Clear Sky froze, his ears flicking forward. “That’s Moon Shadow!” he exclaimed.
He sprang forward in the direction of the sounds, and the others followed. As Gray Wing wound his way among the ferns he heard Turtle Tail meow behind him. “Wouldn’t you just know that he’d be the one to get into trouble?”
Gray Wing remembered the Twolegplace and the fight with the kittypets. Moon Shadow shouldn’t go off by himself. But we still have to help him.
The brothers burst into a clearing, the other cats hard on their paws. At the far side, Gray Wing spotted Moon Shadow locked in a caterwauling bundle of fur with three other cats. The struggle heaved back and forth at the edge of a bramble thicket; a tail-length or so away was the body of a squirrel.
With an ear-splitting shriek, Clear Sky hurtled across the clearing. He grabbed one cat by the shoulder and hauled him away from Moon Shadow. Gray Wing leaped on top of another and cuffed the cat around the ears until she let go of his friend.
He wasn’t prepared for the cat to turn on him, or for the ferocity of the attack. Before he could think about defending himself claws were raking down his side. He tried to bring up his hind paws to thrust the cat off, but the cat wrapped her forepaws around his neck and clung tightly. Gray Wing jerked his head away to avoid teeth aimed for his throat.
He was dimly aware of more yowling and skirmishing around him. The taste of blood was in his mouth. This cat wants to kill me, he thought, his senses fogged with pain.
Then a heavy weight landed on top of him and his opponent. Gray Wing almost despaired, until he heard a familiar voice raised in an enraged yowl. “Get off him!”
Turtle Tail!
The other cat rolled away and Gray Wing staggered to his paws. He saw that all three strange cats had broken off the fight and stood glaring and hissing at the mountain cats. Gray Wing got a good look at them for the first time. One was the black she-cat with the white paw that he and Clear Sky had met on the rocks a few days before. The others were a small yellow tabby she-cat and a black-and-white tom. Fierce satisfaction surged through him when he saw that they all bore the marks of claws.
Moon Shadow lay panting at the edge of the thicket, a clump of fur torn away from his shoulder. Turtle Tail padded over and helped him to his paws; she had a scratched muzzle, and her fur was ruffled.
“They attacked me!” Moon Shadow exclaimed indignantly.
Turtle Tail was unsympathetic. “What did you think would happen when you wandered off on your own, flea-brain?”
“I told you before,” the black she-cat snapped, glaring at Clear Sky and Gray Wing. “You’re not welcome here. Why don’t you go back where you came from?”
“Yes, and stop stealing our prey,” the black-and-white tom added.
“Your prey?” Moon Shadow was outraged. “I caught that squirrel! That makes it my prey!”
The yellow tabby slid out her claws, her muscles tensed as if she was about to leap at Moon Shadow. Gray Wing braced himself in case the fight erupted again.
“You fight like half-dead rabbits,” the black-and-white tom snarled. “You only won this time because there are more of you. But just watch your tails if you come back.”
“Yeah,” the yellow tabby added. “We’ll be waiting.”
The black she-cat waved her tail and all three forest cats headed off into the undergrowth. At the last moment the yellow tabby darted over to the squirrel, grabbed it, and dragged it away with her.
“Hey!” Moon Shadow protested, starting after her.
Clear Sky barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. “Have you learned nothing?” he demanded. “This isn’t the time to start another fight.”
Huffing indignantly, Moon Shadow got up and followed Clear Sky as he led the way back to the moor. Gray Wing found it hard going; the scratches on his side grew more painful with every step. Jackdaw’s Cry was limping from a torn claw, Falling Feather had lost a pawful of fur, and blood was trickling from Clear Sky’s shoulder.
This is winning? What happens if we lose? Gray Wing wondered.
“You’ve been told time and time again…” Tall Shadow faced Moon Shadow, her voice taut with fury and her tail lashing, “…and still you don’t listen!”
The hunting party had returned to the hollow on the moor, where Clear Sky had reported the clash with the forest cats.
“Because it’s a flea-brained order!” Moon Shadow retorted. “This is a smaller space than we had in the mountains. Why do you want us to sit here trembling like hunted rabbits?”
Gray Wing had to admit that Moon Shadow had a point. The hollow wasn’t comfortable enough for a permanent home, and the prey-rich forest was too tantalizing for every cat to ignore.
Tall Shadow’s fury ebbed and she twitched her whiskers thoughtfully. “Okay, maybe we should hunt more regularly in the forest. We can’t let those cats think they’ve frightened us off.” She fixed her brother with a fierce green glare. “But you don’t go off on your own again, is that clear?”
Moon Shadow shrugged. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d let us hunt there properly.”
Cloud Spots padded up with a mouthful of herbs and set them down. “I managed to find chervil,” he meowed. “Let me put some on your scratches.”
He dabbed juice onto Turtle Tail’s injured muzzle, then turned to Gray Wing, who lay down so that Cloud Spots could treat the scratches on his side.
“You know,” Cloud Spots murmured as he patted the chewed-up leaves into place, “I’m not happy with the idea that we always have to fight these other cats. Maybe we should think about finding a way to live peacefully near them.”
“I’m not sure,” Gray Wing responded. “I wish we could do that, but maybe we’re just too different from them.”
On the following day, the sun had just cleared the horizon when Moon Shadow announced he was going hunting.
Tall Shadow turned to look at him, her tail-tip twitching. Before she could speak, Clear Sky stepped up beside Moon Shadow. “I’ll come with you,” he offered.
Jagged Peak, Quick Water, and Shattered Ice jumped up to join them, and after a moment’s hesitation Tall Shadow gave a mrrow of agreement. “Okay. Good luck.”
“What about you?” Clear Sky asked Gray Wing.
“Not this time,” Gray Wing replied. His scratches from the fight were still sore and he didn’t think he would be much use at tracking prey under the trees. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t afraid of meeting the other cats again.
Once the hunters had gone, Turtle Tail padded over to Gray Wing. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” she suggested. “No catching prey, no getting into fights.”
“That sounds good,” Gray Wing agreed.
When they left the hollow they could still see Clear Sky and the other hunters heading across the moor toward the forest. “Are you following them?” Gray Wing asked, surprised.
“No, I just want to go to the giant oaks again,” Turtle Tail explained. “I like it there!”
The vast hollow was quiet except for the gentle rustling of the oak trees. Sunlight slanted through their branches, dappling the forest floor. Turtle Tail raced down the slope and over to the huge boulder between the four oaks, clawing her way up it until she stood on top.
“Come on!” she called, waving her tail at Gray Wing. “It’s great up here!”
Gray Wing followed her more slowly, and clambered up the rock, digging his claws into tiny cracks, until he stood beside her. The sun-warmed surface felt good under his pads, and he lay down on one side to let the sunlight play over his fur.