Rhythm

Come down to the willow tree and quiet river

Where the swifts and the doves mingle

There it was again. The strange notes, like an eerie song of a bird. Flickerwing often hunted around this corner of the forest just to hear that.

The she-cat was aware that yes, she was hunting too close to Outsider territory. And that yes, all MazeClan cats were supposed to hunt near the fields, not the forest, but this sound – it was too intricate, too melodious, too scrumptious for the ears to not disobey orders. She had to beg Havenpelt to let her go on solo hunting trips to throw off suspicion from other warriors.

Then again, maybe bribing the clan deputy, Havenpelt, with fresh moss bedding (which the warriors' den lacked) and fresh-kill for those solo hunting trips was gaining her a few glances from her clanmates.

And today, after a moon of trying to piece together clues, Flickerwing was going to find the source of this melody.

The thick-furred molly cautiously prowled into the small grove of trees. Mostly willow trees grew in this specific part of the forest, and its shade provided marvelous shelter from heat during green-leaf. The shaky whispers of the willow leaves also provided great background noises and created a soothing, solemn mood. These conclusions had been made through several days and nights of observation by Flickerwing.

Today, once again, the elegant notes of the melody were flitting through the willow leaves, hanging there, and then dissipating into the hot air. Flickerwing slowly crept over to the trunk of the tree, careful not to disturb anything. She turned around the corner of the tree – then stopped.

The first thing to hit her was the overwhelmingly stark scent of Outsider.

Flickerwing gave a squeak of alarm and backed away, the grass crunching beneath her paws.

The feline whipped their head around to stare at her, jaws snapping shut. Silence abruptly hung in the air, the two cats staring at each other with wide eyes.

"Outsider!" Flickerwing gasped out at last.

"MazeClanner," the Outsider quipped, still in shock but somehow managing to make a retort.

"Oh – no, I'm sorry!" Flickerwing felt heat coursing beneath her fur. "I – just – uh -" The normally verbose she-cat was suddenly tongue-tied, unsure what to say. "Your voice was so alluring, I couldn't stop myself from listening!" she blurted out. "I didn't know you'd be a – well…"

"I - I prefer GorgeClanner," the cat murmured, speaking in that riveting, melodious voice. "But thank you." Flickerwing took a few heartbeats to take a proper look at the feline. The cat was a she-cat, Flickerwing realized, and was surprisingly dark-pelted, in a pretty shade of dark brown – most Outsiders were pale-colored.

"I'm sorry," Flickerwing repeated, "for surprising you." After a moment of hesitation, she added, "What do you call that… birdsong of yours, by the way?"

"Oh – it's singing." The she-cat perked up. "It's something we do in GorgeClan – I hate to boast, but I am really skilled at it."

"You are!" Flickerwing mewed, in awe. Then, more shyly, "Can you teach me how to do that?"

"What?" The Outsid – GorgeClanner blinks. "Singing?"

"Uh." Flickerwing shifted her paws. "Yes?"

The she-cat seemed to consider it for a moment. Flickerwing felt the heat rising up from the ground and to her head. By the skies, she hadn't been so anxious about a yes in her life! The warrior squeezed her eyes shut. "It's okay if you say no -"

"Alright."

Flickerwing's eyes flew open in relief. "Really?"

"Buh – but I have… uh, conditions!" the tabby stammered. "One – please don't tell… you know…"

"My clanmates? Well, duh!" Flickerwing chirped. "I kept sneaking into this forest a secret from them already!"

"You… what? Why?"

"Uh." Flickerwing felt tight in her own skin. "Our entire clan may or may not be allowed to come into this forest. Because of… the Out – I mean, GorgeClan trouble."

"O-oh."

A brief silence filled up the space.

"Another condition is that… you'll have to come out here twice a moon, when the moon is cleaved in half."

Flickerwing perked up immediately. "No biggie, I can' manage that!"

"And finally, you have to pass on the song to your kits if you have any."

Flickerwing paused at this. "Say what?"

"It's… it's just something that we GorgeClanners do, I guess? We pass on what we know, and… and especially what we're good at to… to our offspring."

RHYTHM

"Where the swifts and the – Bear, I forgot the rest of the line."

"Where the swifts and the doves mingle. Hey, at least you know the first line now!"

"But I can't remember the rest!"

"You'll learn, just like I did!"

"Is that another song lyric?"

"I don't know? Maybe."

The pair of cats were sitting under the willow tree, cheerfully half discussing, half singing things and phrases.

"Do you think you can make your own song?" That question seemed to stop Bear in her tracks.

The she-cat considered for a moment. "I don't know," she admitted. "This song has been passed down for generations, and that's the only reason I know it. I don't know if you can just… make up your own for no reason."

"But I still created my own one!" Flickerwing declared triumphantly. The dilute tortoiseshell point's fur was bristling with delight. "Only – I kind of wasn't able to make my own melody." The warrior deflated a bit.

However, Bear looked delighted at this. "That's wonderful! Let's hear it!"

Sheepishly, Flickerwing cleared her throat and began: "There are those who can speak and those who can listen, but before you do either, lend an ear within."

Bear gave a trill of delight. "That's wonderful!" she meowed. "You need a melody, is that it?"

Flickerwing nodded, eyes wide.

Bear inhaled deeply before letting out a river of beautiful notes and trills. Flickerwing felt like she was being swept up in a tide of beautiful sound, warmly enveloping her – and then it was just over. Flickerwing blinked once, then twice. Her grin grew wide.

"We need to figure out a way to make these songs longer."

RHYTHM

Moons later, Flickerwing gave purring rumbles to her newborn kits. It seemed as if one of them – a pale ginger tabby – had already caught onto the rhythm of the melody, giving mewls in return.

"Maybe," Flickerwing whispered quietly to the kits, "you're the one who will find a way to find the peace said in the lyrics – with this birdsong."

And no one ever has to shiver

And no one is ever alone.