The soft murmur of rain on the pine needles of a balsam fir covered the desperate mews of the two newborn kits sprawled underneath. The small tree they were hidden under all but obscured the black and tortoiseshell pelts of the young kittens, noticeable only by those truly looking for anything out of the ordinary. The scent of blood of fear tinged the air, melding with the light perfume of the latest of the leaffall storms. The dirt and grime of the leaffall droughts were disappearing with each fat droplet that landed on the ground, but there wasn't enough rain to wash away the blood on the ground.
"You're sure this was where you saw the loner?" The voice that came from a ways away was muted by the rain, but very obviously feminine in nature. The disgruntlement that tinged her tone was a result of the endless downpour of rain, enough to make even the most tolerant antsy.
The voice that responded was much more masculine, but instead of being disgruntled, like his companion, he was quite defensive. Despite this, the melodic way he spoke was the most distinguishing aspect of him, impossible to ignore even as his voice rose in volume to be heard over the din, "Yes, I'm sure! It was just over there!" Rounding a tall cedar tree came a gray tabby tomcat, rough and scarred but still walking with his head held high and proud. Beside him walked a lighter gray tabby, her build the same though her head was low and ears laid flat in disgust.
"If you're lying to me I'll have your head later," she hissed, flicking him with a soggy tail in a way that could only be mastered by familiarity. It was a soothing gesture, meant to reassure him. She could sense the hurt her words had caused him, and was apologetic. He pushed his muzzle into her shoulder, apology accepted. The siblings, for siblings they were, decided to split off and look for the rogue cat that had been spotted on RainClan territory, wanting to get their duties done with as swiftly as possible.
The male approached the area he'd seen the calico rogue at on dawn patrol, nose wrinkling in disgust at the stench of blood. It didn't smell like prey blood, and the scent was too strong. Uneasiness made his fur stand end, until he spotted the prone figure underneath a decaying log.
"Mothflight! Come here!" he hissed, ears flattening against his skull. His sister quickly turned from where she had been investigating and trotted over. The touch of her tail of his shoulder told him to stay on guard while she approached the figure.
"Dead," Mothwind announced, looking up from the calico form splayed on the ground, grimacing defiantly in death. "From birthing, it seems."
The tomcat's eyes widened, and he approached the dead mother. "Birthing? Then where are..." he fell silent as, for the first time, he heard the weak mewls of the struggling kits. The rain increased in it's intensity, like StarClan themselves were trying to prevent the discovery for the young ones. Unfazed he followed the sound, carefully parting the branches of the tree, wincing unhappily as the sharp needles pricked him in the cheek and chin. "What mouse brained cat would give birth in here?" he hissed, finally separating the branches enough for his sister to slip inside. After a pause he did the same.
"She must have had them here and tried to go out and hunt. I imagine the birthing went bad and she didn't make it far. Poor sweet. Come, Rockfall, you take the black. I'll take the tortoiseshell. Redstar will want to see them." The silver queen gathered up the smaller of the two kits, a little gray tortoiseshell she-cat, padding off before her brother could object. He wouldn't anyways. Old and grumpy as he was, he loved kits all the same. These were RainClan kits now, and under RainClan protection. Gathering the black tomkit, he followed, wincing from the sharp stings of the needles all the while.
"When Ash and Rain meet under the dark moon, fires of betrayal will rift the land and the forest will burn anew," the words, softly spoken, were ominous and dark to the ears of the RainClan leader. A memory, they woke him from the darkness of sleep, just in time to see his two oldest warriors pad into camp. His eyes, just barely open, narrowed now in suspicion, and the large ruddy tom watched from where his nest lay under two towering boulders. Highstone, his gathering place, was at the apex, reachable only by the spiraling stones that led upwards through the overhanging boulder in the back of his den. At the moment the bloody downpour had caused it to flood slightly, flushing him to the front of the den.
"Rockfall, Mothflight, come here please," Redstar rumbled, not leaving his spot at his den's entrance. He shifted in his moss, ears swiveling to better hear the reaction of the Clan. He could hear the murmurs of his warriors and Clansmates, and knew his gut instinct was right. With his warriors came trouble.
He smelled the kittens before he saw them. They came with the stench of blood and death. "Where did you find these kits?" He growled, finally sitting up from how he had been laying. "I will not abide kit thieves in my Clan," his voice, starting already as a growl, grew into a dark rumble. He felt satisfaction as his warriors cringed back, ears flat. Their scent of fear and outrage reassured him against his fears. "Not that you would do such a thing," he continued, lowering his voice to be more pleasant.
The warriors, sensing their brief test was over, relaxed. Gently they set down the kits, looking at their leader. "Their mother was a rogue, killed in kitting," Rockfall spoke up, indicating the two mewling forms in front of them. "I spotted her on dawn patrol this morning, but didn't realize she was close to giving birth. Otherwise I would have pursued her then and brought her here."
"And why did you bring them here now? They are two more mouths to feed with leafbare fast approaching, and they're loners besides. Even if they are applicable for warrior training, who's to say they won't betray us as soon as they learn of their heritage?" Redstar's amber eyes closed, as if battling himself deep inside, wondering if he was evil for thinking of leaving the kits to die. Gravely, the green eyes reopened, waiting for his warriors' explanations.
