Spirit

CHAPTER TWO

Ivory growled. The name 'Robin' seemed to be too perfect for a Feather-Lifter, but there's nothing she could do about it. He clearly passed the test. He has his mark. It would be worthless to find something weird or wrong about him. Maybe Singe was right. She needed to put trust in her veins. But was it worth death to have a couple alliances only to have them turn on you?

She looked over, and Robin had a squirrel under his paw. It seemed like that was the only thing he'd be dangerous to, and would it hurt if she had a little help before the test? She had to take it sometime; she knew that.

"Hey, Robin?"

The brown and gold tom looked up, and the squirrel slipped out of his claws. His snout wrinkled again, then he said, "What's up?"

"I was thinking, and—"

The new tom cut her off. "You want to train with me." He sighed with an undertone of laughter. "I get that a lot. Most of the time I turn them down; I don't have enough time to—" There was a pause. "I guess I could."

Ivory smiled. "Okay then. Where do we start?"

Robin looked at her. "We can't start until Hawthorn has your scent."

The she-cat's ginger ears perked up. "Hawthorn? Having my scent?"

The golden tom flicked his tail. "I'll just show you. Follow me."

Ivory reluctantly followed her new friend into the camp; she has never seen so many cats in one place before.

Robin must've noticed the she-cat's intrigued expression. "Have you seen a camp before?"

"Not really." Ivory was still focused on the sheer number of cats living in harmony. "My mother took me away from the Claw-Bearer camp when Rogues attacked." She shook her head. "She still probably thinks I'm drowned at the river."

The tom's green eyes widened. "Drown? The Rogues tried to drown you?"

"Yeah—"

"You're so lucky to be alive. I heard they can kill even the strongest cat in seconds." His claws unleashed for a heartbeat, but they retracted before Ivory could get a good look at them.

"Robin," a voice demanded. Ivory stopped in her tracks, and saw a scarred brown tabby with gleaming orange eyes. She could sense the cats around her pause, as if the tom had more authority than she knew.

Robin hissed quietly. "Hawthorn."

"It's about time you finished your patrol." The scarred tom gestured towards the beige and ginger tabby with his shortened tail. "Who is this cat you brought with?"

"Well—"

Ivory cut the golden tom off. "I want to become a Feather-Lifter! I haven't taken the test yet, and—" She yelped as Robin drove one of his back paws onto her tail.

"That's not how you speak to the leader," he snarled under his breath. "You don't know what he'll do with you if you treat him wrong."

He lifted his paw off, and the beige she-cat kept quiet.

"What she was trying to say is; do you trust her enough to give her a chance to become a Feather-Lifter? She hasn't done anything to prepare for the test, and she wants me to teach her."

The leader's sharp gaze fell on Ivory, and she was practically shivering with nervousness and fear. If he doesn't accept her, where will she go? What would be the chances of her becoming a Feather-Lifter anyways; she swore he thought she was a—

"I'll let you keep her."

The beige and ginger tabby looked over to the other tom, who had a grin wider than she had ever seen on a cat.

Ivory smiled back, even though she wasn't sure why. She was still worried about whether she'd pass the test or not, and if she could be banished earlier than she thought. She felt a presence from outside the camp, and a cat was seen out of the corner of her eye.

She couldn't make out the details since Robin tried to nudge her forward, which snapped her out of the slight trance.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

The she-cat shook her head, trying to forget about the cat. "Nothing. I just—yeah, nothing."

The golden and brown tom shrugged, and Ivory followed him to an area where grass, moss, and leaves hung up around the entrance of a den. He flinched when he looked inside, but said, "I made this behind Hawthorn's back. He hasn't seemed to notice it, and this is the only den I can really give you." He frowned. "Try to make the best of it."

The beige and ginger tabby stepped inside of the cold, shady den, then heard paws crushing leaves as Robin left.

Sighing, she gathered up some of the moss around the surface of her new found home and made a nest of it.

She lay down on the soft material and shut her eyes. Try to make the best of it.