Spirit's Journey

Chapter 49- Spirit: Unease

The days grew shorter and the nights colder as I found myself getting lost in my thoughts of troubling things on a daily, especially at night when I was sitting in the snow staying guard and staring into the depths silently.

Ribs were showing on every cat here.

Midnight and Aspen grew closer every day, making me feel left out on occasions.

Hannah and Fallan wouldn't even look at me.

I didn't know where I stood with Storm anymore- he wasn't a bad cat, but why was I too hesitant to let myself really talk to the tom? And when I didn't, why did I feel a twinge of regret or continuously think about it all the time?

Meanwhile, it had hit the first snow. Thinking about the tom seemed to be the least of my troubles as I squared my shoulders against any oncoming challenges that would surely show.

The stone stung my pads as I pressed down, pushing onward and up, around and under rocks and steep structures. A light layer of had snow covered everything, causing the only prey to hide in their holes and wait for the warm light of the strong Great Paw to return. Light flakes fell down down, landing on noses and ears and leaving a chill in their wake. The wind blew our whiskers this way and that, swiveling snow around and up into the dark blue-grey depths as if it couldn't decide what direction to take.

"This sucks," Fallan complained as I looked up to the dark grey mass above. Promising was more snow and cold weather, for Cold Paws had finally come.

Diamond shivered from on my back; I'd decided it was only fair for us to take turns letting the kitten burrow into our neck-fur for warmth, huddling to keep out the worst of the wind.

Midnight had begun to get too big to totter on my shoulder-blades, and stayed on the ground close to Aspen to share warmth.

There was no doubt in my mind that this Cold Paws season had come early because of the conditions we were in.

Higher up the rocky slopes, deeper snow could be seen. Just a few days ago, Fallan and Hannah had gone hunting together and come back talking about seeing it begin to fall down the slope, tumbling faster and faster until it landed in a heap just a while way's from their paws. The thought had scared me, because what if a cat would have gotten buried under all the snow? They almost surely would have frozen to death before any other cat found or dug them out.

"Well, I was born in the Cold-paws season," I heard Midnight meow from a few paw-steps behind. Her, Aspen and Storm had bunched together behind me, but only now did their conversation rise loud enough to break me out of thought.

"I would have never liked that- to have your first view of outside being cold and bleak," meowed Storm with tired eyes. The tom's dark green gaze had spirit in their depths, but like all of the rest of us we'd been weary and paw-sore from cold stone on dry pads. My paws had hardened, but that didn't ease any aches from the all-day traveling and constant hunger pains.

"But the snow only makes the ground colder," meowed Aspen, the fur around his neck rippling with the bright red lace it held. Midnight tilted her head towards him from the corner of my vision.

"It was always the best season for stalking at night. I remember watching my mother leave the tree-stump and blending in with the white snow," mewed Midnight with a sudden far-away look. I jerked my head back forward before any cat could realize I'd been eaves-dropping and watching their conversation, though a feeling told me that Midnight already knew.

It grew into silence for a moment, and I could tell Chris and Storm were giving Midnight a silent moment of respect and understanding. Midnight said something else about her pelt being black, though, but I was no longer paying attention. I couldn't remember how they had come to be standing so close behind, yet I was still padding directly in front of the three cats.