a sheer wall of rock that stretched as far as they could see in both directions.
Jagged Peak gazed upward in dismay. “Now what do we do?”
Gray Wing studied the rock face carefully, realizing that it wasn’t as sheer as he had first thought. There were ledges, even if they were only as wide as a claw-scratch, and crevices where clumps of grass had rooted themselves.
“I think we can climb it,” he mewed.
Jagged Peak’s eyes widened. “Are you fuzz-brained? I’m not climbing that !”
Gray Wing shrugged. “Okay, we go home.”
Jagged Peak hesitated for a moment; then, without another word, leaped onto the rock face, and started clawing his way upward. Gray Wing watched, ready to break his fall. Grit and scraps of grass showered down on Gray Wing’s head, but at last Jagged Peak reached the top.
Gray Wing began to climb, digging his claws into the cracks and scrabbling strongly with his hind paws. He winced as sharp pain stabbed up his leg from his injured paw. There was one heart-stopping moment when he slipped, but he forced himself upward with all the strength in his legs until he stood beside Jagged Peak on the slope above the cliff.
From here, Gray Wing could see a clear track zigzagging in the direction of the ledge they were making for. “Come on,” he meowed as he headed off, setting a brisk pace.
He assumed that Jagged Peak was following him until he heard a plaintive, “Hey, Gray Wing!” from some way behind. He looked back to see his brother plodding to catch up.
“We haven’t got all day for you to dawdle,” he commented.
“I’m not dawdling!” Jagged Peak protested indignantly. “My legs are shorter than yours.”
Gray Wing realized that his brother was right: Not only did Jagged Peak have shorter legs, but his muscles were soft from living in the cave all his life. “Okay, I’ll slow down,” he sighed, picturing the other cats drawing farther and farther ahead.
Trying to match his brother’s pace, Gray Wing felt impatience rising inside him. When they reached a large rock blocking the track, he grabbed Jagged Peak unceremoniously by the scruff and hauled him over the obstacle.
Jagged Peak twitched his whiskers as Gray Wing set him down. “I could have gotten over that by myself!”
We wouldn’t have to do this at all if it wasn’t for you! Gray Wing bit back the words he wanted to say.
Jagged Peak stalked up the track, his tail high in the air. As he followed, Gray Wing noticed that the first flakes of snow were beginning to fall. He quickened his pace until he was padding beside Jagged Peak again.
“We must find shelter,” he meowed. “Let’s try that boulder up there.”
The place he pointed out was only a few tail-lengths away, but by the time he and Jagged Peak reached it the snow was already falling heavily, and the wind was blustering around the rocks, making Gray Wing afraid that his lighter brother would be blown off his paws.
He shoved Jagged Peak into the narrow gap between the boulder and the mountainside, and scrambled in after him tail-first. Gazing out of the cleft, he saw that everything had been blotted out by a screen of driving snow.
“We’re never going to find the others,” Jagged Peak muttered fearfully, peering out over his brother’s shoulder. “We might even freeze to death!”
“We won’t,” Gray Wing assured him, his irritation vanishing. “And the others won’t get too far ahead in this weather.”
He hoped he was right.
Jagged Peak curled up and closed his eyes; shortly afterward, his light snores told Gray Wing that he was asleep. Gray Wing finally dozed off, dreaming he was pursuing the other cats over endless mountain peaks, sometimes picking up a scent-trace but never managing to catch them. He jerked awake when Jagged Peak prodded him in the side.
“Look!” his brother exclaimed. “The snow has stopped!”
Gray Wing blinked in the dazzling light. The sky had cleared and the sun shone down on the fresh, untouched