Sign Of The Moon

“Oops!” Dovewing exchanged a guilty glance with Foxleap. She poked her head out through the branches to see Squirrelflight standing a couple of tail-lengths away, her tail-tip twitching. “Sorry.”

Squirrelflight rolled her eyes. “There’s a long way to go,” she meowed, not sounding as angry as Dovewing had expected. “You need to save your energy. We’re going to hunt now and then rest.”

“But I’m not sleepy!” Foxleap protested, popping his head out of the willow screen beside Dovewing. “I could run forever.”

Squirrelflight just heaved a long sigh and stalked away. Cautiously Dovewing extended her senses until she found a vole scuffling under the bank of the stream she had just crossed. Setting her paws down as light as leaves falling, she crept up on it. It has no idea that I’m here, she thought. I guess the prey in these woods aren’t used to cats hunting.

Reaching the edge of the stream, she pounced and straightened up with the vole in her jaws. Glancing around, she spotted Jayfeather sitting on the bank a little farther upstream. “Here,” she meowed, padding over and dropping the vole at his paws. “I can easily catch more.”

“Thanks. And we need to talk.”

Dovewing nodded, then remembered that Jayfeather couldn’t see her. “Okay. Just wait for me to find some more prey.”

Within a few heartbeats she had located a thrush pecking at the ground near the foot of a beech tree. This was a harder bit of stalking than the vole, she reflected as she slid across the forest floor, alert for any twitching grass or crackling leaf that might betray her presence. She leaped on the thrush from a fox-length away, slamming both her forepaws down on it and snapping its neck.

When she returned to Jayfeather, she spotted Squirrelflight and Foxleap sharing a squirrel nearby. Dovewing padded past them and sat beside Jayfeather, taking a hungry bite of her fresh-kill. “What do you want to say?” she mumbled with her mouth full.

Jayfeather was eating the vole with quick, neat bites. He swallowed before replying. “You need to cast your senses ahead and find the mountain cats as soon as you can.”

“I know.” Irritation swelled up inside Dovewing, and she had to stop her tail from twitching. “Give me a chance, Jayfeather. I need time to get used to being out here.”

Jayfeather grunted. “Don’t take too long.”

Annoying furball, Dovewing thought as she finished her thrush and curled up for a nap. Then she reminded herself that all the weight of this expedition lay on Jayfeather’s skinny shoulders; it wasn’t surprising that he was getting impatient. I’ll do my best, she promised silently.

Sending out her senses again, she explored the woodland: Small creatures were scuffling in the grass; a couple of foxes were asleep in their den. Let’s hope they stay asleep. Farther into the woodland the stream grew wider, and by the time it reached the other side there were pools deep enough for fish.

It’s good here. I wish Ivypool were with me, she thought drowsily as she sank into sleep.

Heartbeats later, it seemed, Squirrelflight was poking a paw into her side. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

Dovewing staggered to her paws and blinked sleep out of her eyes. Though the sky was cloudy, she guessed it was just past sunhigh. Foxleap was arching his back in a long stretch while Jayfeather waited, impatiently tearing at the grass with his claws.

Following the stream, Squirrelflight led the way to the other side of the wood. The trees ended in an untidy border of bramble and hazel bushes. Beyond them stretched a dusty slope leading into a valley. Dovewing spotted Twoleg nests in the distance, and made sure that her senses were closed down so she didn’t pick up any of the Twoleg racket. On the other side of the valley were more hills covered in trees. Above them, gray peaks rose into the sky. At first Dovewing thought that she was looking at some sort of weird clouds, until Squirrelflight pointed at them with her tail.

“There. The mountains.”

“That’s where we’re going?” Foxleap’s tone was a mixture of excitement and apprehension. “They’re huge!”

And we have to climb them? Dovewing didn’t speak—she didn’t want Squirrelflight thinking she was scared again—but she suddenly felt very small and insignificant.

“Last time we came, we spent the night here,” Squirrelflight meowed with a glance at the sky. “But I think we can go on a bit longer.” She led the way down the slope and into the valley. A few horses were cropping the sparse grass; they were smaller than the ones Dovewing had seen at the horseplace, and their pelts were shaggier. They stood under a tree, their tails swinging as they watched the cats with curious eyes. But to Dovewing’s relief none of them came closer.

Just beyond the horses was a single Twoleg nest, surrounded by a wall of gray stone. As the patrol padded past, a furious hiss came from the top of the wall above their heads. Dovewing looked up to see a fat ginger kittypet, its back arched and its fur bristling.

“Get out of here!” it snarled. “This is my place!”