A Warrior's Spirit

by Erin Hunter

  Oh, yes. He was supposed to try to become one with the grass. Shutting his eyes tightly, Tree listened hard. If he could just do it right, he would hear the grass, the leaves, the trees, all speaking to him. Straining his ears, he held his breath, listening. Nothing. What was wrong with him, that he couldn’t do it?

  He heard the soft crunch of a dry leaf under a paw and opened his eyes. Root had come out of the bracken and was watching him. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

  Tree felt hot with embarrassment. He hesitated uncomfortably, shifting his paws. “I’m . . . trying to talk to the grass,” he mewed quietly. “As a tom, I’m supposed to be able to, and I never have.”

  Root came over and sat down next to him. “Does the grass really have a lot to say?” he asked. He wasn’t laughing, but his whiskers twitched.

  Tree glared at him. “Toms are the guardians of the land,” he told him. “How am I supposed to do what I need to, if I can’t even speak to the world around me?” He dropped his head onto his paws. “I keep failing.”

  Root hesitated for a heartbeat, then brushed his tail gently over Tree’s back. “Look,” he mewed, his eyes warm with sympathy. “Not every cat believes what the Sisters believe. A tom doesn’t have to look after the world. The world will keep on going.”

  “Moonlight told us—” Tree began.

  “You don’t live with Moonlight and the Sisters anymore,” Root interrupted. “You don’t have to live by their rules. You’ve changed your name, and you don’t have to keep anything else they gave you either, unless you want to. Be who you want to be.”

  Who I want to be? Who is that cat? Tree didn’t know, but he felt a little lighter. Maybe not wanting to wander and care for the land was okay. The Sisters had made him leave, but maybe he could choose to leave, too.

  The idea was amazing . . . but very lonely.

  “I wanted to try again to speak to the land,” he told Root, “because I’ll need some cat to talk to.” Root looked puzzled, and Tree hurried to explain, his words falling over one another in a rush. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” he said. “If you hadn’t let me stay with you, I’d probably be dead by now, or I would’ve given up and become some Twopaw’s everkit. I haven’t forgotten that you’re a loner and that I can’t just stay with you forever. Even a couple of moons has been great. But I know it has to end.”

  Root cocked one of his hind legs to scratch at his ear. “Um,” he began slowly, looking up at the sky. “You’re a good hunter now, but I still have a lot to teach you. You’ll need to know how to set up a territory for yourself. Maybe we should stay together a little longer.”

  Confused, Tree opened his mouth to object—he’d lived in enough different territories with the Sisters that he was sure he could manage—and then closed it again. There was an embarrassed gleam in Root’s eye.

  He doesn’t want me to go, Tree realized. He’d miss me, too. Maybe Root wasn’t as much of a loner as he’d thought he was.

  Warmth filled Tree’s chest, and he blinked at his father affectionately. Root’s right, he thought. I can be any cat I want to be now. And maybe who I want to be is Root’s kin.

  “I thought you just wanted the prey to come to you,” Tree meowed a few days later, following Root through the forest.

  Root flicked his tail dismissively. “That’s fine when you’re hunting mice,” he answered. “But I’ve got a taste for rabbit today, and rabbits are a two-cat job.”

  Tree waved his tail happily as they walked. There was a touch of chill in the air, but there were still a couple of moons to go before icetime really arrived. Prey would be tasty, still fat from the warmer weather. Tree’s mouth watered at the thought of rabbit.

  “Look,” Root pointed out softly. They had come to the edge of a sunny clearing, where two rabbits nibbled at long stalks of grass, periodically rising up on their hind legs to check for predators.

  “One for each of us,” Tree breathed, but Root shook his head.

  “If we go after both, we won’t catch either. Let’s go for the big one. Circle around and drive it toward me.”

  Tree dipped his head in acknowledgment and began to work his way silently around the edge of the clearing, a careful eye on the rabbits. The smaller one suddenly lifted its head high, ears twitching, and he froze as it sniffed the air. When it finally began to eat again, Tree headed straight toward the rabbits, crouching so low that his belly almost brushed the ground and he was completely hidden by the long grass.

