Warriors: Dawn of the Clans #1: The Sun Trail (13 page)

Tasting the air for prey, Gray Wing scrambled backward as a huge black-and-white animal loomed over him. His heart pounded as he gazed up at it and saw that more were following it, lumbering through a gap in the line of bushes.

They’re even bigger than sheep!
he thought, casting his mind back to the elders’ stories.
Maybe they’re cows?
One of them let out a deep-throated
moooo
, and Gray Wing remembered how Misty Water loved to imitate that noise, scaring the kits who were listening to her tales.

He crouched in the long grass, too scared to move in case the cows saw him and gave chase. But the vast creatures bumbled past him without taking any notice, so he crept forward, skirting them at a safe distance.

Beyond the cows, Gray Wing spotted a rabbit startled out of hiding, and set off after it. He relished the feeling of wind in his fur, though the long grass tangled his paws and slowed him down.

The rabbit reached the bushes and darted into a hole among the roots.
Haredung!
Gray Wing thought, staring in frustration at the narrow opening.

“Hey!”

Gray Wing turned to see Turtle Tail with a small bird under her paws. “I got one!” she announced. “Do you want to share?”

Gray Wing left the burrow, still wondering whether he would be able to hunt underground. The rest of the cats were gathering in the shelter of the bushes. They had caught plenty of prey, so those like Gray Wing who had been unlucky wouldn’t go hungry.

“I got two crows!” Clear Sky boasted, flicking his tail toward two heaps of untidy black feathers.

Before they began to eat, Shaded Moss stood gazing back toward the mountains they had left, now no more than a blur on the horizon. “Thank you, Stoneteller,” he meowed, “for sending us to this place.”

When every cat was stuffed full, there was still prey left over.

“It seems so
wrong
to leave it,” Rainswept Flower murmured regretfully.

As the cats headed away, Gray Wing glanced back to see a thin, red-furred creature slink out of the grass. At first he stiffened, thinking it was a dog, but its snout was sharper and it had a stronger, rank scent. It snatched some of the remains of the prey and stood gulping it down, its gaze darting to and fro.

Gray Wing nudged Shattered Ice, who was walking next to him. “What’s that, do you think?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” Shattered Ice replied.

“It looks mean,” said Gray Wing. He quickened his pace, but decided not to alarm the others.

By the time the light started to fade, the cats had crossed several narrow Thunderpaths and skirted a cluster of red stone Twoleg dens where a number of dogs lurked, barking. Beyond the dens, the ground sloped down into a marshy hollow, covered by tussocky grass with clumps of reeds here and there.

“We can’t go this way,” Quick Water protested, staring down into the dip with a look of disgust on her face. “We’ll get our paws wet.”

Shaded Moss glanced in both directions; following his gaze, Gray Wing realized that the boggy area stretched out of sight on each side. “We
have
to,” Shaded Moss decided. When Quick Water opened her jaws to argue, he added, “Wet paws won’t kill any cat.”

But when they reached the bottom of the slope, Gray Wing and the others realized that they would be lucky to escape with nothing worse than wet paws. The ground shivered as they padded across; as they moved farther into the marsh, they began to sink until every cat was wading through mud up to their bellies. The stench of it rose around them and clouds of midges billowed into the air.

“This is awful!” Hawk Swoop exclaimed. “I’ll never get my fur clean.”

Quick Water was muttering under her breath as she floundered from tussock to tussock, and even Falling Feather looked uncomfortable.

Jagged Peak, the lightest of the cats, was having an easier time than the rest—until he slipped sideways from a clump of grass and started to sink, his forepaws splashing vainly at the mud.

“Help!” he wailed.

Rainswept Flower hauled herself onto the clump of grass and bent over, grabbing Jagged Peak by the scruff of the neck. She dragged him out and set him on his paws again, his pelt plastered with mud.

“Thanks!” he gasped.

Every cat was cold, soaked, and filthy by the time they reached the other side of the marsh. All they could think of was finding some kind of shelter.

Not far away, they spotted a huge cave made out of wood.
It must be a different kind of Twoleg den
, Gray Wing thought.

Shaded Moss took the lead again as they trudged toward it, pausing cautiously when they reached the entrance. Gray Wing peered over his shoulder. The den contained huge stacks of pressed, dried grass, and he felt even more exhausted as he thought about the warm and comfortable nests they could make in it. There were several raised pools of water in stone hollows; Gray Wing passed his tongue over his lips, realizing how thirsty he was after taking several mouthfuls of the foul marsh water. Even better, the scent of mice wafted out to meet them, and Gray Wing could hear myriad squeaks and scufflings coming from the dried grass.

