Gray Wing watched her, fascinated. “Could I go down there?” he asked.
Wind looked at him, surprised. “If you want,” she replied, dropping the rabbit at Gorse’s paws. “It’s not my home, it’s the rabbit’s.”
Gray Wing padded over to the burrow’s entrance, passing his tongue over his jaws at the strong scent of rabbit. But the hole looked very small, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to try squeezing into it.
Behind him, Wind heaved a huge sigh. “I’ll show you how. You’re skinny enough to get anywhere I can.”
Pushing past Gray Wing, she led the way in. Gray Wing had to follow—otherwise, he would look like a coward in front of these strange cats. He plunged into the hole, his pelt brushing the walls on either side. The burrow was dark and stuffy, and Gray Wing found it harder and harder to put one paw in front of another.
He was wrestling with panic when he felt Wind struggle to turn in front of him and give him a strong shove down a side tunnel. “That way!” she hissed, following him in the new direction.
At once, clearer air stirred Gray Wing’s whiskers and he forced himself forward, with the occasional prod from Wind, until he emerged from another hole among the roots of a gorse bush. He staggered into the open and stood with his chest heaving.
“Mouse-brain!” Wind said, though her voice wasn’t entirely unfriendly. “Don’t do that again. If you panic down there you’ll get lost before you know it.”
Gray Wing was growing calmer now that he was in the fresh air again, with the huge sky above him and the breeze in his whiskers. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea,” he mewed.
But he was still fascinated by the knowledge that there was a network of tunnels underneath the moor. A claw-scratch of memory took him back to the elders’ tales of tunnels in their old home by the lake.
They set some sort of challenge to young cats, who had to find their way out. Gray Wing shivered. I’m glad we don’t do that anymore. I’m not sure my Tribemates would ever see me again.
Gray Wing dipped his head toward Gorse and Wind. “Thanks for showing me,” he meowed. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”
The two cats bade him a rather wary farewell. Gray Wing was just relieved that this encounter with them hadn’t been hostile.
Chapter 16
Changing his mind about visiting the river, Gray Wing headed back to the hollow. As he approached it, he met Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots.
“We’re going to look for herbs,” said Dappled Pelt. “Do you want to come with us?”
“I wish you would,” Cloud Spots added. “Tall Shadow says she doesn’t like cats going off the moor in groups smaller than three.”
Dappled Pelt let out an irritable snort. “She’s just making a fuss.”
“Maybe,” Cloud Spots responded, “but it’ll be useful to have an extra mouth to carry whatever we can forage.”
Gray Wing was happy to turn back and join them as they headed down the slope toward the river. “I met those two cats again—Gorse and Wind,” he mewed. “Wind actually hunts rabbits underground!”
Dappled Pelt blinked in surprise. “I’d like to see that!”
Cloud Spots led the way to where the river emerged from the gorge. Sunlight shimmered on its surface. After several dry days, the water was calmer. Gray Wing waited, enjoying the warmth, while Cloud Spots and Dappled Pelt foraged among the lush vegetation at the water’s edge.
“Look!” Cloud Spots exclaimed. “There are huge clumps of comfrey here.”
“And yarrow!” Dappled Pelt’s waving tail was all that was visible of her above the thickly growing plants. A moment later she emerged with a bunch of herbs in her jaws and set them down beside Gray Wing. “It’s good to know that what we need is close by, and so early in the warm season,” she meowed.
“Back in the mountains, we could spend a whole day searching in the bottom of the valley,” Cloud Spots agreed. “And even then, we’d never find as much as this.”
Together he and Dappled Pelt began to make a pile of useful leaves and roots at the edge of the river. Gray Wing kept watch in case any of the forest cats appeared, but everything was quiet.
When they had almost as much as they could carry, Dappled Pelt halted, tasting the air and gazing across the river to the far bank. “I can smell tansy over there,” she announced. “Jackdaw’s Cry wrenched his leg practicing his leaps, and tansy is really good for that.”
“There are stepping-stones farther downstream,” Gray Wing told her.
Dappled Pelt studied the river for a moment. “It doesn’t look too deep,” she mewed. Before Gray Wing realized what she meant to do, she began to wade out into the water. “If Falling Feather can do it, so can I!”
Gray Wing and Cloud Spots exchanged alarmed glances, then watched Dappled Pelt as she splashed forward, gasping as the cold water reached her belly fur. A heartbeat later she vanished without warning, the river swirling over her head.
“Haredung!” Cloud Spots exclaimed, bounding to the water’s edge. “I’d better go in and save her.”
But before he could plunge into the current, Dappled Pelt’s head broke the surface. She was splashing frantically, somehow managing to propel herself toward the far bank.
“Hey, I’m swimming!” she called, surprise and triumph in her tone.
“It’s not natural,” Cloud Spots grunted. “You look like a furry fish.”
Dappled Pelt scrambled out of the water, shook herself, and plunged into the undergrowth. Moments later she reappeared with a bunch of leaves in her jaws. Wading into the river she swam back, her head held awkwardly high to keep the leaves out of the water.
“See!” she gasped as she clambered up the bank. “It was easy—but oh, that water is cold!”
“I think you’re mousebrained,” Cloud Spots muttered, shaking his head. “Let’s get back to the hollow.”
“Why not stay and catch fish?” Dappled Pelt suggested.
Cloud Spots rolled his eyes. “Don’t even think about it. You’re going straight back to the hollow to dry out, before you get sick.”
Dappled Pelt gave in with an exasperated snort, and the three cats headed back toward the moor. Gray Wing, a pace or two behind the others, heard voices from the other side of a clump of ferns. His fur bristled with suspicion.
Have Wind and Gorse doubled back to spy on us?
But when he crept through the ferns he found Turtle Tail and Bumble crouching side by side, sharing a plump vole.
Bumble was the first to spot him. “Hello, Gray Wing,” she greeted him, sounding pleased to see him.
Turtle Tail sprang to her paws. “Oh… hi,” she meowed. “Bumble saw me catch this vole, and she wanted to know what it tasted like.”
Gray Wing wondered why Turtle Tail sounded so defensive. He was wary of strange cats, but he couldn’t see anything threatening about this kittypet.
“She obviously likes it,” he responded, setting down his bundle of herbs as Bumble tucked in again. “Bumble, why don’t you come live in the forest all the time?”
Bumble looked up, choking on a mouthful of vole. “No way! My housefolk are kind and I never go hungry. The den is nice, too,” she added. “You should come see it!”
“No, thanks,” Gray Wing told her. “We don’t belong with Twolegs.”
“What about you, Turtle Tail?” Bumble asked.
Turtle Tail’s whiskers twitched with curiosity. “It might be interesting to see it… but not right now.”
Swallowing the last mouthful of prey, Bumble meowed, “Thanks, Turtle Tail. Let’s meet up again soon.”
“Okay,” Turtle Tail agreed. “I’ll keep a lookout for you in the hollow with the oak trees.”