The Silent Thaw

Rootpaw hesitated. His father’s skills would be strange. “I’m not sure Dewspring wants me learning new skills somewhere else.”

“Nonsense.” Tree swished his tail. “You can’t have too many skills.” He glanced at the pile of horsetail stems Rootpaw had gathered. “If you can learn how to gather herbs, you can learn a few of my hunting tricks.”

Rootpaw’s tail drooped.

“Can I take him away?” Tree asked Fidgetflake.

“Of course.” Fidgetflake dipped his head to Rootpaw. “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” Rootpaw followed his father as Tree led the way across the meadow to an alder grove. Perhaps it was better to leave the medicine cat in peace. If he asked any more questions, Fidgetflake might start to get suspicious.

Tree padded among the pale trunks and stopped. “Have I shown you how to be a bush?”

“‘Be a bush’?” Rootpaw stared at his father. He loved him very much, but did he have to be weird about everything?

“If you’re a bush, prey doesn’t know you’re there,” Tree told him.

“But I’m a cat.” Rootpaw blinked at him, confused.

“You can pretend

to be a bush.” Tree crouched and rolled, one way, then the other, until his fur was flecked with leaf litter. He got to his paws. “The first thing you have to do is smell like a bush.” He nodded toward the patch he’d rolled in. “Try it.”

Reluctantly, Rootpaw rolled in the leaf litter until he could feel his fur itching with it. He got to his paws, resisting the urge to shake his pelt out.

“We need to find a shady place where we can hide.” Tree led Rootpaw between the trees until they reached a spot where a sprawling bramble spilled between the alders. He crouched beside it, hunching down in its shadow. “Now we just sit quietly until the prey comes,” he whispered.

Rootpaw ducked and squeezed in beside him. “Wouldn’t it be quicker to find a prey trail and track it?”

“Sometimes it’s better to let prey come to you.” Tree’s litter-specked pelt brushed Rootpaw’s as he shifted to get more comfortable. “Warriors insist on making everything harder than it should be.”

Rootpaw bristled. Why did Tree have to criticize Clan cats all the time? “They just want to be the best warriors they can be. Is there something wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” Tree purred. “But it’s nice just to sit around with another cat while you’re pretending to be a bush.” He glanced at Rootpaw. “It’s a good excuse to talk.”

Does he know something? Rootpaw wondered, dread tingling in his belly. Is that why Tree brought me here? To talk? He glanced suspiciously at his father. “What about?”

“Leaving the Clans.”

Alarm pricked in Rootpaw’s pelt. “But . . . I’m about to become a warrior,” he mewed. “I’ve been training for moons.” Tree had talked about leaving the forest after the last Gathering when Bramblestar had suggested that cats should start accusing one another of crimes that could get them expelled. He’d been worried that it was the sort of rule Darktail would have made. Rootpaw had heard all about Darktail and the Kin and how they had taken over ShadowClan first, then the other Clans, and killed and starved any warrior who’d stood in their way. Tree had said that it would be safer to live as rogues than to live with Clans who behaved like rogues.

Tree gazed thoughtfully into the distance. “I’m not saying we have to leave now. But this Gathering wasn’t any better than the last one. I don’t think Bramblestar is going to let go of this codebreaking issue any time soon. The Clans are changing, and I think that you, Needlepaw, Violetshine, and I need to be prepared to walk our own path if we have to.”

Rootpaw frowned. Bramblestar’s ghost would leave him alone if he left the Clan. That would be good. But was it worth becoming a rogue? “I think we should stick it out. Isn’t that what being a warrior is all about?”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure staying would be good for any of us.” Tree glanced at Rootpaw anxiously. “Why did you run away after the Gathering? It’s not like you.”

Rootpaw felt hot. “I saw something that startled me, that’s all.”

“What startled you?” Tree’s gaze darkened.

“It doesn’t matter.” Rootpaw wished his father would stop questioning him. What could he say? That he’d seen a ghost? What if Tree was proud that he shared the same weirdness?

Tree shifted beside him. “If there’s anything you’re worried about, you can always talk to me,” he mewed softly.