“Well, everything’s okay now.” Turtle Tail comforted Quick Water, bending to dry her fur with long, strong licks.
Gray Wing and Cloud Spots joined Turtle Tail to get Quick Water’s fur dry faster. Meanwhile Falling Feather gave her own pelt a couple of swipes with her tongue. “It’s dry, it’s fine,” she mewed when Dappled Pelt offered to help her. “Come on. We don’t want to stay here all day.”
By this time, sunlight was fading. Shadows gathered around the cats as they trudged along the path beside the river, growing more tired and chilled with every paw step.
“My fur is so cold,” Quick Water grumbled. “No cat should have to get that wet.”
Jagged Peak, padding alongside Gray Wing, let out a faint snort of amusement. “I think Quick Water should change her name to No Water!”
Eventually Shaded Moss halted beside a thicket of bushes and raised his tail to signal that they should stop. “We’ll spend the night here,” he announced. “Do any of you feel like hunting?”
“It’s too dark,” Hawk Swoop objected.
“But I can scent prey,” Moon Shadow meowed, licking his jaws in anticipation. “I’ll see what I can track.”
“Me too!” Jagged Peak added enthusiastically.
“It’s great that you want to try,” Dappled Pelt remarked. “But I seriously doubt you’ll catch anything.”
As the two hunters set off, the rest of the cats started to find spots for makeshift nests among the bushes. Gray Wing took a step toward his brother, hoping they might share a nest as they had in the cave, but Clear Sky turned away and curled up underneath a low branch. Gray Wing sighed and went to find his own spot. He was flattening a clump of longer grass when Shaded Moss padded up to him.
“You shouldn’t blame yourself for Bright Stream’s death,” the black-and-white tom began. “Every cat knew the dangers when they chose to come on the journey.”
“But it was my fault,” Gray Wing insisted bleakly. “She was trying to help me instead of taking care of herself.”
Shaded Moss fixed Gray Wing with a gaze full of sympathy and understanding. “You would have done exactly the same thing in her position. If she were still alive, she wouldn’t blame you.”
Gray Wing turned his head away, unable to meet that penetrating look. “If she were still alive, she wouldn’t need to blame me,” he rasped.
Shaded Moss said no more, and Gray Wing heard him padding away. He curled up in his grassy nest and closed his eyes. After a moment he felt another cat curling up beside him. Turtle Tail’s scent washed over him.
He was slipping into sleep when he heard bounding paw steps and Jagged Peak’s triumphant voice. “Look what we caught!”
Gray Wing scrambled to his paws along with Turtle Tail and the rest of the cats, who crowded around Jagged Peak and Moon Shadow. On the ground in front of them lay a small brown bird and a plump rat almost the size of a kit.
“Who said we couldn’t hunt at night?” Jagged Peak meowed.
After the days of near starvation in the mountains the prey seemed like a feast, and the cats’ spirits rose. Even Clear Sky ate a few mouthfuls.
“We should remember Stoneteller at times like these,” Shaded Moss announced when the prey had been eaten. “We should thank her for directing us out of the mountains to a place where there’s enough food, even in the cold season.”
I do thank you, Stoneteller, Gray Wing thought, raising his eyes to the stars. I just wish I could tell you that we’ve made it this far.
Gray Wing awoke at dawn and scrambled to his paws. Around him the other cats were emerging from their nests in the thicket. The sun was just beginning to rise ahead of them, its golden beams pouring down to illuminate the valley. The narrow cleft where they had slept opened out into a soft green landscape that stretched flat and welcoming all the way to the distant blurry horizon.
“Wow!” Dappled Pelt whispered. “It’s the sun trail, just like Stoneteller said.”
A breeze was blowing toward them from the valley, carrying harsh, unfamiliar sounds. Gray Wing pricked his ears, trying to make sense of the distant buzzing, but it was like nothing he had ever heard before.
Turtle Tail came to stand beside him. “Why do I feel that our journey is only just starting to get difficult?” she asked.
Gray Wing nodded. “I know what you mean.”
Clear Sky appeared, climbing the bank from the river and shaking water droplets from his whiskers. Gray Wing noticed that he was moving more resolutely, with new determination in his eyes as he strode up to Shaded Moss. “This is it,” Clear Sky meowed. “We leave the mountains today. For Bright Stream’s sake, I’ll help you find our new home.”
“Good.” Shaded Moss touched the younger cat on the shoulder with his tail.
Gray Wing squared his shoulders. If Clear Sky, after all he had lost, could focus on their journey, then he could, too. He still felt full from his share of the prey the night before, and he guessed that the others were, too; they were all ready to set out after a drink from the river.
Quick Water padded along briskly; she had found time to groom herself, and looked recovered from her fall into the river.
Gray Wing quickened his pace to walk alongside her. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” Quick Water gave her chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks. “But I still feel really stupid for falling off that rock.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gray Wing purred. “At least we found out that Falling Feather doesn’t mind swimming. That could be useful at some point.”
As the cats continued, the mountains fell away on either side. The last vestiges of snow vanished from the landscape. Emerging from the mouth of the valley, every cat halted to stare in silent astonishment.
The river flowed away through flat stretches of green grass, dotted with huge spreading trees. The closest stretch of grass was enclosed by shiny mesh and lines of thick bushes growing close together. Inside were strange animals that looked like clouds, though they had hard black paws and black faces that bent to nibble the grass.
Warily the cats approached to peer through the bushes. The nearest animal turned to look at them and let out a weird bleating cry. Gray Wing jumped and flinched back a pace, then felt embarrassed until he realized that all his companions had done the same.
“I’m pretty sure those are sheep,” Shaded Moss meowed. “I remember the elders telling tales about them. They’re not dangerous.”
“Just huge.” Jackdaw’s Cry gulped.
Jagged Peak crept up to the line of bushes again. “I wonder what they taste like.”
Gray Wing gave him a gentle flick over the ear with his tail. “You will not start hunting sheep!”
Turning away from the creatures, the cats padded on beside the river. Gray Wing was nervous about venturing into the vast open stretch of grass, and guessed that his companions felt the same.
“This is a bit scary,” Turtle Tail confessed, coming to walk at his side.
“I know,” Gray Wing agreed. “There’s nowhere to hide!” But I could run so fast here, he thought with a twinge of longing. I could stretch my legs farther than ever before.
Gazing across the landscape he spotted a flicker of movement: something small and brown hopping through the grass. Rabbit! Without pausing to think, Gray Wing took off, racing over the ground until the land and the sky vanished into a blur. The rabbit hurtled away from him, but he kept his gaze fixed on it.
Everything seemed to slow down. Gray Wing felt his muscles bunching and stretching under his fur, his paws pushing off from the soft grass, propelling him forward. Suddenly the rabbit was in front of him; he leaped on top of it, killing it with a swift bite.