“What are we waiting for?” Moon Shadow asked, shouldering his way past Shaded Moss. “This place is teeming with prey!”

Shaded Moss nodded. “It seems safe enough. There are no Twolegs here.”

With his go-ahead, the cats dived into the den, eager to hunt.
We’ve eaten once today
, Gray Wing thought, as his claws closed on a mouse,
but I can definitely manage more. We can’t waste all this prey!

The cats settled in the warm grass to share their catch, taking one bite and then exchanging as they did in their mountain home. Gray Wing could feel his pelt tighten as his belly swelled, full of delicious food.

“I’ve been thinking,” Rainswept Flower announced while they were still eating. “Everything we want is here. What else could we possibly be looking for? What if we’ve
found
our new home?”

For a moment every cat was
silent with shock. Moon Shadow was the first to speak. “Suits me,” he meowed, swiping his tongue around his jaws.

“Yes, it’s warm and dry in here,” Quick Water agreed.

“And there’s no smell of dogs,” Shattered Ice added. His nose twitched. “There’s a different sort of scent, but I don’t recognize it. Still, if it’s not dogs or eagles, it can’t be dangerous.”

Shaded Moss was looking thoughtful. “It could work,” he said at last. “And we’re close enough to the mountains to go back and visit the others now and then.”

Excited murmurs rose from the group of cats, and they glanced at one another with shining eyes.

“We can make nests in this dried grass,” Falling Feather mewed. “It would be a great place for bringing up kits.”

Gray Wing didn’t join in the plans. He couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.
There’s nothing
wrong
with this place
, he thought.
But I imagined finding our new home would feel more
right
.

He looked around, trying to picture himself and his Tribemates living here. His legs felt restless at the thought of being trapped within the wooden walls. They were not as
natural
as the walls of a cave. Besides, he would have liked to know what the strange scent was.

But if it’s right for the others
,
shouldn’t I be happy to stay
? he asked himself guiltily.

“What do you think?” he asked Turtle Tail, who was sitting beside him. “Is this the place we’ve been looking for?”

The tortoiseshell she-cat looked surprised. “I’m pretty sure it is,” she replied. “Aren’t you?”

Gray Wing shook his head.

“Everything beyond the mountains is going to feel strange,” Turtle Tail pointed out. “It’s just a case of getting used to a different way of living.”

Gray Wing suppressed a sigh. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted, curling up next to her to sleep.

Before he closed his eyes, Gray Wing spotted Clear Sky sitting on the hard earth floor, staring into the shadows. His brother was illuminated by a shaft of moonlight that shone through a gap in the wall, turning his light gray pelt to silver. He looked so alone that Gray Wing’s heart ached for him.

If only Bright Stream were still here
.

The cats burrowed into the warm, dry grass to make nests, and fell into a deep, sound sleep. They felt so safe that no cat suggested setting a watch.

An unfamiliar noise aroused Gray Wing. His eyes blinked open and he saw gray dawn light seeping through the gaps in the shelter wall. Outside he could hear a trampling noise, and knew that was what had awoken him.

Springing to his paws, Gray Wing turned to face the shelter entrance. Outside in the dimness he could see a pale, moving mass converging on the shelter. The trampling grew louder.

“Wake up!” he screeched, hurling himself at one cat after another and swiping his paws across their ears to make them wake. “Run!”

Glancing back at the entrance he realized that the pale mass had drawn closer; now he could see that it was made up of sheep—more sheep than he had ever seen before, and all of them heading for the shelter. Their trampling and bleating seemed to fill the whole world and their scent—the strange scent they had picked up before—flooded over him.

“We can’t get out!” Falling Feather yowled. “They’ll crush us!”

Already the first sheep were trotting into the shelter, pushing one another to get through the entrance. There was no way past them that could avoid their sharp, cruel paws.

“Over here!” Rainswept Flower gasped.

Darting after her across the tumbled heaps of grass, Gray Wing saw a tiny gap at the bottom of the shelter’s wooden wall. One by one the cats squeezed through, as the shelter filled with the noisy, restless sheep.

