"Memory is a strange thing." Fogheart purred, her words muffled by her fur, and the trembling hides of Rootkit's siblings. The three of them were buried into Fogheart's fur, trying to escape the bitter cold that had dug into their den. Surrounding them, frozen mud and stones were built upon by a layer of long withered grass and reeds. The shriveled plants had lost their comfort, and Rootkit was frightened he might freeze without his mother serving as a barrier between them and the cold.
"It is easy to forget things that are terrifying once they are over." Fogheart's voice was barely a whisper lost in the harsh winter howling, but Rootkit strained to hear it.
"I need you to hold on to this memory. Kits born in Greenleaf don't understand why we chase the sun till it sets. It's because bright days are limited, and a cold night will always return."
Rootkit's pelt bristles, not fully understanding that the outside could be as warm as Fogheart's embrace.
"When light returns, and the sun shines, don't let it get away from you."
Fogheart's somber blessing rings in Rootkit's ear, until it is slowly drowned out by the silence of sleep.
—-
Fogheart was right. None of the nights that followed were more cold or difficult. After a half moon had passed, the choking white blanket of snow over the camp had started to dissipate. With each passing sunrise, Rootkit wandered further from her side. They were still confined to the nursery, the entrance of which was still mostly sealed by packed mud and branches. Whenever a stone tumbled from the barrier, Rootkit was the first to peer through the crack.
"What do you see?" Crickkit whispered, her wide green eyes shining with curiosity.
Rootkit flicked his ear dismissively at his sister, doing his best to try and smell or hear through the tiny gap.
Without a response, Crickkit flicked her light gray tail in front of his eyes, prompting Rootkit to blink and hiss with annoyance.
Distracted, Rootkit couldn't brace against his brother, who swiftly shoved him aside to take a look for himself.
"Hey! Drownkit! That's not fair!"
Drownkit was the smallest of the three, but his energy let him keep up with the other two during play. He had a mottled brown pelt, the most similar to their mother's. He seems a bit guilty to have shoved Rootkit so abruptly.
"F-fine, you're right. We should just make this gap bigger so we can all look." Drownkit says, trying to extend a claw into the gap to scratch at the opening.
"You will do no such thing."
The grumble came from further back in the den. The noise of their arguing roused Fogheart from her slumber. Rootkit shrinks at his mother's stern tone, while Crickkit dashes to her side to plead.
"Please Mother? We just want to see the light you promised."
"All things in their own time." Fogheart grumbled. "We still don't know if another snowfall could be on its way."
Their mother stirred, parting her jaws wide in a deep yawn. Her dense long fur made her seem far larger than any of the kits, and Rootkit drew comfort from her imposing presence.
"Our clanmates patch that wall every dawn for us. You shouldn't spoil their hard work for a peek."
"But you spoil it for meals." Drownkit mumbles, earning him a sharp glare from Fogheart.
She huffs out a low sigh.
"At sunrise I'll let you each peer through when our prey arrives."
Rootkit cheers with his siblings, the promise filling them with excitement. Rootkit tumbles onto Drownkit, tussling with him as they let their imaginations run wild.
"Who do you think will bring us prey? They'll be the first clanmate we meet face to face!"
"I hope It's Wiltsong!" Drownkit answers. Wiltsong was their father, and the cat the three had spoken with the most through the entrance. Rootkit was disappointed his brother would pick someone so boring.
"What about Author Greystar?" Rootkit chimed in. "This could be the first time we see our leader!"
"Anyone but him" Crickkit whined. "I don't want the first time I'm seen by an Author to be when my head is sticking out of a hole."
Rootkit pauses, he hadn't thought that far ahead.
"Nonsense. Greystar has more important things to do than deliver us prey." Fogheart hisses, curling back into a resting position at the center of the den.
Rootkit and his siblings continued to guess what they might see, up until the ray of light from their peep hole had vanished.
—-
The kits waited by the mouth of the den eagerly. Bunched together side by side, they awaited their mothers signal from ahead of them. She dug gently at the base of the entrance, meeting another paw mid way through the barrier.
"Good morning Fogheart." the voice from the other side called.
Rootkit strained, but he couldn't recall who the voice belonged to. It was someone new.
"I've brought you some prey, and Torntree asked me to offer you some comfrey in case you're feeling stiff."
Drownkit was already sneaking towards the opening, but sprung back when a clump of strange flowers was shoved through.
"Thank you Gravepaw. Before you reseal the entrance, my kits would like to see outside."
