Thunder was impressed. Only a few moons ago Clear Sky was acting like he owned the forest, attacking cats who dared to set paw over his borders. Now he wants to keep the peace. “Times have changed,” he murmured.
Clear Sky’s whiskers twitched with irritation. “I haven’t changed that much!” he protested. “I was always the same cat.”
Tall Shadow gave him a long, hard look. “I never doubted it for a moment,” she meowed.
Clear Sky blinked, and a rough purr rose from his throat. Thunder could see how much Tall Shadow’s words meant to him.
“So, how are we going to stop this sickness?” Clear Sky asked briskly, stepping back.
“Only those tending to them are going close to our sick cats,” Tall Shadow explained. “And we’re being careful about hunting, so that we don’t bring sick prey back into the camp.”
“That may not be enough,” Clear Sky commented. “I’ve been thinking… that forest fire was probably a good thing. The flames should have cleansed the land, so the area that was burned might be a good place to make a camp if we need to move.”
Thunder didn’t like the sound of that. “I wouldn’t want to move cats as sick as Morning Whisker.”
Clear Sky gave him a puzzled look. “Well, we’d leave the sick cats behind,” he mewed.
“Otherwise we’d bring the sickness with us.”
Thunder let out a sigh. My father still has that ruthless streak!
He could see that Tall Shadow wasn’t keen on Clear Sky’s idea, either. “Why don’t we all meet by the four trees and discuss it?” she suggested.
Clear Sky hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll tell my cats. Is sunset okay?”
Once Tall Shadow had assented, Clear Sky bounded off. Thunder watched him go, unable to feel hopeful about the meeting.
Where is Gray Wing?
The rest of the day seemed to stretch out like an entire season. Thunder left the camp, partly to hunt, but mostly to keep his eyes open for his missing kin. Though he hunted well, chasing down a rabbit, he found no trace of Gray Wing.
I wish the day was over, he thought as he returned to the camp with his prey. Maybe some cat at the meeting will know where Gray Wing is.
But as Thunder padded down into the hollow, he regretted wishing the moments away. A shriek of grief sounded from Wind Runner’s den. Dropping his rabbit, Thunder bounded over there to find
Morning Whisker stretched out on the ground. The kit’s eyes were rolled back in her head. There were scuff marks on the ground beside her, as though she had raked the earth in some kind of fit. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, swollen and cracked. As Thunder watched, pity and horror surging through his body, the tiny kit’s spine contorted in a final shudder of pain. Then she lay still.
Wind Runner sprang toward her, but Pebble Heart was faster, darting to block her.
“Get out of my way!” Wind Runner snarled.
“I can’t let you touch her,” Pebble Heart responded. “I’m sorry. But even now, you could catch the sickness.”
“She’s my kit!” Wind Runner howled, her voice cracking with grief. “I can’t lose another one!”
Furiously she lashed out at Pebble Heart, her claws extended. Thunder leaped forward to get between them, taking the blow on his own shoulder.
“Don’t,” he meowed to Wind Runner. “Pebble Heart is only trying to help.”
Wind Runner glared at him for a heartbeat, and Thunder braced himself for an attack. But instead the brown she-cat collapsed to the ground, letting out a thin, heartbroken wail. Gorse Fur crouched beside her, licking her ears, and the rest of the cats gathered around in silent concern.
Tall Shadow was the last to approach; Wind Runner looked up and faced her with hostility in her eyes. “Don’t tell me!” she spat. “We’ll need to have a burial. You’re very good at organizing those, aren’t you?”
Thunder rested his tail on Wind Runner’s shoulder. “Tall Shadow only wants to help,” he told her, trying not to sound harsh. He could see that Wind Runner was out of her mind with grief.
Tall Shadow dipped her head toward Wind Runner, her eyes patient and sorrowful. “What would you like us to do?” she asked.
Wind Runner gazed for a moment at Gorse Fur, then at her dead kit. “I’d like us to send Morning Whisker to live with the spirit-cats,” she whispered. “That’s what she deserves.”
“Yes, I’d like that too,” Gorse Fur agreed.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Tall Shadow mewed. Turning to the other cats, she continued, “Go and fetch leaves—as many as you can find. Not dried up and crackly, but fresh ones that we can use to wrap Morning Whisker’s body.”
Grateful for something to do, Thunder bounded out of the hollow with his denmates, heading for the forest. As he reached the outskirts he found plenty of leaves, and collected up a bundle to carry back to camp. The others returned too, piling their leaves in a heap beside the kit’s body.
“Pebble Heart,” Tall Shadow meowed, “you and Cloud Spots are the only cats who have touched Morning Whisker directly. Will you wrap her in the leaves, please?”
“Of course, Tall Shadow.” Pebble Heart dipped his head respectfully.
Leaf by leaf, under the intent gaze of their denmates, Pebble Heart and Cloud Spots wrapped the kit in layer after layer of leaves until her whole body was covered. Then between them, Mouse Ear and Jagged Peak nudged her across the moor, all the weary way to the four trees, with the rest of the group surrounding them in silent escort.
As the sun slid down the sky, casting long shadows over their path, Thunder realized with a start that Morning Whisker would never see another morning in her short life. It wasn’t fair—for one so young to be lost, or for Wind Runner to lose another of her kits. His heart started to pound and he didn’t know how to go on bearing his sorrow.
At last the cats arrived beside the grave where the cats who had died in the battle were buried.
“Where would you like to put her?” Tall Shadow asked Wind Runner. “We shouldn’t disturb the main grave.”
Wind Runner’s gaze fell on a gorse bush at the foot of the slope that led down into the clearing.
“Over there,” she meowed. “Morning Whisker always liked hiding in bushes.”
She began scraping at the ground underneath the bush. Thunder and the other cats joined in to help her and soon they had dug a hole big enough to bury the kit. Gorse Fur nudged the tiny, leaf-wrapped body into the grave, and helped Wind Runner to paw the soil back over it, patting it down gently.
Wind Runner tore a sprig of gorse off the bush and laid it on the grave, her eyes wide with sorrow.
“Good-bye, my little one,” she whispered.
Thunder’s heart ached as he glanced up at the sky, where clouds had covered the sun. He knew it was still too early for the spirit-cats to appear, but he sent a message up to them.
“Set Wind Runner’s kit free of her pain,” he murmured. “And let her play among the stars.”
When he looked down again, Tall Shadow gave him an approving nod. “Well spoken,” she mewed. Glancing around at the other cats, she added, “We may as well stay here. It’s not long to sunset, when we have to meet Clear Sky and his cats.”
Wind Runner turned away from her kit’s grave. “I’m not staying,” she told the others with a challenging look. “I can’t stand all of this anymore. I should have remained a rogue, alone on the moors. If I’d had my kits alone, maybe Morning Whisker would still be alive now. Maybe none of this would have happened. I’ve helped…” Her voice shook and she made a massive effort to steady it. “I’ve helped you hunt and in battle, and all I’ve had in return is grief and heartbreak.”