Red Maple

chapter 7: all of you

"WATCH THIS, LARCHKIT!" Wrinkling her muzzle in concentration, Petalkit (the pale brown she-cat) gripped the bundle of dry moss in her jaws and shook it violently.

Larchkit (the dark brown tom) grabbed the moss from her and tossed it across the clearing. Both kits scrambled after it, but before Petalkit could reclaim the moss, Bloodkit (the dark ginger tom) leapt on top of it. "Mine!" he declared.

"Don't you want to join in?" Mapleshade asked Patchkit (the ginger-and-white tom), who was lying in the curve of her belly. His fur matched hers so perfectly that it was impossible to tell where one stopped and the other began. "It looks like they're having fun."

Her son shook his head. "I'm fine here," he mewed. He snuggled in a little closer. "You need me to keep you warm, don't you?" His orange eyes – so much like Redriver's – blinked anxiously at her.

Mapleshade stifled a purr of laughter. She could barely feel his tiny body against hers. It was a rare cloud-free day in the rain-washed leaf-fall, and the sunbeams were just strong enough to bring cats out of their dens to bask, though there was a chill in the ground that warned of leaf-bare just around the corner.

"You're doing a great job," she told Patchkit. "I might have to share you with the elders to stop them from getting cold."

Patchkit's eyes grew wide with alarm. "No! I want to say with you forever and ever, even when I become an apprentice!"

Mapleshade nuzzled his head. "That won't be for another four moons, little one. By then you'll be so big and strong, you'll be glad to leave the nursery and start your warrior training."

"No, I won't," muttered Patchkit, burying his face in her chest fur. "I never want to leave you."

Petalkit, Larchkit, Bloodkit, Firekit (the fiery ginger tabby tom) and Sandkit (the sand-coloured tabby she-cat) were standing around the moss.

"You've ripped it to pieces!" Larchkit protested. "It doesn't roll away now, look." He prodded the pile of dusty brown shreds with his paw.

Bloodkit shrugged, rolling his amber eyes. "It was trying to escape and I caught it."

One of the elders, a grey tabby named Rabbitfur, padded stiffly over to the kits. "Looks like he killed it," he observed. "Want to play a different game?"

"Yes, please!"

Rabbitfur used his front paw to roll a small stone into the middle of the clearing. Then he nudged a twig with his nose until it lay a bit less than a fox-length from the stone. Mapleshade propped herself up to watch.

"I want you to stand by this stick," Rabbitfur meowed, pointing with his tail, "and pounce on that stone without touching the ground between."

Sandkit blinked. "But that's almost on the other side of the clearing!"

"I'd have to grow wings to jump that far!" mewed Firekit.

"Don't be mouse-brained," snorted Rabbitfur. "Your father could leap twice that distance and land on the smallest leaf without disturbing a fly."

Mapleshade felt a stir of alarm in her belly. Beside her, Patchkit sat up and tipped his head to one side. "Rabbitfur's really bossy!" he squeaked.

Petalkit was crouching down beside the twin, wiggling her rump as she braced herself for the jump. With a grunt, she heaved herself forward, but her hind paw caught on the stick. She lurched sideways, snapping the twin, and sprawled on the ground at Rabbitfur's paws.

"Humph!" he muttered. "Try again."

This time Petalkit managed to clear the stick but she barely made half of the distance to the stone. Rabbitfur shook his head. "You try, Larchkit," he rumbled.