Waiting for his turn, Gray Wing heard a shriek of pain and saw Hawk Swoop fall to the ground while a sheep trampled over her. He leaped forward but Clear Sky was faster, grabbing her by the scruff and dragging her toward the gap. He shoved her through and followed; Gray Wing was right behind him, with Shaded Moss at his tail.

“Are we all here?” Shaded Moss asked, after they had all struggled out into the open.

Gray Wing checked, and saw to his relief that no cat had been left behind. They all seemed uninjured, too, except for Hawk Swoop, who was standing with one of her forelegs at a very strange angle.

“Can you walk?” Shaded Moss asked her.

“I’ll try,” Hawk Swoop replied, her breath hissing through her teeth. She limped a few paces, clearly in a lot of pain.

“I don’t think you can,” Gray Wing meowed. He spotted a clump of long grass and nettles beside the wooden wall, and let Hawk Swoop lean on his shoulder until she could collapse there out of the chill dawn wind.

Gray Wing beckoned Dappled Pelt with his tail. “You know the most about herbs,” he meowed. “What should we do for her?”

Dappled Pelt looked confused. “Daisy leaves, or elder,” she replied at last. “But I don’t know if they grow around here. Jackdaw’s Cry, Falling Feather, can you go and look for some?”

As the two young cats bounded off, Cloud Spots padded up to Hawk Swoop and examined her carefully; she drew in her breath with a gasp of pain as he prodded her injured leg.

“I’ve seen injuries like this before,” Cloud Spots mewed. “Her leg has come out of joint at the shoulder.”

“Then she’ll be stuck like that?” Quick Water sounded horrified.

“No, not at all,” Cloud Spots responded. “I once watched Quiet Rain treat one of the elders for this after they slipped off a rock. Herbs will only help the
pain
, not the injury.”

Hawk Swoop gasped in agony as Cloud Spots set his paws on her neck and shoulder. “This will hurt,” Cloud Spots told her, “but it will soon be over.” Flicking his ears at Gray Wing, he added, “Come here and hold her. Put your paws there . . . and there . . . and keep her absolutely still when I give the order.”

Gray Wing placed his paws where Cloud Spots had indicated. “I’m ready.”

“Good.
Now
!”

Cloud Spots yanked hard at Hawk Swoop’s leg; Gray Wing was nearly rocked off his paws by the force of it. Hawk Swoop let out a shriek. Then Cloud Spots stepped back and Gray Wing saw that the she-cat’s leg was back in position. She lay trembling, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Can you move your leg? Does it still hurt?” Cloud Spots asked.

Hawk Swoop flexed her leg. “It only aches a bit,” she meowed. “Oh, thank you, Cloud Spots!”

“Well done.” Shaded Moss touched Cloud Spots’s shoulder with his tail.

Cloud Spots shrugged. “It’s just lucky I saw what Quiet Rain did.”

At that moment Jackdaw’s Cry and Falling Feather returned, their mouths full of herbs. “Are these the right ones?” Falling Feather asked, dropping her bundle in front of Dappled Pelt.

Dappled Pelt sorted through the leaves. “Do you think these are okay?” she asked Cloud Spots.

Cloud Spots carefully picked out a couple of leaves with his claws. “These look like the ones we have in the mountains,” he mewed, giving them to Hawk Swoop. “Chew them well and swallow them to help the pain,” he told her.

While Hawk Swoop was eating the herbs Shaded Moss padded up to her. “You need to rest. We’ll stay here for the day.”

Gray Wing heard a few murmurs of discontent from his Tribemates.

“I’m freezing!” Quick Water complained. “We’re all getting soaked out here.”

She was right; the chilly breeze carried a sharp, stinging rain. But there wasn’t anything they could do about it, and Shaded Moss gave Quick Water a stern look. “You can go back into the shelter with the sheep if you like,” he mewed.

Quick Water scuffled her forepaws on the ground, looking embarrassed. “I suppose out here isn’t so bad.”

“We could hunt,” Clear Sky suggested, though he didn’t sound enthusiastic.

“Our bellies are still full,” Tall Shadow pointed out. “There’s no sense in catching prey we can’t eat.”

Moon Shadow nodded, letting out a groan. “I don’t think I’ll be able to face another mouse!”

In the end, all the cats settled down among the long grass and nettles and fell into a doze. When Gray Wing awoke, the sky was still covered in clouds, and a thin drizzle was falling, though the wind had dropped. He guessed it was just after sunhigh.

