The feeble sunlight of the rising sun shone weakly through the light layer of mist, causing drops of dew to glimmer as they caught the light. The sleek shapes of SkyClan's dawn patrol slid through the trees, their eyes bright and watchful. The bracken-coloured cat that led the other two had his jaws parted, his eyes narrowed as he tasted the air.
"What is it?" The gray she-cat meowed, stopping in her tracks and flicking her tail out to block her apprentice from moving forward. "Sunstripe?"
"A loner, Feathermist," Sunstripe replied, wrinkling his nose at the sharp, unfamiliar scent. "Not fresh, but I'd say they were here sometime during the night."
"Are we going to fight?" The young cat asked eagerly, his eyes bright with anticipation. He was kneading the ground with excitement, ears pricked for any sound of movement. "I want to practice my battle moves, I bet I could take on a dumb loner!"
His mentor flicked his ear with her tail. "Hush, Nettlepaw," she said sternly. "Loners aren't as dangerous as rogues, but one would still be more than a match for a half-trained apprentice."
"And besides, it seems as if they're already gone," Sunstripe said. But even as he said this, he stared deep into the bracken, looking thoughtful and puzzled. He had caught a faint whiff of an unfamiliar cat scent, neither SkyClan nor ThunderClan, even though they were right by the border.
Just then, a tiny wail shuddered through the air. Sunstripe stiffened, straining his ears and nose. Beside him, Feathermist's eyes had gone very wide, and even Nettlepaw was being uncharacteristically silent. Another faint cry sounded from the undergrowth, from where Sunstripe had identified the strange scent.
Sunstripe bounded forwards, pawing delicately at the fronds. A flash of sunlight glanced off of a silver pelt as he did so, revealing the milky scent of a very young kit. A kit barely hours old was curled in a tight ball, shivering and letting out feeble little cries of distress.
This is not a clan cat, Sunstripe realized, staring at the kit's fluffy silver pelt and unusual black markings. What queen would abandon their kits?
Feathermist came up beside him, silent as she took in the scene.
"Sunstripe, what do we do?" She whispered, almost horrified at the idea that a kit would be left to die on its own.
The kit squirmed towards their scent, blinking open misted blue eyes that were dazed and confused. Sunstripe bent down to sniff it, and couldn't help a purr when it attempted to nuzzle into his touch. The kit carried no scent of any clan, and its mother was nowhere to be seen.
"We keep him," Sunstripe decided. "It has been a hard leaf-bare, and Ebonyflower has plenty of milk since two of her kits died. SkyClan would do well to have more kits."
Feathermist shot him a knowing glance. She knew that was not his true reason – she had caught the way his eyes had softened at the sight of the kit. Sunstripe's mate and two kits had both perished in the bitterly cold leaf-bare, all three having succumbed to greencough.
Sunstripe knew that it would be very difficult to convince SkyClan to take in a kit who was not their own, even though the warrior code told them that kits were the responsibility of all. But he hoped that his own status as a senior warrior and future deputy of SkyClan, along with the lack of kits in the nursery, would persuade the clan to accept the kit as a member of the clan.
He gently picked up the feather-light kit by the scruff, feeling it go limp in his hold, and started back to camp. Feathermist and Nettlepaw followed him silently and without question.
Life has already been harder for you than most, little one, he thought. But may SkyClan be a safe haven for you…Havenkit.