The Silent Thaw

Chapter 2

Bristlefrost fluffed out her fur against the morning chill, relieved that the sun had risen high enough to flood the camp with tepid sunshine. Greenleaf still seemed a long way off, but after the hard leaf-bare, even the smallest trace of warmth was welcome.

“Help me pull this strand clear.” Thriftear’s mew made her turn. Her sister was tugging hard at a shriveled length of honeysuckle dangling from the wall of the elders’ den.

Bristlefrost hurried to help her and grabbed the stem with her claws. Pulling together, she and Thriftear drew it out.

Graystripe peered out through the gap they’d left. “What are you trying to do?” He ducked outside. “There’ll be a draft tonight, and you know how the cold makes Cloudtail’s bones ache.”

“Don’t worry.” Stemleaf padded from behind the den, where he’d been checking for more shriveled stalks. “I’ll bring bracken back from my patrol today and fix the holes before sundown.”

“I’ll help too.” Spotfur hurried to his side. She’d been helping Stemleaf behind the den, and honeysuckle sprigs stuck in her pelt. “Stemleaf would never want an elder to be cold.” She looked proudly at Stemleaf, as though it had been his idea to fix up the elders’ den in the first place.

Stemleaf puffed out his chest happily.

Irritated, Bristlefrost forced her fur flat. She should be glad that her denmates had been eager to help. And she had to get used to Stemleaf and Spotfur being so close. Her crush on the white-and-orange tom had been mouse-brained. It was obvious now that he’d only ever seen her as a friend. So he liked Spotfur—so what? There were plenty more mice in the forest. Thriftear caught her eye and pulled a goofy face, mimicking Spotfur’s wide-eyed admiration for Stemleaf. Her sister knew how she felt about the tom. Bristlefrost swallowed back a purr.

Spotfur blinked at her anxiously. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No!” Bristlefrost felt instantly guilty. It wasn’t Spotfur’s fault Stemleaf liked her. “I’m really glad you want to help fix up the elders’ den.”

Spotfur sat back on her haunches looking pleased. “We have to do something while we’re waiting for Squirrelflight to assign patrols. If we just sat around, we’d get cold.” She glanced around the camp, where her Clanmates were shifting their paws to keep warm, their breath billowing in the morning air.

Flamepaw and Finchpaw were nosing at the camp wall, sniffing for signs of prey, while Lilyheart and Cinderheart murmured quietly to each other. Flipclaw was playing moss-ball with Dewnose and Snaptooth nearby, lunging between his denmates to grab the tuft of moss they’d been chasing at the edge of the clearing. Bumblestripe and Lionblaze sheltered beneath the Highledge, while Rosepetal eyed the meager pawful of stale prey lying on the fresh-kill pile.

“When are we going out to train?” Across the clearing, Baypaw looked eagerly at Mousewhisker. “You promised to teach me about ShadowClan battle moves today.”

The young tom’s mentor glanced toward the Highledge. “We’ll leave when I know Squirrelflight doesn’t have other plans for us.”

Squirrelflight had only emerged from Bramblestar’s den for a few moments before dawn to assign the first patrol of the day. Bramblestar had called her back inside before she could organize the rest of the day’s duties. Since he’d lost a life, the ThunderClan leader preferred the quiet of his den, and he seemed to need Squirrelflight’s company more than a newborn kit. I can’t imagine losing a life, Bristlefrost thought. She guessed it would take a while to get over—the first time, at least.

Brightheart padded stiffly from the elders’ den. “Is any cat going to fix those holes?” She glanced ruefully at the gaps the young warriors had made in the walls of the honeysuckle den.

“Stemleaf and Spotfur are going to fetch bracken to fill them later,” Graystripe told her.

Bristlefrost blinked eagerly at the old she-cat. “The bracken will keep you warm until fresh honeysuckle grows in.” She felt sorry for the elders. They were too old to warm themselves up with a run through the forest.

“Good.” Brightheart turned away. As she padded back inside, the camp entrance shivered. The dawn patrol had returned.

Its leader, Thornclaw, stopped at the edge of the clearing. Hollytuft, Plumstone, and Eaglewing halted beside him, their eyes widening with surprise as they saw their Clanmates still in camp. “Haven’t the hunting patrols left yet?” Thornclaw eyed Lionblaze, puzzled.

Lionblaze shrugged. “We’re waiting for Squirrelflight.”

