Wildcat

by Rebecca Hutto

  She smiled softly. “Yes, sir. And Hyrees is actually excited about starting his clayworking training, which is great. Everything’s going to go back to normal soon, only better. Also worse in some ways, but the bad should be less than the good if we do everything right.”

  Cloud chuffed. “I take it you have a plan?”

  “Make life easier to predict. Remove unnecessary variables. Keep good cats from dying too soon.” She paused and thought for a moment. “It’s a loose plan, but I’m still working on it.”

  Cloud smiled, both for her and himself. Odd and unconventional as she was, she was doing her best. It hurt him inside to know her almost kittenish mind still didn’t appear to grasp the concept of war or the full extent of the meaning of death, but she was trying her hardest to cope with it all, and doing so in the only ways she knew how. Her optimism seemed to be rubbing off on the rest of the colony, even when some still joked or sneered about her behind her back.

  “Well, it seems to be working so far. I’m proud of you, you know,” he replied.

  She stopped and looked at him for a moment, eyes wide and sparking with excitement. A moment later the sparks disappeared. Her expression went eerily blank and she continued walking. “Thanks, Dad. I know I’m a little late, but at least I’ve managed to do it. Now, all this,” she lifted a mechanical forepaw, as if inviting him to study its gaudy, artificial skin, “was worth it.”

  ‘Worth it? The fight? Almost losing you? Getting mangled beyond repair? Aspen and Wren dying?’ It was Cloud’s turn to stop. “What are you talking about?”

  Her half-tail twitched as her gaze meandered off around the Glade. “You being proud of me made everything that’s happened to me worth it. The pain, the fear, the sadness; you made it all okay, because now I know who I’m supposed to be. I’m finally doing something right.”

  He lowered his ears against the sides of his face to match the sinking feeling consuming his chest. ‘Has she been basing her whole life around trying to please me? Have I never told her until today? Surely I must have at some point.’

  Cloud forced an amused chuff. “Ember, I’ve been proud of you since the day you were born. Since before you were born.”

  Her eyes lit up again, but the light went out as suddenly as it came. “Not that simple,” she said.

  “Not that simple? What are you trying to say?”

  “Not straight,” she muttered. “Not enough. Proofs. I really do need to work this one out better.” Her stomach grumbled. She perked up, but her expression remained unreadable. “Oh, yes, right, right.”

  “Ember?”

  “Hmm? Oh! I don’t know. The world needs less yellow-green, don’t you think? It’s not a very nice color. You said you wanted to talk to me before I got hit. Did you still want to do that?”

  “Uhm,” he stumbled over his words, taken aback by her sudden, irrelevant question. Yes, Aspen was dead, but until Farlight became commander, there was always the chance Lupine would keep his brother’s last threatening promise. He tried to smile at her. “I want to talk to you, of course, but I don’t know that what I was going to tell you then really matters anymore. You seem to be handling yourself fairly well.”

  Instead of replying, she sighed and went back to walking.

  He followed alongside her in silence, waiting for an explanation. She didn’t offer one.

  When they got to the food storage, the cats already there turned and lowered their heads in respect.

  “Good morning. So what’s the weather going to do today, Ember?” one of them asked.

  Cloud realized it was Rowan. He dipped his head politely. He was surprised to admit it, but ever since getting yelled at after attacking Hyrees, the young tom had become quite agreeable to be around. In many ways Rowan reminded him of himself: stubborn and fiery, but smart and always trying to please his superiors.

  Before Ember could reply, a young tortoiseshell molly positioned herself between them. “That’s not important right now. I have an emergency. Will it be cold enough for the creek to freeze over anytime soon, and if so, how long do we have? This is extremely important, okay? I bet all of my credits on it not freezing for the next mooncycle.”

  “Oh, shut your muzzle, fluffhead,” a smoky tom snapped. “She doesn’t have time for your one-credit problem, and knowing you, that expression is probably quite literal.” He stepped closer to Ember, ignoring the snarls of the enraged molly behind him. “But do you have the time to check where I’d most likely be able to locate some new sparkstones? The ones we have are old, and Lupine has tasked me with finding more.”

