Fire And Ice

Suddenly he heard a loud clatter. Fireheart looked up and saw his sister pop out through the swinging flap. The fur along his spine rippled with anticipation, and Fireheart fought to stop himself leaping down into her garden straightaway. He knew he would frighten her, as he had done yesterday. He smelled like a forest cat now, not a friendly kittypet.

Fireheart waited until his sister had reached the end of the grass; then he crept to the tip of the branch and slipped down onto the fence. Quietly he jumped into the bushes below. The she-cat’s scent brought his dream flooding back to him.

How could he get her attention without frightening her? Desperately he searched his mind, trying to think of the name his sister had been given. He could remember only his own kittypet name. Fireheart called softly from the bushes, “It’s me, Rusty!”

The she-cat stopped dead and looked around. Fireheart took a deep breath and crept out from the bushes.

The cat’s eyes widened with terror. Fireheart knew how he must appear to her—lean and wild, with the sharp forest scents on his pelt. The she-cat raised her hackles and hissed ferociously. Fireheart couldn’t help feeling impressed by her courage.

In a flash he remembered his sister’s name. “Princess! It’s me, Rusty, your brother! Do you remember me?”

Princess remained tense. Fireheart guessed she was wondering how this strange cat could know these names. He dropped into a submissive crouch, hope soaring in his chest as he watched his sister’s expression slowly change from fear to curiosity.

“Rusty?” Princess sniffed the air, wide-eyed and wary. Fireheart took a careful step forward. Princess did not move, so Fireheart edged closer. Still, his sister held her ground until Fireheart was standing only a mouse length away.

“You don’t smell like Rusty,” she mewed.

“I don’t live with Twolegs anymore. I’ve been living in the forest with ThunderClan. I carry their scent now.” She’s probably never heard of the Clans, Fireheart realized, remembering his own innocence before he’d met Graystripe in the woods.

Princess stretched her nose forward and rubbed her muzzle cautiously along his cheek. “But our mother’s smell is still there,” she murmured, half to herself. Her words filled Fireheart with happiness, until her eyes narrowed and she took a step backward, her ears flat with distrust. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“I saw you yesterday, in the woods,” Fireheart explained. “I had to come back to speak with you.”

“Why?”

Fireheart looked at her in surprise. “Because you’re my sister.” Surely she must feel something for him?

Princess studied him for a moment. To Fireheart’s relief, her guarded expression lifted. “You’re very thin,” she mewed critically.

“Thinner than a kittypet, maybe, but not thin for a Clan—a forest—cat,” Fireheart replied. “Your scent was in my dreams last night. I dreamed of you and our brothers and sister and…” Fireheart paused. “Where is our mother?”

“She’s still with her housefolk,” answered Princess.

“What about…?”

Princess guessed what he was going to ask. “…our brothers and sisters? Most of them live near here. I see them in their gardens from time to time.”

They sat silently for a moment; then Fireheart asked, “Do you remember the soft bedding of our mother’s basket?” He felt a flicker of guilt about longing for such kittypet softness, but Princess purred, “Oh, yes. I wish I could have it for my own kitting.”

Fireheart’s discomfort faded. It felt good to be able to talk of such a tender memory without shame. “Will this litter be your first?”

Princess nodded, uncertainty showing in her eyes. Fireheart felt a wave of sympathy. Even though they were the same age, she seemed to him very young and naive. “You’ll be fine,” he mewed, remembering Brindleface’s kitting. “You look as if your Twolegs treat you well. I’m sure your kits will be healthy and safe.”

Princess moved closer to him, pressing her fur against his flank. Fireheart felt his heart swell with emotion. For the first time since he was a kit, he caught a glimpse of what the Clan cats must take for granted: the closeness of kinship, a common bond determined by birth and heritage.

Suddenly Fireheart wanted his sister to know about the life he led now. “Do you know about the Clans?”

Princess gazed at him, mystified. “You mentioned a ThunderClan.”

Fireheart nodded. “There are four Clans altogether.” He went on, the words tumbling out. “In the Clan, we take care of each other. Younger cats hunt for elders, warriors protect the hunting grounds from other Clans. I trained all greenleaf to become a warrior. Now I have an apprentice of my own.” Fireheart could see by her bemused expression that his sister couldn’t understand everything he was telling her, yet her eyes brightened with pleasure as he spoke.

“It sounds as if you enjoy your life,” she mewed in awe.

A Twoleg voice called from the house. Fireheart instantly darted under the nearest bush.