“I was looking forward to fresh prey when we got back.” Thornclaw glanced disapprovingly at the Highledge before padding to the fresh-kill pile. “Don’t expect much excitement when you go out,” he told Lionblaze as he picked up a shriveled mouse. “The forest is quiet today.” He carried to it to a patch of frost-scorched grass at the edge of the clearing, dropped it, and sat down. “But there are plenty of signs of prey on the WindClan border.” He blinked at the golden warrior. “It won’t take long to restock the fresh-kill pile.”

Lionblaze sniffed. “It should be full by now.”

“I’m not waiting any longer.” Mousewhisker got to his paws. He beckoned Baypaw with a flick of his tail. “Come on. We can’t sit around here all morning.” As he led his apprentice out of camp, Lilyheart hurried after him.

Cinderheart nodded to Finchpaw and Flamepaw. “We’ll go too,” she told them. “Border patrols will have to wait.”

As they padded out of camp, movement on the Highledge caught Bristlefrost’s eye. Squirrelflight slid out of Bramblestar’s den. She stood on the ledge and glanced down into the clearing, her gaze flicking toward the entrance as Finchpaw and Flamepaw filed out. “Are they going to train?” she called distractedly.

“Yes,” Lionblaze called up to her. “I can fetch them back if you want them on patrol.”

She shook her head. “No thanks.” She scrambled down the rock tumble. “Training is the best thing they can do.” She glanced around the clearing, as though focusing her thoughts.

Bristlefrost blinked at her eagerly, her pelt pricking with excitement as Bramblestar emerged from his den and made his way down the rock tumble to join Squirrelflight. The day could start properly now. She pricked her ears, wondering which patrol she would be assigned to.

“Lionblaze.” As Squirrelflight nodded to the golden warrior, Bramblestar’s gaze flitted curiously around camp. “Take Rosepetal, Bumblestripe, and Berrynose hunting.”

Bristlefrost watched Bramblestar. Since he’d lost a life, Bramblestar seemed to find the camp intriguing, as though it had changed. Every now and then he’d wander around the edges, and yesterday his nose had twitched, as though he’d been surprised by the smell of herbs, when he’d gone into the medicine den. She wondered if losing a life made a leader forget the life before, so that everything afterward seemed strange.

“Thornclaw says there are signs of prey on the WindClan border,” Lionblaze told Squirrelflight. “Should we hunt there?”

“Yes.” Squirrelflight gazed at the trees. “But be careful not to chase prey across the scent line. Now that we’ve finally worked out the borders, we don’t want to confuse them again.” She nodded to Cherryfall. “Take Poppyfrost, Sparkpelt, and Stormcloud and refresh the border markers.”

“The WindClan ones?” As Cherryfall blinked at Squirrelflight, Bramblestar padded closer to the fresh-kill pile.

“No. Start with SkyClan,” Squirrelflight told her. “They refreshed their markers yesterday, and I want to make sure that our scent line is as clear as—”

“Is the fresh-kill pile always so poorly stocked?” Bramblestar interrupted her. He poked at the damp shrew that was all that was left of yesterday’s prey.

Squirrelflight looked at him, her gaze gentle. “It’s early,” she mewed apologetically. “I haven’t had time to organize the hunting patrols. It’ll be well-stocked later.” She turned back to Cherryfall. “Try and catch some prey while you’re out. I’m afraid I’m a little behind—”

“Why are we repairing the elders’ den?” Bramblestar had crossed the clearing and was sniffing at the withered stems Bristlefrost and Thriftear had tugged from the walls.

Bristlefrost’s pelt prickled. Had it been a dumb idea to fix the elders’ den? “We want to make sure they’re warm,” she told him quickly. “Until fresh honeysuckle grows in.”

Bramblestar hardly looked at her, his gaze flashing toward the warriors’ den. The brambles were torn on one side, where the leaf-bare snows had dragged them down. “It’s the warriors who keep the Clan healthy and strong,” he meowed. “We should take care of them first. Elders are tough enough to survive a draft or two.”

Graystripe shifted beside Bristlefrost, a frown clouding his gaze. “Cloudtail’s bones feel the cold,” he grunted.

Bristlefrost shifted uneasily. Graystripe was right to remind the ThunderClan leader of that, but Bramblestar wouldn’t suggest repairing the warriors’ den instead without a good reason.

Bramblestar answered the old gray tom without looking at him. “Extra bedding will keep Cloudtail warm.”

