Spirit

(PART TWO: SNOW SOAKED IN BLOOD) CHAPTER SIX

"Before you go along," a strong yet sweet voice started. Ivory looked over to find a sleek black she-cat with flaming orange eyes. "Who is your mentor?"

A shiver ran through the tabby she-cat's pelt. How would these cats react if she said it was Robin? Not only was he a Feather-Lifter, he was possibly one of the least experienced cats in the group, not having been in a single battle.

But the golden and brown tom stepped forward, surprisingly proudly.

"I was not asking for your friend." Shadow's voice rose as she eyed Robin. "Unless you defied everything you were told and chose him as your mentor."

"I am," Robin replied.

Hawthorn's snout wrinkled. "Well if she learned anything, she should be able to at least hunt."

Singe looked at the Feather-Lifter leader, but said nothing.

"You may begin."

Ivory paced around the clearing, looking up at the trees to find anything, anything, she'd be able to track and take down. Her paws grew colder with each step, and she could feel the leaders' eyes on her.

After countless paces, Ivory heard a chirp, and she paused her frozen paws. She immediately tried to block out all other noises, and focus on her new prey. Looking up, deep blue feathers caught her gaze. She readied herself, and waited. She was not going to embarrass herself by missing the bird, especially since it was so high on the branches of the tree.

Another chirp, and the blue jay sweeped down to the ground. This time, the she-cat took no chances and pounced on the bird, killing it instantly.

She looked back at the older cats; Singe was the only one who wore an obvious grimace. "Her mentor made her biased," she hissed under her breath. "That's why we only have Spirit-Wanderers and Rogues."

Hawthorn caught the Rogue she-cat's words. "Wouldn't Rogues make them biased, too?"

Bright spoke up. "Well if they don't want to get themselves killed, they would choose a group instead of running away."

Robin stepped forward to the dead bird and plucked a couple of the deepest blue feathers. He gestured for Ivory to stay still, and she did so as he tied the mark into her fur, right underneath her ear.

Shadow nodded, then came to sit by the new Feather-Lifter. "I declare this kit as. . ." She placed her paw on top of the younger she-cat's. ". . . a Feather-Lifter."

After a small moment of silence, the older cats got up and left, and Ivory followed Robin back into the camp.

~~~

Robin went on his own way again, and Ivory was about to go back into her den; but the air started to feel colder, and she remembered what the tom had explained to her. She reluctantly walked over to the Spirit-Wanderer's den.

"It's about time I'd have visitors." Moon's voice was soft and cold as the night. "What do you need?"

"You said you were having dreams about Snow-Season?" Ivory asked.

"Oh, yes." The old Spirit-Wanderer sighed. "Blood filled war is still upon us, kit. I try to warn the other groups. . . but they won't listen."

"Could you tell me one of the dreams?" Her voice almost broke with anticipation and fear.

The pale blue-gray she-cat sighed again, and smiled. "It was like I was a Spirit, watching the Feather-Lifters from the night sky. The ground was still warm, but it seemed like nature didn't care. It sent snow on us, then eventually snowstorms. . . with lightning. And finally, betrayal. I didn't get to see much of it, but it happened."

"Betrayal?" the beige and ginger tabby exclaimed. "Who was it? Did you see their pelt color? At least their pelt color, please!"

"Now, calm down, young kit," Moon reassured. "If I recall correctly, there was your pelt, a golden pelt, and white and gray."

Robin! Ivory perked up. "I'll have to get going." With that, she darted to her own den.

It can't mean anything, I mean, it was from an old cat's mind, it can't be real. It's just a coincidence. Her ears twitched at the sound of pawsteps, and she jerked herself up in a Ready-to-Battle position. "Who are you?" she barked.

"Ivory, calm down." It was Robin.

The golden tom stepped into her den.

"Why are you here?" the she-cat asked, worry slowly taking over her fear.

"Well, Moon said the snowstorm will happen at a time when the moon is brightest," he answered, "and I don't feel like the den I'm in is safe."