  Ember crouched down and backed away from the impatient trio. She tucked her tail and ducked behind Cloud. “No! No, no, no, please stop. That’s not even how it works. I don’t have the answers to everything. Please, just let us get some food and leave me alone.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Ember,” Rowan said. “I didn’t know if finding out the weather was something you could do or not. I thought it was.”

  Ember sighed and flattened her ears. “Sunny this morning, cloudy tonight, snowy tomorrow.”

  “What about the creek?” the young tortoiseshell asked.

  She closed her eyes. “I don’t know, okay? Please, just let us get some food.”

  ‘Oh no, not this again.’ Cloud backed up. He pressed his cheek against her side in an attempt to calm her. ‘Welcome to my world. Not too glamorous, is it, having everyone look to you for advice? They act like a bunch of kittens, don’t they?’

  “So you don’t know where to find sparkstones?” the tom said.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” a calm-yet-firm voice said.

  Cloud turned around to find Songbird standing outside the storage cave. Her fur glistened in the sun like the shimmering stones lining the small cavern behind her. She pushed three lumps of meat forward. “Here are your rations. Time to leave.”

  The tom growled but obeyed. Rowan and the molly grabbed their meals, then carried them off to eat. Ember strode toward Songbird. They touched noses.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Ember purred.

  Songbird leaned closer to press her forehead against Ember’s. “Not a problem. They needed to stop. This really is getting ridiculous. You’d think they can’t survive without you now.”

  “I don’t mind questions, as long they’re only asked one at a time, and are questions I can actually get the answers to.” Ember turned toward the cave and sniffed the air. “Something smells weird. Did you catch some rabbits yesterday?”

  Songbird chuffed. “Not me, but some of the other hunters did. They got two. Do you want one?”

  “I just want food, and I’ll take it in whatever form you decide to give me.”

  “Alright then,” Songbird said. She padded into the cave. “One rabbit coming up.”

  Ember’s eyes narrowed. She tilted her head, as if confused, but said nothing. Cloud turned his attention to the storage cave and smiled as his eyes adjusted to the dull lighting. They landed on a hole under the back wall, which caused him to chuckle when he remembered how it got there.

  Once, when Kivyress was only a few mooncycles old, she’d followed Songbird down into the cave. For a few moments she’d sniffed around and examined the preserved meats, then, when Songbird wasn’t looking, she’d dug at the little crack between the ground and the back wall. When she’d carved out a deep enough hole to fit herself in the crevice, she’d crawled through and gotten stuck in whatever cavern lay on the other side. In order to get her out, Songbird and Kivyress had worked together to make it big enough for her to squeeze back out. When the rescue mission had ended, no one had bothered to fill the hole back in, so the tiny passageway remained a part of the storage cave.

  Songbird came out with a small rabbit, bringing him back to the present. She gave the limp rodent to Ember, who dragged it to a quiet, rocky nook a few leaps away. Songbird walked over to Cloud and pressed her nose against his, her meat-scented breath warming his face. “So what do you want this morning? Oh, and I almost forgo
t—how’s the project coming?”

  Cloud chuffed and licked her cheek. “It’s not doing much yet, but it’s supposed to take a while, so I’ll have to wait. We all will. I think that—”

  She shoved a paw against his muzzle. “What do you want to eat, fluffhead?”

  Cloud sighed. He nudged her paw away from his mouth and smiled. “Anything that’s not poisonous. Furball.”

  Songbird chuckled and trotted away to get him his surprise meal. She returned with a lump of turkey meat.

  “Turkey?” he asked. “Again? Tahg, ever since that one tried to eat your face, you’ve been showing those birds no mercy.”

  She laughed her gentle, loving laugh. “Oh no, I’m getting my revenge on all the turkeys. Or at least most of them. Many of them. Some of them. Look, they messed up my face, so they deserve to be hunted. Never mind the fact that I started it.” She stopped to look him over. “You are okay with turkey, right?”

  Cloud licked her cheek again. “Of course I am. I was just being difficult.”