"Really? That's good news! I'm not in any hurry."
A mouse drops through the opening, and Fogheart drags it and the comfrey back to her nest. Rootkit shoulders past his siblings, shoving his head through the gap.
His nose wrinkles as cold air stings his face, but he braves it. Opening his blue eyes as wide as he can manage, he looks up to see the face of one of his clanmates, Gravepaw.
"Hello little one." Gravepaw greets, her eyes squinted with delight. Her black fur was in stark contrast to the sunlit snow beyond the mouth of the den.
"You have light tan fur, so you must be… Rootkit?"
"That's me!" Rootkit beamed, happy that his clanmate already knew who he was.
"Your name is Gravepaw right? That means you're a Page?"
"Yes it does. I'm training to be a Scribe in fact." Gravepaw's pelt ruffles with a bit of pride.
"But, you're so big. I thought pages were my size."
"You're not entirely wrong…" Gravepaw winces. Her fur flattens quickly as she becomes embarrassed.
"Scribe Pages have to train longer than normal Pages, so yes I'm older than most paws."
"Will winter be over before you're a scribe?"
"Most likely, I still have quite a ways to go before I know all of our Book's symbols by heart."
"Symbols?" Rootkit squeals curiously. Gravepaw responds by pointing down to the ground in front of the den. Beneath the page's paws was a mud-scrawled symbol. A circle the size of a paw pad with a set of small pointed ears. The symbol was written in a dark pigmented soil, and it had a scent similar to the prey Fogheart was savoring.
"Is that… blood?"
"Well scented little Rootkit. Our symbols are made from a mixture of prey blood and mud."
"What does it mean?"
"This one means 'kits'. It tells all the other books that this is where our kits are sheltered."
"Why would we tell the other books that?"
"No book is cruel enough to attack kits, and so places with this symbol are avoided by invaders. Crossing that boundary would mean that that cat has disobeyed the book written in the stars."
Rootkit's mind swirled with a flock of other questions, but a sharp prod in his side silenced him with a grunt. Gravepaw's whiskers twitched with amusement.
"You'd better give your siblings a turn. There will be plenty of time for more questions when you begin your training."
Rootkit pulled himself back inside with a huff. Gumpily, he padded over to his mothers side. He started pawing at the prey blood that had pooled beneath Fogheart's claws.
"Was it not what you were hoping to see?" Fogheart whispered quietly.
Rootkit fiddles with the blood, trying to recreate the symbol he'd seen outside. "It wasn't… enough." Rootkit grumbled.
"It will have to be enough for the next two sunrises." Fogheart sighed. Rootkit sensed that she was finally relenting.
"Two sunrises? Does that mean it will be warm enough to go outside?"
"I think it will be." Fogheart let a purr of amusement escape through her usual grim expression.
Rootkit nearly pounces out of his fur as he bounds to go tell his brother and sister.
"And Rootkit-" Fogheart growls, prompting him to pause. "Mischievousness makes snowfall more likely, so behave yourself."
"Yes, Fogheart!" Rootkit chirped, bounding back to the mouth of the cave.
—-
Those two days felt like they would drag on forever, But Rootkit did his best to remind himself that he'd already waited through the worst of winter. When the sun finally shone through the gaps of the worn barrier, Fogheart gave her kits permission to leave. The first figure to greet them at the mouth of the tunnel was Wiltsong. He carried a large raven in his maw, pride showing on his face as he presented it to his mate.
"Wiltsong, it's so good to finally see your face again." Fogheart purred, pressing her face against Wiltsong's shoulder.
Wiltsong placed the raven at her paws and spoke. "I've missed you more than the sun, Fogheart. How about a walk through the marsh to stretch your legs?"
"Can we come?" Drownkit chirped, rushing to his father's side.
"Not quite yet." Wiltsong purred. "I know you are eager to explore Drownkit, but the territory outside of camp is very dangerous, especially to kits. I need you to stay within the camp's walls." Wiltsong pointed his tail to the tips of the hills that wrapped around the camp. The steep slope would be hard to climb even without snow on the ground, but the slopes did give way on one end of the clearing leaving a single opening. The hills reminded Rootkit of his mother's body laid upon the ground, with the camp nestled safely at her belly. Two bare trees stood at the apex of the sleeping cat's spine, creaking in the brittle air.
"How about you try this instead." Fogheart nudged the raven towards them. "Now that we're out of the den, it's time you got used to fresh prey for every meal." pinning the bird with a forepaw, Fogheart took a mighty bite from the beast's belly, exposing the softer parts for her kits to try.