As he rose to his paws and stretched, Gray Wing noticed that Clear Sky was walking away from the den.

“Are you going somewhere?” Gray Wing asked, running to catch up. “Is everything okay?”

Clear Sky gave him a long look. “I just wanted to stretch my legs,” he replied. “I’m fine on my own, thanks.”

Gray Wing watched Clear Sky pad away, feeling as if he had been struck in the belly.
I’d rather he raged at me for letting Bright Stream die
, he thought. The cold politeness was far worse to bear, because it made him feel like a stranger to his own brother.

His tail drooping, Gray Wing padded back to the long grass.

Turtle Tail was waiting for him. “Let him grieve,” she whispered, brushing her tail along Gray Wing’s flank. “Everything will be all right in the end.”

Gray Wing wished he could believe her.

In the days that followed, Gray Wing began to believe that their encounter with the sheep had been a sign that the next stage of their journey was going to be even more difficult. The rain never stopped, and their only guide was a few glimpses of the sharp stones now and then through the mist.

How can we find our new home if we can’t see the sun trail?
Gray Wing wondered.

Prey grew scarcer, the small animals and birds sheltering from the rain. Hawk Swoop quickly recovered, but as the cats crossed a barrier between two stretches of grass, Tall Shadow scratched one of her pads on a sharp, shiny tendril hidden among the stems.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, even though she was limping badly.

Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots foraged for herbs, but Dappled Pelt looked doubtfully at everything they found. “I don’t want to give any cat something that will make them sick,” she meowed. “I’ve never seen most of these leaves before.”

As the days went by, even Jagged Peak lost his liveliness. Gray Wing could understand: He was the youngest and smallest, with the shortest legs, and yet he had to keep up with the others.

“I’m fed up with this rain,” he complained as he trudged through wet grass that soaked his pelt. “And I’m
hungry
!”

“We’ll find prey when we get where we’re going.” Falling Feather comforted him.

“We don’t
know
where we’re going,” Jagged Peak whined.

“Then maybe you should have stayed at home where you belonged,” Clear Sky snapped brusquely.

Jagged Peak flinched at his brother’s rebuke, looking so miserable that Gray Wing had to sympathize. “Every cat is grumpy,” he whispered to Jagged Peak, brushing against his side reassuringly.

A stretch of woodland loomed up in front of the cats, and as they entered it Jagged Peak went on muttering. As he walked with Gray Wing at the back of the group, he began twitching his ears or his tail and stopping to glance around.

“Why are you fidgeting?” Gray Wing asked irritably.

“I think we’re being watched,” Jagged Peak replied.

Gray Wing suppressed a sharp response. “It’s probably a piece of prey that doesn’t want to be caught,” he suggested.

Jagged Peak flicked his tail, but said nothing. A few paw steps later he stopped dead. “What was that?” he asked, his ears quivering.

“A falling twig!” Gray Wing answered, flicking his tail in exasperation. “Now come on! We’re lagging behind the others.”

Jagged Peak stayed as still as if his paws were rooted to the ground. His eyes narrowed and his face screwed up in a mutinous expression. “We’re being followed,” he meowed.

“No, we’re not!” Gray Wing looked around, determined to prove that his brother was wrong. “Oh . . .” he added, feeling stupid, as a long-legged brown-and-gray tabby stepped out of the clump of bracken they had just passed.

“See?” Jagged Peak snapped.

Gray Wing and the stranger stared at each other for a moment.

“You’re not from these parts, are you?” the stranger asked eventually.

“No,” Jagged Peak piped up, stepping forward to examine the stranger, round-eyed. “We come from far away! From the mountains!”

The stranger looked surprised. “You mean Highstones?” He nodded in the direction of the sharp peaks the cats were heading for, though they weren’t visible through the trees.

“No,” Gray Wing replied. “We—”

He broke off as the other cats reappeared, with Clear Sky in the lead. “What’s going on?” Clear Sky asked.

“Wow, there are a lot of you,” the stranger mewed, though he didn’t seem daunted by their numbers.

“We’re just travelers, passing through,” Shaded Moss told him.

“Oh,” the stranger responded, “I thought you were the cats who live on the other side of Highstones.”

“That’s those pointed stones up ahead,” Gray Wing explained.

“Are there cats who live there already?” Cloud Spots asked, shouldering his way forward.