  She pressed closer to him. “Nothing new there.”

  Something cold struck his back. Cloud spun around. Kivyress stood a leap away, trying and failing to look innocent.

  “Oh, sorry, were you two having a moment that my hungry self just ruined?” she asked.

  “And good morning to you too,” he replied.

  “Oh, come on, Kivy.” Farlight pranced over to join them. The fur along his back stood on end. His tail thrashed, as if he were agitated by something, but nothing else about him looked troubled. “Just let them be all gross and nuzzle-licky. After all, one day we’ll probably be just like them.” He leaned over and licked Kivyress’s cheek.

  Kivyress jerked her head away. “Whoa, what? Far, what was that? You were joking, right?”

  Cloud winced. ‘Ouch, Kivy. Way to let him down easy.’

  Farlight’s ears and tail drooped. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that was just a joke. Heh. I mean, could you even imagine us together?”

  Kivyress chuckled halfheartedly. “Yes, I can, but as friends. At least for now. Look, I don’t care if we’re not actually related. You’re my brother, Far. I don’t want anything coming between us and what we’ve got going right now. I don’t need a future mate. Not for a while, at least. I need my loyal best friend, who will soon also be my wonderfully competent commander. Okay?”

  Cloud flinched. Aspen had warned him to keep watch over Farlight. Aside from training sessions, however, he hardly ever saw him. Part of him wondered if he was letting his duties slip, or failing his true commander once again.

  Farlight forced a smile. His tail slowed to a steady twitch. “Okay. So . . . food?”

  “Of course,” Kivyress replied. “Mom, are we allowed to eat yet?”

  Songbird smiled. “Yes. What do you two want?”

  Kivyress glanced back to where Ember was eating her meal. Hyrees had turned up at some point and was speaking to her. “Em’s got a rabbit. Do you have any more?”

  “We sure do. Farlight, what about you?”

  Farlight looked at her, doing an excellent job of keeping his composure. “I don’t care what you give me, ma’am. I’m just hungry.”

  “Alrighty then,” Songbird mewed as she re-entered the cave. “A rabbit and another surprise meat are on their way.”

  Farlight ended up with a piece of smoked venison. Hyrees eventually came over and got some venison as well, then another hunter took over so Songbird herself could eat.

  Cloud finished first and watched in contented silence as everyone he loved ate their meals. It was a wonderful feeling, seeing them together and content. He got the urge to ask Wren how he thought the patrol would go but pushed the feeling away.

  He twitched his tail and let out a long, slow breath. ‘I really need to stop this. It’s time to move on. It’s time for everyone to move on. Things are the way they are right now, and nothing I nor anyone else does or says will bring back the dead.’

  When Ember finished picking through her meal, she and Cloud said their goodbyes and prepared to leave the Glade.

  “Remember, Farlight, don’t use up all your energy today,” he said. “We’ve still got training to do.”

  Farlight nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Good tom. And Kivy, you take it easy on your trainers today. Hyrees, listen to Fledge. Songbird, I love you.”

  Songbird licked his cheek. “And I love you too. Please be careful, both of you.”

  “We will.”

  “Bye, Mom,” Ember mewed.

  For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Cloud and Ember left the Glade side by side to patrol the northern border.

  Ember

  Ember forced herself to stop biting her tongue. ‘My legs aren’t sore yet. I don’t think I like that. They’re supposed to be sore now that we’re almost back, but they don’t feel real because they’re not.’

  The patrol had gone well enough. They hadn’t actually come across any outsiders, but getting back into the routine of living made it enough of a success. They’d even taken a break at Fernburrow Falls, where icicles had coated the cliff face. As inconvenient as it was, snow enhanced the pretty factor of everything it touched. Its beauty alone balanced out many of the negatives of its existence.

  “You’re being quiet. Is something bothering you?” Cloud asked.

  ‘You should be glad you can’t hear thoughts. If you could, I would be loud, and you’d tell me to shut up, and I wouldn’t be able to.’