Crickkit padded forward, and cautiously took a bite from the creature. "Delicious!" she managed to meow before starting another mouthful.
Rootkit was about to step forward for a bite of his own, when he felt Drownkit's paw on his tail.
"Do we have to do that now? I'm not hungry." Drownkit complained. He shot Rootkit a glance as if prompting him to agree.
"M-me neither, could we explore the camp first?"
Fogheart sighs. "Don't leave the prey for too long or it will dry out, and stay within the scent of the bird. I won't be gone long."
Before Drownkit could dash away, Wiltsong crouched beside him. "When we get back, I want you to teach me all the games you came up with in the nursery. I was a winter kit too, so I can show you some of my old favorites."
Drownkit mewed with delight, but Rootkit was already padding away. He'd played plenty of nursery games, the camp was far more interesting. As he padded away from his kin, he realized that there were several cats watching all around. It felt both strange and comforting to be watched, and it felt like the whole of the clan was waiting to see what the kits would do.
Drownkit hopped through the shallow snow and caught up with Rootkit. Looking back to their sister, Rootkit saw her tail happily flicking as she took more bites from the raven.
"She can catch up later!" Drownkit muttered, sprinting up the slope towards some of the other dens.
Together Drownkit and Rootkit explored the dens, poking their noses into each of the crevices. Each den was dug into the hillside, loosely obscured and sheltered from the wind by a collection of twigs. The spaces were much larger than the nursery, and Rootkit found the number of cats inside them to be quite daunting. Then there was the elders' den for the retired warriors, closer to the heart of the hill, but it was sealed off similar to the nursery. A grumpy growl from inside scared Drownkit and Rootkit from investigating it any further.
With most of the camp explored, only two dens remained. One loomed high above the rest, too high to climb, with a stone outcropping just beneath it.
"That must be the highledge, and greystars den" Rootkit whispered, Afraid of awakening their author.
"Then what about that one?" Drownkit said, Pointing with his tail to the last cave opening.
Rootkit paused for a moment, trying to think of what was left to see. "It's the scribes' den!"
So satisfied with remembering that important detail, Rootkit let his excitement carry him away. He ran for the entrance of the den as quickly as he could, before slamming against a cat with a long black coat. Rootkit shrunk back as he looked up to see a pair of fearsome amber eyes.
"By the written book, Watch where you're going!" the cat exclaimed, the hostility in his tone made Rootkit press his belly deep into the snow.
"S-sorry." he managed to squeak, and as the black cat's eyes fell upon him, Rootkit saw a glint of recognition.
"Ah, so you are one of Fogheart's kits? Gravepaw mentioned you were a pawfull."
"Yes, I am Rootkit."
"Well Rootkit, there will be no kits in the scribes den unless they are unwell, is that clear?"
"I understand…" Rootkit felt his curiosity begin to overcome his fear. "Are you Gravepaw's mentor?"
The scribe looked at Rootkit with an impatient scowl. "Yes, I am Torntree, scribe of the scrawled book. It is my duty to mend what is broken, and to interpret the signs and symbols of our book."
"Interpret? Don't you know what all of the symbols mean already?"
Torntree's whiskers twitch, as if he is weighing the importance of the conversation. "When you become a page, you will see that our book is far greater than any single symbol. There is a vast collection of them beneath our paws, and the ways that they are aligned reveal a great many truths."
Rootkit marveled at that idea for a moment, before realizing with a jolt that he could no longer scent the raven.
"I-I'd better go, sorry for running into you!" He turned tail and dashed back to the center of the clearing just in time for Fogheart and Wiltsong's return. There he found Drownkit and Crickkit cleaning raven from their paws, and he settled down beside them to taste his first fresh kill out in the open.
—-
The camp was exciting at first. Their clanmates would go out of their way to greet and play with them, but after a few days of the new routine, everything had settled back into being mundane.
As Fogheart shared tongues with old friends, Crickkit stuck close to her side. Rootkit watched them with mild skepticism, still baffled by how quickly Crickkit learned all the new names and faces.
"It's not that difficult." she told him, through mouthfuls of mouse. "If you look close enough, Everyone has something that ties them to their name."
"Deerstripe has long lean legs, Kindlenose's voice sounds dry and creepy-"
"Crickkit. Don't be so rude." Foghearts stern hiss cut off her daughter's gossip.
