~ The Old Tree ~

[Rolo]

Story Title: The Old Tree
Author: Rolo
Character(s): Best read ignorant. Highlight to read lNo-Ears (main). Mentioned: Gingerstar, Rainheart, Crowfeather l
Genre: Future
Rating: PG
Warnings: Death



Are you sitting comfortably? I should hope you are. I've been waiting for you young'uns to sit down for moons now.

I want to tell you a story, kits. It's a good one. You'll enjoy it. It might not have a lot of adventure, romance or comical escapades in it, but trust me, it doesn't matter. It's one of the my most important stories – in fact, it may be one of the most important ones you'll ever hear, dear ones, so do lend me an ear a while. You may regret it if you don't.

The problem with cats is they don't know what they have until it's gone. I'm aware that that's a saying an ancient badger said to me when I disrespected her back when I was an apprentice (because, yes, I really would miss the old, smelly, rude crow when she was gone!), and I remember turning my nose up at the time. But, it's true, albeit overused, so I'm going to repeat it to you anyway. Don't argue. I'm old. It's an elder's right to repeat these sayings 'til your ears fall off. Mine certainly did.

Cats are like kits born in the middle of greenleaf. Borne to a world full of sunlight, life and happiness, it's difficult to imagine a reality different to that. Sure, you might sneeze while sniffing a dandelion (That, my children, is something I don't recommend.) and you might get irritated with the incessant sun now and again, but all is happy. And it all seems so endless; you've never known different, you don't expect it to end. You don't realise that the season of decay and chill is just around the corner, that the full bellies you don't think about celebrating will soon become a thing of the past, or that the herbs that keep you safe will wither and die. It's ignorance at it's best, but it's a nice one. I forgive any kit who still has that innocence; we all do because we've all been there. I'm sure all of us would like to remember the awe we had felt when we first saw those flakes of white settling on the ground. I'm certain we'd prefer to experience that wonder eternally, no matter how ignorant, rather than anticipating the hardship the frost and ice will produce, the memory of the arctic chill that freezes our paws and the sensation of our nostril hairs crackling from cold. But, who wants to tell a kit that, one day, the forest will die in front of their eyes? We know it to be truth, but we'd rather keep it quiet, protect their innocence like we protect them from wandering predators. And remain strong until and during the time they must finally face the blizzard outside their birth dens.

Maybe, my children, that is why I hid the truth for so long. I wanted to be like the old oak tree by training holl- Yes, you know the one? The one every apprentice trains before, drawing strength from it's longevity. The one that never creaks and always blooms come newleaf. Eternal, faltering now and again, but eternal. And I succeeded, my dear ones. Perhaps some suspected otherwise, but they usually just supposed my branches had begun to rot, not that my roots had begun to wither.

It all started that Gathering. It was ordinary Gathering, yes. There was nothing unusual about it. Sure, some whippersnapper in Fogclan was causing a bit of a fuss, but that would be dealt with in due time. Not that I heard much about that. No, I was too busy battling fighting to breathe. For the first time, travelling to the gathering at the same pace as you children proved too much to me. It caused so much fuss among the Pineclanners, but I hushed them all. I'd assumed it was but a little shortness of breath, caused by pushing myself too hard... but, well, I wouldn't be mentioning this if that were the case, would I?

When you're old, children, everything starts to go. Your sight, your hearing, your joints. I was well used to that, I have been old for quite a while, after all. However, the loss of strength in my body in the moons following that gathering startled me. My mind had always been so sharp, but it began to fail me. My memory began to escaped my grasp. I never got my breath back.

But I continued. I knew I couldn't rest. I couldn't rest for a moment. Gingerstar, Pineclan, needed my wisdom and love. I pushed through the dizziness and did my duty. I still attended meetings every day, refused to be left behind on the eve of a gathering and told gripping tales to the newest clan members. I even did so with renewed vigour, attempting to fool my body into believing it was just as able as it had once been.

But then, leafbare came. I anticipated it's coming, as every warrior does. I knew that, although my heart belonged to Pineclan, life's falcon does not care what it is feeding upon, as long as it fills its belly.

Now, now, children. Don't you start yowling like that! It was about time I thought about leaving you all. When a forest is filled with trees, it seems almost impossible that the eldest tree, hardy enough to survive the chill of so many leafbares, could succumb to cold. But it must. Some day, it must fall if only so the saplings can see the unfiltered sunlight and have a chance to grow.

But I wasn't going to be felled easily. My lungs wheezed and ached - oh, how they crackled like dead leaves under a kit's paw! - but I kept going. My joints felt impossibly stiff, but I prevailed. I saw to my clan. And then, knowing that the odds might finally conspire against me, I decided to be resourceful with the time I had left.

