The sun was low in the sky. The cool night air was settling over the forest with grace while the sky turned from a warm blue to a milky orange. Wispy clouds scattered the sky while the a moon, a silky white orb, snaked into the sky with agility.
The prey pile was cold. What did the grey and silver she-cat expect? She slept in, now her prey would be stringy and stale. She carefully selected a vole for herself.
The camp was empty. The younger cats lay still in their dens. Coldfall felt a pang of jealous worming about in her belly. She missed being a young warrior of Shadowclan.
With a wistful sigh, she turned towards the elders den. Dawnshade was entering, wriggling her white streaked rump as she squeezed in, other than that, there was no movement in camp other than Jaggedstar watching over his clan proudly.
The elderly she-cat followed her denmate closely. The squat bush tangled in lichen and bramble rattled with snores and the well near silent mutters of gossiping she-cats. The smell of herbs here was strong, as well as the sweet stench of flowers.
Coldfall pulled herself inside, blinking drowsily.
"Coldfall?" a creaky voice piped up. "Come over here, Tallstem has some news to share!"
Grudgingly, the grey elder teetered over to greet the voice. Ivyfoot was curled lazily over her nest, a wince scrunching up her face and her old blue eyes watery and tired.
She took a seat in the fairly dry, warm sand next to her. Tallstem, a big silver-tabby was casually grooming herself. The smell of mousebile and flowers was strong on her coat. Nettlepaws was next to her, laying on her side with her young, blind golden eyes glittering.
"So," Tallstem began, flicking her tail nonchalantly. "Lizardfleck is expecting. Everybody in the clan believes they're Ravencatcher's."
Coldfall's heart dropped into her belly. "My nephew? He would never impregnate the bastard kit of Yewfoot! She's got the heart of a grumpy badger and the mind of a mouse!"
Nettlepaws' blind eyes seemed to flash. "Now, Coldfall! As terrible as she is, we can't talk bad about -,"
Tallstem snorted.
"Terrible is an understatement! She's an altruist, a derisive she-cat with no sense of compassion! There's no way she'll be able to raise decent kits." The silver warrior cried to Nettlepaws' disdain.
Still believing the impossibility of the circumstances, Coldfall inquired; "What proof is there that Ravencatcher is the father?"
Tallstem blinked. "None, really, other than the fact that Ravencatcher and Lizardfleck left and returned to camp together. Lizardfleck seemed nervous, as did Ravencatcher at first, but upon their return, each donned a snit and Ravencatcher's claws were out."
Coldfall felt some of the weight snake off her shoulders. "Thank the stars there's still a chance he isn't involved with that wretched cat. I'm surprised you haven't had a fit, Ivyfoot, with what the rumors about your son and all."
Ivyfoot's eyes were unfocused and angry.
"I don't believe my son would impregnate such a disgusting cat," the silver elder hissed. "I'm furious with the accusations! I'd bet my pelt that the kits look like Troutpool of Riverclan, Owlpaw said she saw her getting cozy with him, anyway!"
The elders were silent for a moment.
"I'm not going to indulge myself in anymore of this drama," Nettlepaws sniffed, curling away from the older cats. "Gossip all you want. When the sunsets, she's still our clanmate."
Coldfall nodded her agreeal. Padding away from the knit of elders, she collapsed in her nest and heaved in a sigh. This kit business was bad news.