“Cheeky fox!” Birdflight scolded, flicking him with her tail.
They padded out of the birches and walked through the trees toward the river. The undergrowth thinned as the ground sloped down to the water. Birdflight settled herself on a patch of soft grass and Cloudstar sat beside her. The water flowed swiftly past, too deep for wading—not that any SkyClan cat would willingly get their paws wet.
“Our kits will love playing here when they’re old enough to leave camp,” Birdflight commented, gazing around the flat, sandy shore.
Cloudstar nodded to a rock that stood at the edge of the beach. “I remember jumping off that for the first time when I was a new apprentice. I thought I was flying!”
“Until you bumped your head and went wailing back to the camp,” Birdflight put in. She was several moons older than him, and had been a warrior already when he was made an apprentice.
“It didn’t put me off for long, though,” Cloudstar retorted. “I came back the next day and landed on the far side of that tree stump!” He rested his front paw on Birdflight’s bulging flank. “I’ll teach our kits to keep trying, even if things go wrong at first. They’re going to be so brave.”
“Just like you,” purred Birdflight.
“And kind and smart like you,” Cloudstar murmured, burying his nose in her soft fur.
“Well, we can only hope so,” Birdflight teased. She rolled over and sat up, looking straight into Cloudstar’s eyes. “I am very proud to be having your kits,” she whispered. “No cat could wish for a better father than you.”
“Or a better mother than you,” Cloudstar replied. He closed his eyes to drink in her scent, and as he did he felt the stirrings of warrior ancestors around him, wishing him well and watching over him, his mate, and his kits forever.
Chapter 3
Cloudstar crouched down, balancing his weight on his haunches as his hind claws sank into the soft bark. Then he pushed hard and thrust upward, reaching out with his forepaws for the branch above. His claws slid for a heartbeat, then gripped the tree limb and held his weight just long enough for him to swing his hindquarters up and climb onto the branch.
“Whoa! Way to go, Cloudstar!” chirped a voice far below.
“Seriously? ‘Way to go, Cloudstar!’ He’s our leader, don’t you know?” snapped a different voice.
“Sorry, Cloudstar!” called the first cat. “I was just really impressed!”
Cloudstar suppressed an amused purr as he steadied himself in the tree and looked down at the apprentices below. He loved these sessions with his young Clanmates, when he got to indulge his love of climbing—sometimes so fast that it felt like flying—while teaching them a few of his favorite tricks. Cloudstar always sent the mentors off on a hunting patrol, leaving him alone with the apprentices so he could see for himself their excitement, the moment their nerves about being so high up gave way to delight in the power it gave them over their prey and their enemies.
“Okay, Tansypaw,” he meowed down to the cream she-cat, who was standing on her hind legs with her front paws resting on the trunk of the tree. “Since you were watching so closely, why don’t you join me?”
“Yeah, and give us all some peace down here,” muttered her brother Snailpaw.
“Snailpaw and Mintpaw can follow whichever route you choose,” Cloudstar added, making Tansypaw shoot a triumphant glance over her shoulder at her littermates. There’s plenty of time for you to learn to control your high spirits, Cloudstar thought. Let’s make use of them now to give you courage that might be lacking in the others.
Sure enough, Snailpaw and Mintpaw moved more slowly toward the tree, their neck fur ruffled and their eyes huge and serious. Snailpaw’s dark brown pelt merged with the bark as he found his first paw holds just above his head; Mintpaw’s fur glowed pale gray in the shadows. The leaves just below Cloudstar shook frantically, and Tansypaw emerged, clinging to the trunk, her ears flat with the effort.
“Move onto that branch there,” Cloudstar instructed, pointing with his tail. “Then you’ll be able to jump up to me.”
Tansypaw blinked, then reached out with one front paw and rested it on the branch.
“Unsheathe your claws again,” meowed Cloudstar. “You’ll need them for gripping.” He ran his own smooth pad over the branch. He often climbed claws-sheathed now, for extra speed and to prove to himself that he could. After all, squirrels don’t have claws like ours!
Tansypaw was just gathering herself to jump when Snailpaw and Mintpaw scrabbled up the trunk. “Be careful,” Tansypaw yelped. “You’re shaking my branch!”
“Pretend it’s the wind,” Cloudstar suggested. “You have to learn to climb in all kinds of weather, otherwise we’d go hungry every time there was a breeze!”
Tansypaw gritted her teeth and leaped toward Cloudstar, legs flailing. He stepped backward and grabbed the young cat’s scruff as she scrabbled madly for the branch. He hauled her next to him, waiting until she had found her balance.
“Wow! That was easy!” Tansypaw puffed. Cloudstar disentangled his jaws from her neck fur and nodded.
By now, Snailpaw and Mintpaw had made it onto the lower branch. Cloudstar instructed them to jump one by one, then braced himself to catch them when they leaped close enough. Snailpaw jumped too high, and Tansypaw had to grab his tail to stop him from slithering straight over the branch and down into empty air. Mintpaw made a much neater leap and landed without Cloudstar’s help. The pale gray she-cat purred in delight.
“Right,” Cloudstar meowed. “Let’s head for the next tree.”
“But we’ve only just climbed this one,” Snailpaw protested. “I don’t want to go down again straight away.”
Cloudstar twitched his ears. “Who said anything about going down again? Our enemies would pounce on us! We’re going to practice branch-skipping!”
Snailpaw’s eyes bulged, but Tansypaw danced excitedly. “Yes! I’ve always wanted to learn how to do that!”
Snailpaw let out a yelp as the branch bounced. “Stop jiggling, Tansypaw!” he shrieked.
Cloudstar stepped forward and steadied the young cat against his shoulder. “You’re okay, Snailpaw. Tansypaw, remember that the branch is more sensitive to your weight the farther you go from the trunk. You can bounce your enemies off, but not your Clanmates!”
Once Snailpaw had found his balance again, Cloudstar jumped onto the next branch up. “I’ll show you how to cross to the nearest tree, and you follow from where you are.” He felt three pairs of eyes scorching his gray-and-white pelt as he stepped carefully to the end of the branch. It was thinner than the one below, and for a moment Cloudstar felt his belly lurch as the limb dipped toward the ground. Then it steadied, and he took a deep breath, fixing his eyes on the next tree.
“Look for a branch that is at least as thick as the one you’re on,” he told the apprentices. “And without too many twigs or leaves, because they could get in your way. Most of all, be realistic. You’re not going to be able to jump farther up here than you can on the ground. When you get it right, it will feel like flying, but as far as I know, cats have never had wings!”
He gently let out his breath, then sprang forward, stretching out his front legs toward the closest twigs. It was an easy jump—he didn’t want to scare the apprentices in their first lesson—and he landed lightly with all four paws on the new perch. He spun around and nodded to the young cats staring anxiously from the other tree. “Come on!”
Tansypaw went first. She screwed up her face in concentration until her pink nose almost disappeared in cream-colored fur. Then she launched herself out of the tree, hung briefly in midair, and slammed into the neighboring branch. Cloudstar braced himself to leap down and help her, but Tansypaw managed to dig her claws into the bark and haul herself onto the tree.