“Wow!” Cloud Spots breathed out at Gray Wing’s shoulder.
Jagged Peak’s voice rose in an excited squeak: “Why don’t we live here?”
Gray Wing gave him a quelling look, but didn’t reply. As he led the way down the slope, ears alert for possible danger, he began to feel once again the familiar sensation of being trapped under the trees. The branches arched overhead, interlacing so that he could only see patches of open sky.
In the middle of the four oaks, a huge jagged rock stretched many tail-lengths into the air. Jagged Peak bunched his muscles and tried to leap onto the top, but it was too high for him. He dropped back, his claws scrabbling at the rock face.
“Clear Sky would be able to leap up there!” he mewed, with an annoyed flick of his tail.
“Yes, but why would he want to?” Gray Wing pointed out. Avoiding an argument with Jagged Peak, he added, “We should stop for a while and hunt. There’s bound to be prey among all this undergrowth.”
Jagged Peak headed off at once.
“Stay in the hollow!” Gray Wing called after him.
The rest of the group split up. As Gray Wing had hoped, the prey was plentiful, and before long they gathered at the base of the rock to eat. As he swallowed bites of mouse, he heard rustling in the bushes on the side of the hollow. Tasting the air, he picked up the scent of cat.
“It’s a rogue,” Turtle Tail whispered.
Watching the movement of the branches, Gray Wing caught glimpses of a ginger pelt; the strange cat was moving toward the top of the hollow. More movement appeared farther up, and a black-and-white face popped out for a moment between the fronds of a clump of fern.
“There are more of them!” Jagged Peak sprang to his paws, his claws extended. “We should fight them off.”
Cloud Spots moved to block the young cat before he could go charging off the slope. “Are you flea-brained?” he hissed. “Why should we fight them? They’re not doing us any harm.”
“But they—” Jagged Peak began to protest.
“Cloud Spots is right,” Gray Wing meowed, remembering the claws of the kittypet he had fought in the Twolegplace. “We’re not fit for fighting yet, and we need to have a much clearer idea of this place before we risk meeting hostile cats.”
“For all we know, they might be friendly,” Rainswept Flower added.
Jagged Peak gave a snort of disbelief, but didn’t say any more. Gray Wing cast a wary eye back toward the cat peering out from the ferns. He did not know if these cats would cause them trouble or not—but he would keep his eyes and ears open, just in case.
Two sunrises later, Gray Wing was hunting alone on the moor. The warm, bright weather had given way to a raw chill, with clouds covering the sky and a smattering of rain on the wind.
Gray Wing scanned the moorland for the least sign of movement. His pads tingled with excitement as he spotted a rabbit racing across the top of the slope. He sprang forward. The rabbit veered aside with a shrill squeal of fear and Gray Wing altered course, stretching out his paws and pushing off from the tough grass to force out every last bit of speed.
He was reaching for the rabbit when something slammed into him from the side. His paws skidded out from under him and he crashed to the ground, rolling over with legs and tail waving.
Half stunned, Gray Wing scrambled up to see a wiry brown she-cat glaring at him with yellow eyes. Just beyond her, a thin gray tom was rising to his paws and shaking scraps of grass from his pelt. The rapidly fading scent told Gray Wing that the rabbit had escaped.
He lashed his tail angrily. “You made me lose my rabbit!”
“Your rabbit?” The gray tom stepped forward to stand beside the she-cat. “Wind, why do you think this crow-food eater thinks that was his rabbit?”
“I have no idea, Gorse,” the she-cat, Wind, replied, her neck fur bristling. “We’ve seen you, you know,” she hissed at Gray Wing. “Strolling in here, stealing our prey!”
“Yes, where did you come from?” Gorse asked aggressively. “I hope you don’t mean to stay long, because—”
“We’ll stay as long as we like,” Gray Wing retorted. “The prey belongs to the cats who can catch it, and there’s plenty here for all of us.”
Wind slid out her claws. “That’s not for you to say.”
Gray Wing braced himself for an attack, but before Wind or Gorse could spring, a cool voice spoke from somewhere behind him. “Having trouble, Gray Wing?”
Glancing over his shoulder, Gray Wing saw Tall Shadow appearing from behind a lichen-covered boulder. Her paw had healed, and she looked formidable, her green eyes narrowing as she faced the hostile cats. Hawk Swoop was padding at her shoulder, her teeth bared in the beginning of a snarl.
“These cats knocked me over when I was chasing a rabbit,” Gray Wing explained.
“We knocked you over?” Wind let out a snort of disgust. “You ran straight into us. You’re as blind as a mole in daylight!”
“We’re not going to argue,” Tall Shadow mewed, flexing her claws. “I’d leave, if I were you. Or do you want us to make you?”
Gorse took a step back, and after a heartbeat Wind followed. “Don’t think you’re getting away with this,” she snapped as she retreated. “You’re not welcome here!”
Tall Shadow stood watching until a fold in the moor hid the two rogues, then led the way back to the hollow on the moors. Before they reached it, a thin rain began to fall, soaking the cats’ pelts. Water welled up from the grass when they set down their paws.
Gray Wing felt thoroughly dejected. He was glad that Tall Shadow and Hawk Swoop had turned up before a fight started, but… I shouldn’t have been so quick to argue. I could have talked to Gorse and Wind… do we really want to fight to stay here?
When they arrived at the hollow, Hawk Swoop told the story to the rest of the cats. “Tall Shadow made them go away,” she finished triumphantly. “She was great!”
But not every cat was pleased to hear what had happened. “Will it be like that every time we go hunting?” Turtle Tail asked. “I don’t want to have to fight for the right to catch prey.”
“Neither do I,” Rainswept Flower agreed. “Maybe this isn’t where we’re supposed to live, after all.”
Cloud Spots nodded. “Suppose Tall Shadow and Hawk Swoop hadn’t turned up when they did. Gray Wing could have been seriously hurt.”
Jackdaw’s Cry and Dappled Pelt exchanged glances. “If worse comes to worst, we could always go back to the mountains,” Jackdaw’s Cry pointed out. “Prey was scarce, but at least we didn’t have to fight for it.”
For the next few days the rain continued almost without a break. Exploring didn’t seem exciting anymore, especially with the threat of meeting more hostile cats. Gray Wing and the others huddled under the gorse bushes for shelter, except when hunger drove them out to catch rabbits.
Four sunrises after his encounter with Wind and Gorse, Gray Wing awoke from an uncomfortable doze to see Moon Shadow crashing down the slope among the bushes, dragging something heavy behind him.
“Look what I caught!” the black tom exclaimed proudly, dropping two squirrels beside the rock where Tall Shadow was sheltering.
“Where did you get those?” Tall Shadow mewed.
“In the woodland,” Moon Shadow boasted, gazing around as other cats came up to examine his prey. “It was easy.”
“It was flea-brained,” Tall Shadow snapped. “You shouldn’t have gone there alone. From now on, we hunt in groups.”
“Who died and put you in charge?” Moon Shadow demanded, his tail-tip twitching in annoyance.
“Shaded Moss, actually,” Tall Shadow replied. “And it’s not a position I ever asked for.”