Bristlefrost felt relieved. See? Bramblestar was thinking of every cat.

Squirrelflight swished her tail. “We can take care of the dens once we’ve restocked the fresh-kill pile,” she mewed briskly. “Let me finish organizing the hunting patrols and then I’ll see about gathering extra bedding.”

“Squirrelflight.” Alderheart’s mew made the ThunderClan deputy turn. The dark ginger medicine cat was hurrying from his den. “Do you need me this morning? I want to go out and check to see if there are signs of new herbs growing yet.”

“I told you . . .” Jayfeather followed Alderheart out. “It’ll be a moon before we see fresh herbs. We might as well make the most of the ones we’ve got. If we mix the dried leaves with some sap, it will preserve them for a while longer.”

“I can collect some sap while I’m out,” Alderheart suggested.

Squirrelflight didn’t seem to be listening. Her gaze had drifted past them, growing sad as she stared at the bramble-covered entrance of the medicine cats’ den. Bristlefrost’s heart pricked with sympathy. That was where Leafpool had died. The whole Clan was still grieving her loss. Bristlefrost moved closer to Thriftear. She couldn’t imagine losing a littermate.

Bramblestar padded to Squirrelflight’s side and glared at the medicine cats. “I don’t know why you’re bothering the deputy with stuff that doesn’t concern her,” he told them sharply. “Decide for yourself whether you want sap or herbs.”

As Jayfeather jerked his nose toward the ThunderClan leader, his face creasing in a frown, Bristlefrost blinked. “Why is he so angry with Jayfeather and Alderheart?” she whispered to Thriftear.

“Perhaps he blames them for letting him die,” Thriftear whispered back.

Bristlefrost shivered. “I hope he never looks at me like that.”

“Why would he?” Thriftear glanced at her.

Bristlefrost shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m going to try to be the best warrior in the Clan from now on.” She was relieved to see Bramblestar’s gaze soften as he turned back to Squirrelflight.

Stemleaf caught her eye. The white-and-orange tom looked puzzled. “Is it me, or is Bramblestar being weird?” he murmured under his breath.

“He’s been weird since he lost a life,” Spotfur agreed quietly.

“Losing a life must be hard,” Bristlefrost told them. “We don’t know what it’s like.”

“He’ll feel better soon,” Thriftear mewed.

“I hope so,” Graystripe huffed. “Firestar never acted like this after he’d lost a life.” With an irritable flick of his tail, the gray tom ducked into his den.

Flipclaw was crossing the clearing, Dewnose and Snaptooth at his heels. They stopped in front of Squirrelflight and Bramblestar. “Should we hunt in the beech grove?” Flipclaw offered. “I think I smelled a fresh mouse nest there yesterday.”

Bramblestar frowned at the young tom. “Then why didn’t you dig it up yesterday?”

Flipclaw blinked at him. “I’d already caught a squirrel,” he mewed. “I thought it could wait.”

Squirrelflight ran her tail along Bramblestar’s spine. “It’s best not to hunt too hard this early into newleaf,” she mewed lightly. “Remember? We want some prey alive to make more prey so there’s plenty by greenleaf.”

Bramblestar’s fur ruffled. “Of course I remember,” he snapped. He hesitated as though realizing he’d been too sharp and touched his nose to Squirrelflight’s ear. “But you’re right to remind our younger warriors.” He nodded to Dewnose. “You’re training him well, Dewtail.”

“Dewnose.” Dewnose blinked at him. “I’m called Dewnose.”

“Of course you are.” Bramblestar grunted crossly. “I knew that.”

Squirrelflight leaned against the ThunderClan leader, her eyes welling with pity. “You don’t have to remember everything. Are you tired again? Perhaps you should rest.”

As she steered him away, talking softly in his ear, Stemleaf leaned closer to Spotfur. “He used to remember everything,” he grumbled.

Bristlefrost glared at the white-and-orange tom. Why was he being so hard on Bramblestar? She eyed her leader sympathetically, relieved he was too far away to hear Stemleaf’s criticism. “Have you forgotten how sick he was?”

“He’s healthy now,” Stemleaf retorted.

“But he died!” Bristlefrost’s pelt flushed with indignation. “It’s bound to change things.”

“If the Clan leaders changed personality every time they lost a life, the Clans would be a mess,” Stemleaf pressed.

Spotfur nodded. “Even if Bramblestar’s feeling weird, he doesn’t have to stop Squirrelflight from organizing patrols. The fresh-kill pile is usually full by this time of day.”