I did things I had not done in years. I got up at the crack of dawn, I watched the sunset like a queen enamoured with romanticism (That, dear ones, is one I wouldn't recommend. If you have a choice between seeing a red sky and sleeping, the latter is far more useful and satisfying.). I took a stroll around the territory I had never truly explored (after all, exploring had lost its charm moons ago) and sat in the sun, remembering the trees and surroundings of Forestclan, my true home. Bitter though the last few moons in birth clan was, I had good memories of my life there, and I could still remember every tree and feature in that huge forest. I missed it.

I thought of all I had had and lost, appreciating every part of my life thoroughly. It left me feeling somewhat morose but strangely thankful. However, I knew that focusing on the past would help no one, and that the present was still a reality.

So, I then took the time to talk to every cat in the clan. Some had never exchanged more than two words with me, but I spoke to them. Sometimes the conversation was full of frivolous things, snow, romance and the taste of prey, but I always made sure it concluded them with some choice words. A compliment, a vote of support, an observation. Something I felt each individual should know about themselves and that other cats, in their ego-driven lives, might fail to mention until it was too late.

I felt closer to my clan mates, old and new, in those moments than I ever had before. It was then, after a day of truly cherishing my existance, that I realised that I did not want to leave you, my denmates.

I slept contentedly that evening, even if my rasping breath left me spluttering most the night (Sableheart enjoyed that!). I had left with them something to cherish for eternity, to keep them living until they got to – or even surpassed! – my age.

Now, none of you start whimpering. I know I am ill, very ill! I know that any breath could be my last! That doesn't mean you should start fussing over an old tom. Hush, hush. My tale is nearly done. Surely you want to hear the end? It is my last fable after all!

You all awoke one day to find the old tree leaning upon one of its younger companions. The roots had begun to pull free of the earth, but, to it was still standing and very much alive. You suspected I had a cold, and I did not argue. I knew you were wrong, but I saw no point in correcting you, Crowflower. You had much more to worry about in life than some elderly tom.

Confined to the medicine cat's den, I entered a time of great loneliness and suffering. My mind... it wandered from the current day. I recalled Orangespots. The serious, dutiful warrior, who deserved to live so much more than her scarred, cynical older brother. I was sorry, so sorry. I remembered Redtail. I saw her amber eyes, glimmering with light, her pelt, like a warm fiery glow. I remembered our love, the happy days in which we had eloped. And then, the faces of the kits, the many kits, I had not been able to recall come to my mind. I remembered the milk scent they all carried, the differing looks on their faces as they became apprentices and the sparkling and not so sparkling aspects of their personalities. I felt proud of them.

I missed them and I felt alone. It struck me then that I would leave existence leaving not one family member behind. Perhaps I had grandkits somewhere, back in Forestclan, but I'd had no hand in raising them. I was but a relic, symbolising the family I had once had. None would carry on after me, none would carry my name in their hearts. I would be forgotten.

Crowflower returned to my side and knew. He knew what every other cat had missed. Expression pained, he told you, Gingerstar. He told you what must happen, and you came to me. I ordered you to take me back to my real nest, and, humouring an old fool, you did.

Without my asking them to, the clan mates gathered. Pushing their way into my den, I saw their concerned faces. I was frightened, for now I must fall. I must fall. I must fall and my existence would vanish, failing to mean a thing. I was alone, so alone, when surrounded by all that I knew.

But then, the kits were pushed forward. They were the members of the clan I had not managed to see before my health had deteriorated, preoccupied as I was in my haste to help my older clan mates.

The kits did not understand what was happening. They seemed to realise that the mood was solemn, and their shoulders drooped. Why was their tale teller looking so sad? Would telling them a story cheer them up? Maybe one about Moosepaw, the snarky apprentice?

I looked into their young little innocent eyes, so concerned for my welfare although they did not, could not, understand what was wrong, and my mood began to change. I felt the heaviness on my heart being lifted away.

These kits, were not like at all like my own kin in body or personality, but I recognised the same unconditional love my kits had always shown me. They held none of my blood, or much knowledge of who I was, but they cared for me just as I cared for them.

I looked up at my clanmates and saw that same affection in most of their eyes. The emotion made my heart swell, and I felt better than I had in months.

I was not alone.

I might not be leaving any kin behind to follow my pawsteps, but I didn't need to. I had left behind something better: I had set the foundations for those living generations in the future. I had helped form a clan, a clan that lived and florished against the odds. I had watched over these kits as attentively as any father, and, if Starclan did prove to exist, I would do so for eternity for every soul born upon Pineclan soil. I might not be remembered generations from now, but the results of my actions would exist for longer than any cat could calculate, which was far greater than anything I could have hoped for in life. I could rest knowing that, for once in my life of mistakes, I had done right.

I sighed contentedly.

Gingerstar, unable to comprehend my leaving her, begged me to stay. But, as Rainheart propped her head up with his own, I knew she'd be alright. Gingerstar was ready to lead without me, and the clan was prepared to bloom.

So, I breathed my last and left my nest without a limp, led on by the fire-coloured female I'd lost so long ago.

The old tree fell, as all trees must do. But, do not fret! Because, you know what, my kits?

Every newleaf, the forest is reborn.