"They will be nearly apprentices by the worst of leafbare, able to hunt for the Clan rather than hinder it. Should they ever learn of their heritage I'm sure they will be thankful, not angry. We could make them into excellent and loyal warriors, I'm sure!" Mothflight was pleading, almost desperate. Never able to find a mate and have kits if her own, she was already becoming attached to her nameless charges. Rockfall saw and was worried. Redstar was manipulative and cunning, he might use these kits as leverage against his sisters.
The leader, thankfully, was not paying attention to the she-cat warrior. His eyes were on the kits, ears perked forward in interest. "Who will care for them? They have no mother to nurse them," he purred softly, looking up at the two warriors. He was feigning ignorance, knowing full well that Morningsong had given birth two days prior to a single kit.
"Morningsong-" Mothflight began, but Rockfall cut her off, shaking his head. It was a test, he knew it.
"We'll arrange everything for them. If we can't care for them we'll take them and leave them to die, as you would wish," dipping his head, the elderly gray warrior waited to see if that was what Redstar was wanting to hear.
Chuckling, the red tom nodded. "You know me well Rockfall. Very well. What will you name them? I will introduce them to the Clan tonight." Gone was the intimidating leader, and in his place was a long-time friend, eager to expand his Clan and his abilities. With new blood would come new strength and insight, as well as giving his good friends something to occupy themselves with. Both had seen their chances pass by, leaving them nothing. This would be good for them.
Rockfall gazed down at the young black tom that mewled at his feet. He hesitated, then meowed, "Slatekit, for this one." Slatekit, named for his black and silver fur, just long enough that Rockfall knew he would be a long-haired looker when he came into his prime.
"And yours, Mothflight? What does your young charge strike you as?" Redstar's green eyes focused on the amber eyes of Mothflight, who was in turn looking down at the squirming tortoiseshell at her feet.
"You shall be…" her voice faded as she crouched, looking at the kit at eye-level. Her eyes softened, and she nodded to herself, decision made. "Her name shall be Ashkit."
"Ashkit?" hissed Redstar, standing abruptly. The fur on his neck bristled as he stared down at the offending kitten. His two warriors, startled by the change in mood, crouched over the younglings, defensive of their new charges even if they knew not what they were defending them from. "Out with them!" he rasped, eyes narrowed in a crazed fury. "Throw them out into the cold, kill them in cold blood, I don't care! I won't have them in my Clan!" The tom was huge in the small den, eyes wild with a fear and anger no one understood but himself. "I give you until dawn tomorrow to dispose of them. Otherwise I will do it myself."
Turning tail the large red tom disappeared into the flooded den, wanting to be alone rather than confront the kits and his fear. When Ash and Rain will meet under the new moon, fires of betrayal will rift the land and the forest will burn anew. Not under his watch.
"What was that about?" Mothflight was shocked, staring after the disappearing leader. "What did I say? He was just fine with them!"
"I don't know," Rockfall replied, shaking his head in bemusement and fear. A prophecy that they didn't know about? "But he meant what he said. Come on, let's take them to Morningstar to nurse while we decide what to do. We can't just kill them now. Not after we've named them."
Not before they'd named them either, Mothflight wanted to growl, but did as her brother offered instead. Best not to argue about that now. The kits' fates had to be decided.
"We have to take them to another Clan, it's the only answer," Mothflight murmured, looking at her brother from baleful amber eyes. Her head was resting on her paws, her body aching from lack of sleep. She hadn't slept she dawn the day before, and soon it would be rising again. They had no more time.
"Raising them as loners-, no that wouldn't work. They need to be nursed. You're right. They have to go to another Clan. Which one, though?" Rockfall's own green eyes closed in thought and his body stilled. His twitching tail was the only sign of life. Finally, he heaved out a sigh. "You know what I'm thinking, don't you?"
"StormClan," came the soft reply, anxious but determined.
"StormClan," he agreed with a sigh, eyes opening.
StormClan was the odd wheel out of the three Clans that inhabited the large and expansive territory that was split between the three groups of cats. RainClan, his own Clan, was the strongest and largest. They controlled the thick forests of oak and maple trees, which rapidly began to make way to the evergreens and rocks on the far western borders, where StormClan lay. Made up of stones and evergreen forests, it was riddled with birds to prey on and hare to hunt. StormClan was notorious for taking in loners and rogues, for being simple and desolate. The Clan was crazy and best avoided, the true outcasts of the forest. But the only other choice was SnowClan, which was no choice at all. SnowClan's home to the farthest north possible, half foothill and half moor. Aggressive and cruel, they never accepted outsiders. Any cats found trespassing on SnowClan territory were attacked on sight, and often those captured were never returned to their Clans. StormClan was the only option.
"Shall we go, sister?" Rockfall asked, rising to his paws. He ached, oh how he ached. He was old, even for a warrior. He was supposed to join the elders soon, supposed to live the rest of his life easy. Now he was choosing self-exile to help two kits he didn't even know.
"Stay here, Rockfall," Mothflight pleaded suddenly, rising to her own paws. "Stay here, brother. Join the elders, live happy. You don't need to leave this. When the kits are apprentices I'll bring them to the border for you to meet. You don't have to give this all up if you don't want to."
Rockfall was bewildered by the sudden outburst, but it suddenly began to make sense. "Mothflight, don't worry about this. I want it, too. Let's go get the kits, and get going. Redstar will be coming soon, and we don't want him to find them."
They entered the nursery, taking up the individual kits they carried. Sated and full now, they made only brief murmurs of complaint. The rain was finally slowing as they left camp, becoming a light sprinkle.
Rockfall stopped only once, looking back forlornly. Goodbye, Redstar. You aren't our brother anymore.