  It wasn’t until he had almost reached the rabbits that they suddenly stiffened. With thumps of their big back paws, they took off, zigging away from each other, and Tree saw that Root had been right. If he hadn’t already been sure which to chase, he would have lost both. Instead he launched himself after the larger one, a fat brown one with a white tail, leaping almost on its heels, driving it toward where he knew Root was crouched.

  The rabbit was faster than he was, but it didn’t matter: it had only pulled a few strides away when Root charged out of the grass ahead and brought it down. With a quick bite to its throat, the rabbit went still.

  “Good work, Tree!” Root called happily, looking up with the rabbit’s blood still spattered across his chest.

  “Same to you,” meowed Tree. The rabbit looked delicious. “Do you want to eat here or take it back to the tree?”

  “I’d feel safer on our own territory,” Root answered. “Here, help me carry it.”

  Carrying the rabbit between them, the two cats set off back into the forest. Tree enjoyed the weight of the prey in his mouth and its warm, fresh smell. His stomach rumbled, and he dropped the rabbit to say, “I’m starving. Maybe we should just eat it here.”

  Root dropped his end of the rabbit, too, and began to say something, purring with laughter, when he suddenly paused and sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

  Tree tasted the air, too, trying to smell something above the insistent scent of rabbit. There was something. Something meaty and rank that made his pelt prickle. “What is it?” he asked.

  “A fox. We’d better hurry,” Root told him. He began to bend to pick up the rabbit again, then straightened, the fur along his spine rising. Tree followed his gaze just in time to see a thin red creature slink out of the woods and lope toward them, its teeth bared.

  “Run!” Root yowled, but Tree snarled and pressed his side against his father’s. He wasn’t going to abandon Root.

  And then the fox was upon them. Its teeth were sharper than a dog’s, and it snapped at Tree as he dodged, its bite grazing his shoulder painfully. But Root had taught him how to fight. He dropped to the ground and slid beneath the fox, clawing at its belly, while Root leaped to one side, slashing the fox’s shoulder with his claws as he went.

  They fought together, Root attacking the fox’s hindquarters while Tree jabbed at its nose, Tree sinking his teeth into the fox’s leg while Root swiped at its side.

  We’re winning, Tree thought, feeling both jubilant and terrified, as the fox gave a strange high-pitched howl and twisted toward him. Tree dodged again, but his paw slipped in a muddy pile of leaves and he fell, his side hitting the ground hard, knocking the breath out of him.

  I have to move, he realized, but he was frozen. All he could see was a flash of teeth as the fox came for him. Everything seemed to slow down, and Tree couldn’t move. Just like when the rogues attacked, he thought dazedly, remembering Hawk.

  And then there was a flash of yellow fur. Root threw himself between Tree and the fox’s teeth, and everything sped up again. “Root!” Tree yowled. He scrambled to his paws just as Root snarled and sliced his claws across the fox’s eyes. With a yelp of pain, the fox scrambled backward, then turned tail and ran.

  “That was amazing!” Tree exclaimed breathlessly. He turned to Root, but Root was swaying on his paws, his eyes glassy. Just as he fell, Tree realized blood was streaming down the other cat’s side.

  “Root!” Tree gasped and hurried to him, nosing through his yellow fur to
find the wound. There was a deep bite on his side, dark red blood gushing from it and pooling onto the ground beneath him.

  After a terrified moment of silence, Tree started to think again. “Moonlight taught me how to bind wounds,” he meowed quickly. “I’ll get cobwebs to help the bleeding, and, um”—his head was spinning as he tried to remember—“comfrey will help soothe the injury.” He started to get up, but before he could go, Root laid his tail across Tree’s back.

  “Don’t go,” he breathed weakly. “It won’t do any good. I’m dying, and I don’t want to be alone.” He looked up at Tree, his gaze unfocused. “I want my son with me when I die. Please.”

  “Of course I’ll stay,” Tree meowed, and lay beside his father, his heart aching. Root was right: no cobweb could stop this rapid stream of blood. It ran across the ground and coated Tree’s fur, too, quickly growing cold and sticky. Tree licked at Root’s shoulder and back, trying to clean his father’s fur. “I’m sorry,” he added. “You had to save me again. I wish—I should have been a better fighter. Braver, like you. I wish we had known each other longer. Always.”

