of anxiety. “I hope you don’t start eating random stuff to see what it does,” he meowed.
“Oh, no!” Pebble Heart relaxed a little. “I listen to Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots, so I know which herbs are good and which are dangerous.”
Gray Wing nodded thoughtfully. There was something special about Pebble Heart. Which other kit of his age would want to learn about herbs and know just the right one to bring back in a moment like this? He remembered Stoneteller, back in the mountains, who had so recently visited his dreams. I know she had visions sometimes, he thought. I wonder if this young kit is born to be like the Stoneteller?