“Now you’re blaming both of them!” Bristlefrost fluffed out her pelt.

“You must admit, things have been strange since Bramblestar started his new life,” Thriftear breathed.

“So what? They’re great warriors!” Bristlefrost jerked away from her sister. “We’re lucky to have a leader like Bramblestar, and Squirrelflight is an awesome deputy. Why are you criticizing them? They’re your Clanmates! You should be helping them.”

Anger hardened her belly. She was grateful Bramblestar had come back to them. How would ThunderClan have survived without him? Squirrelflight and Bramblestar needed the support of their Clan. Puffing out her chest, she left her denmates and crossed the clearing. She was going to help Bramblestar. It was what a honorable warrior would do.

Bramblestar and Squirrelflight stood beneath the Highledge. Bramblestar had clearly decided that he didn’t need any more rest and stood watching as Squirrelflight gave orders to Flipclaw.

“Take Eaglewing with you,” she told the young warrior. “Start at the beech grove, and then try the area beside the abandoned Twoleg den.”

“What about the ancient oak?” Bramblestar chipped in. “There’s always good hunting there.”

“That’s a good idea.” Squirrelflight blinked at her mate gratefully. “But the hunting hasn’t been so good there for the past few seasons. It might be best to wait till greenleaf to give prey a chance to return.”

As Bristlefrost reached them, her ears grew hot. She’d only been a warrior for a moon. Was she allowed to approach her leader and offer help? She hesitated and looked nervously at Squirrelflight. “Excuse me.”

The ThunderClan deputy dragged her gaze distractedly from Flipclaw. “Can it wait?” she asked. “I’ve got more patrols to organize.”

“I—I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help,” Bristlefrost’s mouth felt dry as she met Squirrelflight’s gaze.

“I suppose you can join your brother’s patrol,” Squirrelflight mewed thoughtfully. Her gaze was flitting around the camp, as though wondering who else to send hunting.

“Sure.” Bristlefrost lifted her tail eagerly.

Bramblestar’s eyes flashed with sudden interest. “Why send her out on patrol?” he mewed suddenly. “Leave that to the other warriors.”

Bristlefrost chest tightened. Didn’t he think she was good enough to hunt with her Clanmates?

Squirrelflight looked at him quizzically. “But she wanted to help,” she mewed.

“She can help in a much more important way than that.” Bramblestar’s gaze rounded with warmth as he stared at Bristlefrost. Her pelt prickled self-consciously. What was he going to ask her to do? “She’s clearly an intelligent and loyal warrior,” he went on. “Who else has offered to help?” He flicked his tail dismissively. “Bristlefrost is the kind of warrior we want. We should give her more responsibility.” He glanced critically around the Clan. “Rewarding her initiative might encourage her Clanmates to offer help when it’s needed.”

Squirrelflight’s brow furrowed as she looked at Bramblestar. “She hasn’t been a warrior for long,” she cautioned.

“Then she won’t be stuck in old warrior ways,” Bramblestar meowed breezily. “From now on, Bristlefrost will organize the daily patrols.” He looked at Squirrelflight. “After all, why should you waste your time on such mundane things? You’re Clan deputy. You should learn to delegate, and I’m sure Bristlefrost will be great at it.”

Bristlefrost flinched as his eager gaze switched back to her. Did he mean it? It seemed too good to be true.

“I s-suppose.” Squirrelflight didn’t sound as eager as Bramblestar.

At the edge of the clearing, Thornclaw got to his paws. “Do you think it’s wise to give a young cat so much responsibility?”

“Of course,” Bramblestar told him. “How else will our young Clanmates grow into warriors as strong and capable as you? Surely you see it’ll be good for the Clan?” He held Thornclaw’s gaze until the dark tabby dipped his head.

“I guess,” Thornclaw murmured.

Excitement pricked through Bristlefrost’s paws. “Thank you, Bramblestar!” she mewed before any of the other warriors could object. “I just want to help my Clan any way I can.” She purred happily, ignoring the doubt shimmering in Squirrelflight’s gaze.

“See?” Bramblestar blinked at Squirrelflight. “Energetic, enthusiastic young warriors will make ThunderClan stronger.”

Squirrelflight returned his gaze. “Okay,” she mewed softly. She looked at Bristlefrost. “Do you think you can handle it?”

Bristlefrost whisked her tail. “I’ll do my best!”