  Root’s tail brushed over Tree’s back again, comfortingly. He looked into Tree’s eyes and tried to speak, but his mouth was full of blood. It ran down across his chin and over his chest, mixing with the rabbit’s. His body spasmed once, and then again, and then he was still.

  “Root?” Tree asked softly. But his father’s eyes had closed, and Tree knew that he was dead.

  Tree pressed his face against Root’s fur. A wave of guilt and horror passed over him. My fault.

  He lay there for a long time, his face against Root’s cooling fur. Gradually, he became aware that it was growing cold and dark around them, that night had come.

  The sun rose before he began to think again.

  He had loved his father, and his father had loved him. But in the end, it had hurt them both.

  Never again.

  Root had been right: it was better not to count on any cat. Tree had learned his lesson. Maybe this was the lesson that Moonlight and the Sisters had meant to teach him all along.

  I should wander alone.

  Chapter 9

  A warm breeze blew through Tree’s fur as he crouched on the side of the silver boulder, gazing at the Twopaw trash inside. Spotting something tasty, he reached in and hooked the remains of a piece of Twopaw food with one claw. Chicken, he thought, sniffing. His mouth watered at its smell and his belly rumbled.

  He jerked up his head as he caught another scent on the wind, above the heavy smells of the Twopaw trash, and Tree tensed. A strange cat. Since Root’s death eight moons before, Tree had barely spoken to any other cats, except for being snarled at and driven off claimed territory a few times. Gripping the chicken tightly in his mouth, he let himself drop into the space between the silver boulder and the Twopaw nest behind it. With any luck, the other cat wouldn’t even realize Tree was there.

  Tree heard the padding of soft paws and then a stern meow. “I know you’re there. Come out where I can see you.”

  Adjusting his grip on the chicken with a sigh, Tree sidled out from his hiding spot. Staying there would only leave him cornered.

  There was a brown-speckled white she-cat standing between the boulders, watching him warily. Her sides were round with kits: from his time with the Sisters, Tree could guess that she was maybe half a moon from giving birth.

  He wasn’t afraid of a pregnant cat, but he knew she might have a mate or kin nearby, so he dropped the chicken and spoke respectfully. “Is this your territory? I’m only passing through. You can have the food if you want it.”

  The she-cat’s whiskers went back in disgust. “I don’t eat Twoleg trash,” she said scathingly. “I’m a warrior. I can hunt my own food.”

  Tree shrugged, wondering what a warrior was. “Feel free,” he told her. He hopped back up onto the silver boulder and watched with interest as the she-cat began to prowl around, scenting the air, her ears cocked for the sound of prey. After a little while, she stiffened, then dashed with surprising speed into a nearby tangle of bits and pieces from dead monsters. Tree leaned forward to watch.

  A moment later, she popped out from behind a round black monster foot, a rat dangling from her mouth.

  “That was amazing,” Tree told her sincerely. “You’re so fast, even carrying kits.”

  The she-cat’s tail twitched with pride. “Thanks,” she meowed, dropping the rat. After a moment, she offered, “Do you want to share it with me?”

  Tree hesitated for a heartbeat. A fresh rat would taste good, better than the discarded Twopaw food. But the she-cat looked too thin, despite her rounded sides. “No,” he told her. “Keep the rat. But do you want to eat together? I’d be glad to have some company.”

  The she-cat shrugged and sat, the rat in front of her. Tree leaped down from the silver boulder, carrying the chicken, and settled beside her. “I’m Tree,” he meowed.

  “My name’s Pebbleshine,” the she-cat told him, taking a bite of her prey. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Pebbleshine?” Tree asked curiously. “That’s a strange name. Pretty, though,” he added.

  Pebbleshine raised her chin proudly. “All SkyClan warriors have names like that. We change them as we get older: I was Pebblekit when I was born, and then Pebblepaw when my mentor trained me. Our leader, Leafstar, gave me the name Pebbleshine when I was ready to become a full warrior.”

  Tree shifted uneasily. Had Leafstar been like Moonlight? Was that why Pebbleshine was here on her own when she was expecting kits? Maybe this SkyClan cast out she-cats and kept toms. “And that’s when you had to leave?”

