Fire And Ice

Fireheart slid down the bank, raced across the ice, and skidded to a halt beside her. Without a word he reached forward and took hold of Graystripe in his teeth. Together the two cats heaved his soaking body out of the water and dragged him to the safety of the riverbank.

Fireheart bent over his friend to see if he was breathing. He felt dizzy with relief as he saw Graystripe’s slick gray flank rising and falling. Graystripe coughed and spluttered and spat out a mouthful of river water. Then he lay still.

“Graystripe!” Fireheart meowed urgently.

“I’m okay,” wheezed Graystripe. His mew was breathless, but reassuring.

Fireheart sighed and sat down. He looked closely at the silver tabby. She carried the scent of RiverClan on her. After seeing her swim, Fireheart wasn’t surprised. The tabby returned his gaze coldly, shook herself, and sat down, her sides heaving as she got her breath back. Water streamed from her glossy fur as if her pelt were made from duck feathers.

Graystripe turned his head and looked at his rescuer. “Thanks,” he croaked.

“You idiot!” she spat, flattening her ears. “What are you doing in my territory?”

“Drowning?” replied Graystripe.

The silver tabby flicked her ears, and Fireheart saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Can’t you drown yourself in your own territory?”

Graystripe’s whiskers twitched. “Ah, but who would rescue me there?” he rasped.

There was a tiny mew behind Fireheart. He turned to see Cinderpaw crouching by a clump of grass farther up the bank. “Where’s Brackenpaw?” he asked.

“Just coming,” answered Cinderpaw, pointing with her nose. Her brother was creeping nervously along the bank toward them.

Fireheart sighed and turned to his friend. “Look, Graystripe, we’ve got to get out of here.”

“I know.” Graystripe pushed himself to his paws and turned to the silver tabby. “Thanks again.”

She dipped her head graciously, but hissed, “Hurry, go now!” She looked over her shoulder. “If my father knew that I’d rescued a ThunderClan intruder he’d shred me for kit bedding!”

“Why’d you save me then?” teased Graystripe.

The tabby looked away. “Instinct. I couldn’t watch any cat drown. Now go away!”

Fireheart stood up. “Thanks. I’d have missed this furball if he’d drowned.” He nudged Graystripe. His friend hadn’t even shaken the icy water from his fur and he was soaked to the skin. “Come on, let’s get back to camp. You’re freezing!”

“Okay, I’m coming!” Graystripe meowed. But before he followed Fireheart up the slope, he turned back to the silver she-cat. “What’s your name? Mine’s Graystripe.”

“Silverstream,” she replied, and bounded away, back onto the ice and over the channel of water to the far side.

Fireheart and Graystripe led their apprentices through the bracken, toward the border. Fireheart couldn’t help noticing that Graystripe looked back over his shoulder more than once.

Cinderpaw noticed too. The little gray cat glanced up, mischief dancing in her eyes. “What a pretty RiverClan cat she was!”

Graystripe gave her a playful cuff around the ear and she ran on ahead.

“Stay with us,” Fireheart warned in a loud hiss. They were still in RiverClan territory. He flashed Cinderpaw an angry look as she stopped and waited for them. If it weren’t for her, they wouldn’t be here at all, and Graystripe wouldn’t have nearly drowned. He looked at his wet friend. Even though the gray warrior had shaken as much of the water from his fur as he could, his coat was still dripping and ice was beginning to form on the ends of his whiskers.

Fireheart quickened the pace. “Are you okay?” he asked Graystripe.

“F-f-fine!” replied Graystripe, through chattering teeth.

“Sorry,” mewed Cinderpaw softly as she fell into step behind Fireheart.

He sighed. “It’s not your fault.” He felt weighed down with worry. How were they going to explain this to the Clan? No fresh-kill for the elders—there wasn’t time to go back for the vole now—and a soaked Graystripe. Fireheart shuddered as he thought how close he had come to losing his closest friend. Thank StarClan that Silverstream had been there to save him.

“The stream near the training hollow is still running with water,” Brackenpaw meowed thoughtfully from the back.

“What?” asked Fireheart, puzzled out of his gloomy thoughts.

“The Clan will probably assume that Graystripe fell in there,” continued the young apprentice.

“We could say he was showing us how to catch fish,” Cinderpaw added.

“I’m not sure any cat would believe Graystripe would get his paws wet on purpose in this weather,” Fireheart pointed out.

“Well, I don’t want the rest of the Clan to know I had to be rescued by a RiverClan cat!” meowed Graystripe with a flash of his old spirit. “And we can’t let them know we were in RiverClan’s territory again.”

Fireheart nodded. “Come on,” he meowed. “Let’s run the rest of the way; it’ll help Graystripe warm up.”

The cats raced across the RiverClan border and past Sunningrocks. As the sun began to dip behind the treetops, they arrived back outside the camp.