  “I’m okay. Just thinking about things,” she said. “It feels so different, patrolling with these.” She lifted up a forepaw and hopped forward for a few steps. The annoying little mechanical whirs grated her ears with every motion. “I guess I’ll get used to it.”

  “It’ll take some getting used to for all of us,” he replied.

  Ember examined his face to try to mimic and read his expression, but there was no expression to mimic. She snorted and kept walking.

  When they reached the Glade, Cloud wandered off to find Farlight. She sat down by the nearest fire pit to warm back up. The heating grid worked fairly well, but it didn’t provide nearly as much warmth as the flames. The cool, misty blue-greens of rest settled into her mind. She purred.

  ‘Maybe things really will get better. There haven’t been any signs of attacks since that crazy rogue showed up, then disappeared. Maybe the East just declared war to keep us on our side of the valley. She must know that, with Commander Aspen gone, we’re too weak to launch an attack.’ Ember looked over at his old den. She imagined the former commander standing atop it, tall and proud as ever. ‘The outer wall isn’t going to work, but really, our best chance is to fortify and wait.’

  Deeper in her mind’s eye, a picture of the abatises formed. She closed her eyes and imagined jumping through the treetops, calculating what places in the wall were the most vulnerable. She looked about the self-created landscape, teleporting herself to different locations around the walls until she was satisfied she’d pinpointed every weakness. She mentally climbed a tree outside the abatis whose limbs touched a tree between the two walls. She used the middle tree to reach one inside the Glade.

  ‘Oh, height is another advantage to using the trees. I automatically get the high ground.’

  An imaginary Hyrees popped into existence beneath her imaginary tree. She leaped from the tree, tackling him in the process. Then they rolled around and play-fought. The thoughts made a bright, cheerful orange trickle in to mix with her already existent greens.

  A paw tapped her on the back, snapping her away from her fantasies. Ember turned to find Farlight standing behind her. His fur stood on end. He was shivering.

  “Farlight? Dad’s looking for you, you know,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know,” he replied. “But I was looking for you. We need to talk.”

  She tilted her head and let her gaze wander back to the fire. “About what? Is there something wrong?”

  “In short, yes, but we can
’t talk about it here.”

  A little glowing ember flew into the air, almost hitting her in the face. It did a backflip, then disappeared. “Why not?” Ember asked. “Most cats are still out working, so if it’s a secret you need to share, it’s safe.”

  “No, it’s not safe. The whole Glade isn’t safe.”

  Her chest tightened. Indigo and silver took over her thoughts. She spun around to face him, ears perked and attention focused. “What do you mean it isn’t safe? This isn’t about the East, is it?”

  His tail thrashed. “Well, yes and no. It’s just—”

  “Farlight! There you are.” Cloud strode toward them. “I’ve been searching half the Glade trying to find you. Ready for your training?"

  Farlight flattened his ears. “Yes, sir.”

  “Uhm?” Ember stood up, prosthetics whining. ‘No, wait! Don’t just walk away. You haven’t finished telling me what’s going on.’

  “We’ll talk later, okay?” Farlight said. He cursed under his breath as he padded over to join Cloud. His shiver was gone, and his fur was no longer raised. Even his tail went still.

  “Uh, okay. Yeah, that’ll work. I hope. Assuming nothing terrible happens between now and later, of course.”

  She shifted her front paws so that the dark one rested on top of the white one. ‘I hope it’s nothing too important. But it probably is—it takes a little more than being brushed off by Kivyress to get your fur raised. And you wouldn’t be this cryptic if it was just that. Cryptic is not your thing.’

  “You two are having private meetings now?” Cloud asked. “You aren’t trying to take my former position are you, Ember? Trying to get on our future commander’s good side?”

  “Actually, we were just talking about talking,” Ember replied. “Besides, I wouldn’t be allowed to be chief advisor, even if I wanted to be.”

  Cloud snorted. “Ah, yes, right. Come on, Farlight. Let’s get going. We’re wasting time. You be good, Ember. If your mother asks, we’re going to the pine forest.”

  “I will. Yes, sir,” she said.

  She watched in external silence as they left. ‘That was odd.’