Spirit

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ivory saw Robin pause and sniff the air. "You feel it too?" she called, slightly nervous from his demeanor before.

"Yeah. . ." He seemed calmer now. He froze. "Hawthorn." The golden tom darted right past Ivory, who quietly protested.

"Are you coming or not?" Her friend shouted. "The snowfall is here! Snow-Season started earlier than normal."

The tabby she-cat caught up to him. "Why should you warn Hawthorn?"

"Because—" He cut himself off. "Because it's never happened before. We have just a slight shortage of prey, but the other groups didn't listen." He looked at her. "And the Rogues threatened to attack when the ground is white."

Ivory surveyed the camp, and sure enough, the snow wasn't melting as soon as it fell to the ground. Once the ground is white, she thought. That still gives us time to prepare. She perked up. "We have time to prepare."

"Not much," Robin growled. "And if we don't warn our leader, we will die."

The beige and ginger tabby reluctantly walked with him to the leader's den.

"Hawthorn." The golden and brown tom spoke before Ivory had a chance to. "The snowfall is happening. The Rogues threatened to keep the war once it happens. The end of this Season was too quiet from them, and now I can see why."

Ivory realised that Robin was taking over because he didn't see her as experienced enough. All she had to do was spectate the small meeting.

"Rogues don't keep promises." The scarred tom's voice had a small part of sincerity to it, though the she-cat couldn't figure why.

"But they will keep this one!" Robin was growing desperate at this point. "They'll do anything if it means innocent cats will die!"

"They are merciless, heartless monsters," the brown tabby answered, as if he knew what Ivory's friend was going to say. "I've heard that countless times before. I've heard threats countless times before. They never follow through."

Ivory couldn't stand her leader's calmness. "And if they follow through with this one? Then what will you do?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "Wait it out and let your group die? You're about as good as a Rogue."

Robin bared his teeth, furious, but she guessed Hawthorn's authority stopped him from hurting her. But his eyes told her something he couldn't say aloud. What are you doing? Comparing our leader to a Rogue is the last thing you'll say!

Ivory looked back to Hawthorn. He looked calm, but based on Robin's reaction, she guessed he was hiding that expression. "I saw something last night."

The golden tom rested while the leader adopted a grimace. "Go on."

Ivory didn't expect him to accept her suggestion. "I had a dream I was near Spirit Lake, then Robin and this white she-cat came towards me. They just sat there." She perked up. "The ground under me collapsed and—and I think I landed in Rogue territory."

"What Season?" Hawthorn demanded.

"Um. . . Snow-Season," Ivory answered. She then went on describing the dream. "There were cats I couldn't see, then they spoke. They said something. . . but I can't recall."

"Report back to me once you recall," her leader said.

"What?"

Robin nudged her. "Let's get going. Don't question Hawthorn's decisions."

"If you say so," Ivory muttered, but she followed him into the cold camp. "I don't get why we have to treat him like a Spirit." She looked into the tom's green eyes. "Can't you just act like a normal cat and not judge my every move when I'm in his sight?"

"I'm just trying not to get you killed," he murmured. "I actually like you and I don't want to see you dead."

"You don't like most cats?"

"I—" A loud call interrupted him.

"All cats who have their feathers gather towards the Quickfeather Stone for a group meeting."

"Now look what you've done," Robin snarled. He and Ivory were the last cats to gather.

The beige and ginger tabby looked at the crowd of cats with weary yellow eyes, wondering if any of them would be furious at her if Hawthorn stated her name.

"I call you here to warn you," Hawthorn started. Ivory snapped her attention back to the leader. "Someone warned me about the Rogues." He gave the she-cat a quick glance before adding, "They are planning an ambush attack once the ground turned white."

Ivory looked down at her own paws. The snow around them was already rising.

"Wouldn't've they attacked by now?" a younger sounding voice protested. "We gave them time, and they didn't take it."

"They didn't take the time because it isn't time," another voice responded. "Yet."

All the Feather-Lifters turned to each other and began a hum of chatter, and Robin and Ivory were the only cats who's full attention was still on Hawthorn.

"SILENCE!" Hawthorn ordered, causing the talking cats to pause. "You are in danger, great danger; do you not realise that?" He stepped to the edge of the stone. "The fate of the groups may be in all of your paws if the Rogues continue this war."