"I wonder if Kindlenose thinks of you as the kit with the stiff back." Rootkit teases. His sister's nose scrunches with frustration.
"My name will mean much more when I'm a warrior."
"It means plenty now." Fogheart corrected her kit, leaning over her and drawing the two close.
"I named you and Drownkit after very painful fates, because no cat has ever died from something they were named after."
"That doesn't make any sense." Rootkit mumbles.
Fogheart shoots Rootkit a challenging glare. "I suppose you'll have to ask one of the scribes. The book scrawled in blood holds all of our ancestors, and how they came to pass."
"If you want to prove her wrong, you'll have to find a way to die from roots!" Crickkit teases, squealing as she dives onto Rootkit and initiates a tussle.
—-
"Rootkit! Come quickly!" Rootkit was pawed awake rather abruptly from Foghearts side. Drownkit was batting him lightly. "Come on! We're going to miss it!"
"Miss what?" Rootkit groaned as he stumbled up.
"The dawn patrol!"
Without another word, Drownkit shot from the nursery, and Rootkit stumbled to keep up behind him. Still groggy from sleep, Rootkit lost track of his brother, only for a pebble to tap his right shoulder. Looking in the direction the rock came from, Rootkit spots Drownkit at the top of the highledge, peering over the camp walls. Excitement surged through Rootkit as he slowly climbed to keep pace with his brother. Once at the top, the two could see the gathering patrol near the camp entrance, guided by their father Wiltsong.
"Look there, they are bringing prey blood." Drownkit whispered, flicking his tail to two warriors, each carrying soaked ravens.
"They must be making symbols. What kind of mark would need that much blood?" Rootkit whispered.
"They are marking the marshes." The growl came from behind the two kits. Fur standing on end, Rootkit and Drownkit spun to face Greystar, the leader of the camp, and author of the scrawled book.
Too stunned to run, the kits froze as Greystar approached. His eyes softened as his expression was drawn into daylight. He wasn't a ragged leader by any means. In fact, his face was younger than Foghearts. Still, Rootkit found his voice was much more commanding. It always carried a deep growl, even in the most friendly of circumstances.
"As the snow melts and the frost gives way, some portions of the marsh turn into deadly traps. Your father is going to try and find thin ice before it can break beneath us, and mark it so we all know to avoid it."
"That's so brave." Drownkit mumbles, attention shooting back to the patrol as they begin to speed out of camp.
"Once they make it safe, could we go and explore?" Rootkit asked.
Greystar's face turned stern. "We may call it home kits, but the Scrawled territory is one of the most treacherous. If you were to wander outside, thin ice would be the least of your worries." Greystar rises to his paws, signaling with his tail for the kits to follow.
Greystar leads the two down into a muck soaked tunnel. The drag trail of a large object stained the entrance with blood. Rootkit felt himself start to tremble as he peered into the darkness of the tunnel.
"Come kits, It is already dead."
Peeking in cautiously, Rootkit sees the giant gray body of a creature he'd never seen before. Feathers dotted the pit, each speckled with blood.
"This is what they soaked the ravens with." Drownkit muttered.
"Its teeth are huge…" Rootkit whispered, circling around the creature to get a better view of its face. Maw agape, blood fresh in its mouth, and eyes still wide with fear, the creature looked pitiful despite its size.
"This is a wolf, and it is not the first to wander our territory." Greystar mumbled grimly.
Rootkit shuddered. Fogheart had mentioned such beasts in her stories, but she'd never said how big they were.
"Are we supposed to fight that? Why do we live here if it's so dangerous." Drownkit asked, turning to Greystar as he led the two kits out of the pit.
"You won't have to fight wolves right away Drownkit. You will have plenty of time to train and hone your skills."
"Adversity and danger are what define the scrawled book. We stare beasts like that one in the eye because it makes us stronger. Other books would back down or run from such a threat, but we rise to fight them."
Rootkit wasn't so certain about that, but Drownkit's ears seemed to perk up.
Inching closer to the wolf, Drownkit stood tall. He moved past the beast's nose so that he could see its open dull eyes. From the side, Rootkit could easily imagine the wolf springing back to life, and devouring his brother in one gulp, but the beast lay deathly still.
"I'll take one down someday. I just know I will." Drownkit promised, managing to lay his fur flat.
Greystar purred, touching each kit's nose with his own encouragingly.
"I'm sure that someday you will get that chance to be brave, and your clan will thank you for it. But for now, you should get back to your mother, before she starts to worry you've been eaten by the wolves."