  “What? No!” Pebbleshine meowed. “I was traveling with my Clan, and we got separated. I’d never leave them on purpose.”

  “Oh.” Tree felt relieved that Pebbleshine wasn’t on her own. Kits were a big responsibility. “What happened?”

  Pebbleshine grimaced. “I climbed into the back of a monster after prey. And the monster took me. I got away, but now I’m far from SkyClan, and I need to find them again.”

  Tree blinked. She climbed into a monster? He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he had a more pressing question. “What’s SkyClan?”

  “We’re a Clan of warriors,” Pebbleshine explained. “We take care of one another, and we follow the code StarClan gave us.” She sighed. “We had to leave our territory, and we’ve been traveling to find a new one. The monster took me a long way, I think.”

  “So, you’re a warrior?” Tree asked, trying to understand.

  “Of course,” Pebbleshine said. “And my kits will be SkyClan warriors, too.” She hesitated, looking at him a little suspiciously. “Are you a rogue?”

  Am I? Tree wondered. He thought of the pair of rogues who had attacked when he and Hawk were hunting, back with the Sisters. He wasn’t like that—he wouldn’t harm another cat unless he had to. “No,” he decided. “I’m just a loner, I guess.”

  Pebbleshine settled herself more comfortably. “I didn’t think you seemed like a rogue,” she meowed, and Tree felt a little warmer under her approval. He took another bite of chicken, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She looked very close to having her kits, he thought. If she was going to find her way back to her Clan before the kits were born, she would have to hurry.

  “How are you going to find them?” he asked. “You said they were traveling when you got taken by the monster. So you don’t know where they are, and they don’t know where you are.” He hesitated. “I hate to say it, but I doubt you’re going to find them, at least not before your kits are born.”

  Pebbleshine lifted her chin stubbornly. “StarClan will help me find my Clan again, and my mate, Hawkwing. My kits are special, I can feel it. SkyClan needs them.” Her eyes were shining. “They have a destiny. They belong in the Clan.”

  Something in her eyes reminded Tree of Moonlight, how sure she was when she talked about the Sisters’ duty to speak to the stars, and toms’ duty to guard the land. “If you fin
d your Clan again, will the kits get to live there always?” he asked warily. “No matter what? Whether they’re toms or she-cats, or even if they can’t do everything a warrior is supposed to do?”

  “Of course,” Pebbleshine told him, surprised. “SkyClan would never drive out their warriors. We belong there. That’s why I have to get back to them.”

  She was so sure. Tree felt warm with admiration. “I think you’ll be a really good mother,” he meowed, and her whiskers twitched with pleasure at the compliment.

  Something was still bothering Tree. “I understand you want to get back there,” he began. “But if you have a long way to travel before you find them, it’ll be dangerous, especially since you’re expecting kits. Maybe you should wait. Sometimes it’s better to accept what’s happened to you and just get on with living your life, even if it’s not what you wanted.” He stared down at his paws, hoping that Pebbleshine wouldn’t be offended.

  “That isn’t how it is in a Clan,” Pebbleshine told him firmly, and Tree looked up again. She didn’t look offended, but she did look determined. “Hawkwing and the rest of SkyClan aren’t going to stop looking for me. So I can’t stop looking for them, either.” She glanced up at Tree with a little shrug. “Eventually we’ll find each other. It’s the only way I want to live, especially now that I’ve seen what life is like as a loner.”

  Tree nodded. She was right: life as a loner was difficult, and not for every cat. “It’ll be a hard wander,” he told her. “I hope you find them.” Looking back on his time with the Sisters, and how that had ended, and then Root’s death, Tree couldn’t help wondering if he’d always been fated to be a loner. The idea made him feel lonely and sad, even though Pebbleshine was right beside him.

  Pebbleshine was staring at him. When he caught her eye, she bent her head and licked at her chest fur, embarrassed. “You know,” she began after a moment, “you’re right that it’ll be hard. Maybe you’d want to come with me?” Tree’s face must have shown his confusion, because she went on. “It doesn’t seem like you have anything keeping you here. This isn’t your territory or anything. If you helped me find SkyClan, I’m sure Leafstar would let you join us.”