Fire And Ice

Fireheart looked hastily down at Cinderpaw, who was staring at him with undisguised pride. Fireheart’s fur suddenly began to prickle. He wanted to be a great warrior and a good mentor more than anything else, but it seemed painfully clear that Tigerclaw was just waiting for him to fail.

Chapter 9

Fireheart woke to find Graystripe sitting beside him, hunched on his belly like a rabbit, his shoulders stiff and his fur fluffed out. “Graystripe?” he meowed quietly.

Graystripe jumped.

“Are you okay?”

Graystripe sat up straight. “I’m fine.” Fireheart suspected that his friend’s cheery mew wasn’t heartfelt, but at least he was trying to be more positive.

“It looks cold,” Fireheart meowed. Graystripe’s words had billowed out in clouds. Fireheart was still snuggled down among the warm bodies of the other warriors.

“It is!” Graystripe bent to lick his chest.

Fireheart sat up and shook his head. The air tasted of frost. “What are you going to do with Brackenpaw today?” he asked.

“Show him the forest,” answered Graystripe.

“I could bring Cinderpaw, and we could travel together.”

“It might be better if we travel alone today,” answered Graystripe.

Fireheart felt a bit hurt. They had been shown ThunderClan’s hunting grounds together as apprentices. He would have liked to do it together again as mentors. But if Graystripe wanted to be by himself, then Fireheart could hardly blame him. “Fine,” he mewed. “I’ll see you later. We can share a mouse and compare apprentices.”

“That’d be good,” Graystripe meowed.

Fireheart crept out of the den. The air outside was even colder. His breath swirled from his muzzle like smoke. He shivered, ruffling out his fur, and stretched one leg at a time. The ground under his paws felt like stone as he trotted over to the apprentices’ den. Cinderpaw was fast asleep inside, a fluffy gray heap that rose and fell as she breathed.

“Cinderpaw,” Fireheart called quietly, and the little gray cat lifted her head at once. Fireheart backed out, and in a moment Cinderpaw bounded from the den, wide-awake and enthusiastic.

“What are we doing today?” she mewed, looking up at him with her ears pricked.

“I thought I’d take you on a tour of ThunderClan territory.”

“Will we see the Thunderpath?” asked Cinderpaw eagerly.

“Er, yes, we will,” Fireheart replied. He couldn’t help thinking Cinderpaw would be disappointed when she saw what a dirty, stinking place it was. “Are you hungry?” he asked, wondering if he should tell her to eat first.

“No!” Cinderpaw shook her head.

“Oh, okay. We’ll eat later,” Fireheart meowed. “Well, follow me.”

“Yes, Fireheart.” The young cat looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. The pang of sadness that had been lingering in Fireheart’s stomach since talking with Graystripe was swept away by a warm feeling of pride. He turned and padded toward the camp entrance.

Cinderpaw raced past him and charged through the gorse tunnel. Fireheart had to break into a run to catch up. “I thought I said follow me!” he called as she scrambled up the side of the ravine.

“But I want to see the view from the top,” Cinderpaw protested.

Fireheart leaped after her. He overtook her easily, climbed to the top, and sat washing a forepaw, keeping an eye on her as she scrambled from rock to rock. By the time she reached the top of the camp ravine she was panting, but no less enthusiastic. “Look at the trees! They look like they’re made from moonstone,” she mewed breathlessly.

She was right. The trees below them sparkled white in the sunshine. Fireheart took a deep breath of cold air. “You should try to save your energy,” he warned. “We have a long way to go today.”

“Oh, yes. Okay. Which way now?” She kneaded the ground with impatient paws, ready to dart away into the woods.

“Follow me,” meowed Fireheart. He narrowed his eyes playfully. “And this time I do mean follow!” He led the way to a trail along the edge of the ravine, into the sandy hollow where he had learned to hunt and fight.

“This is where most of our training sessions will be held,” he explained. During greenleaf, the trees that circled the clearing filtered the sunshine into a warm dappled light. Now cold daylight streamed down onto the frozen red earth.

“A river ran here many moons ago. A stream still flows beyond that rise there,” meowed Fireheart, pointing with his muzzle. “It’s dry most of the summer. That’s where I caught my first prey.”

“What did you catch?” Cinderpaw didn’t wait for an answer. “Will the stream be frozen? Let’s look and see if there’s ice!” She charged down into the hollow and headed toward the rise.

“You’ll see it another time!” Fireheart called. But Cinderpaw kept running, and Fireheart had to race after her. He stopped beside her at the top of the rise and together they looked down at the stream. Ice had formed at the edges, but the speed of the water as it slid over its sandy bed had stopped it from freezing over completely.

“You wouldn’t catch much there now,” mewed Cinderpaw. “Except fish maybe.”