Somewhere in the leaf litter, something stirred. Stoatwhisker heard it before he saw it. A slight rustling gave it away. "It's probably a mouse." He thought to himself. "Or maybe a bird pecking for insects." He opened his mouth to taste the air, but found no scent of mouse or bird. Or really any prey scent at all. And yet the sound persisted, quiet and muffled, but still there.
Curious, Stoatwhisker followed the sound, tasting the air all the time. If it wasn't prey, then what on earth could it be? Padding further into the forest and away from the rest of the hunting patrol, the sound grew louder, and all of a sudden, was accompanied by another sound. It sounded like… mewling. But surely there was no animal in the wood that would make such a sound? Unless it was a baby fox. Stoatwhisker shivered, his brown fur fluffing up, but then relaxed when he searched for the scent of fox and found none. Instead, he detected a sweet scent. Almost like the milky scent that permeated the nursery back at the camp. He dug his claws into the dirt, surprised.
Stoatwhisker padded the last few tail lengths, and finally located a tiny shape moving about in the dead leaves. He sniffed once, twice, and crouched on his haunches, watching the shape carefully. It moved once more, and then was still.
After a moment of consideration, Stoatwhisker reached out a paw to brush the leaves aside, and what he saw there made him freeze.
There, lying amongst the rotting leaves, was a little kit. Barely a few days old by the look of it. It's pelt was glossy and smooth, silvery grey with tiny dark spots peppering it.
It's little chest heaved with the struggle of it's breathing, and when Stoatwhisker lowered his head to nudge it, it was ice cold. As carefully and as quickly as possible, he picked it up by the scruff of it's neck and sprinted back towards the camp.
When he finally reached the thorn entrance, he pushed his way through and carried the kit directly to the medicine cat's den. Inside, Sootpelt was busy sorting through piles of herbs. At the sound of the bramble entrance being pushed aside, he spun around. Seeing the unfamiliar kit, he blinked, startled.
"Stoatwhisker?" The question hung in the air, sharp in the dusty silence of the medicine cat's den.
Carefully, Stoatwhisker placed the tiny kit down in a nearby nest usually reserved for sick Thunderclan cats. "I found it in the forest all alone. I don't recognize the scent. It's not from any of the other three clans."
"So it's a loner's kit?" Sootpelt murmured to himself, hurrying over to the silver scrap of fur. He nudged it over onto it's side and began to lick its fur in the wrong direction. He paused only to say; "Start licking, Stoatwhisker. We need to warm him up."
"So it's a tom?" The brown cat asked, blinking at the medicine cat. He waited a moment but got no reply, so he bent his head and started to lick as well.
Sootpelt didn't give any indication of having heard him at all, far too focused on his task.
After a long few minutes, the medicine cat rose his head. "Keep licking." He told Stoatwhisker. "I just need to find…" He padded off over to his herb stores and began pushing them aside one by one, as though he was looking for something. After a moment, he purred triumphantly. "I didn't think we had any left, but here we are!"
Stoatwhisker looked up from licking the kit to see Sootpelt carrying a bundle of herbs in his mouth. He dropped them beside the nest.
"But this kit is too youn-" Stoatwhisker began to speak, but was interrupted.
"It's not for the kit, it's for Dappleleaf. These borage leaves will help her produce more milk to feed him. You carry the kit, and I'll carry the borage." Sootpelt picked up the herb bundle again and looked at the brown tom expectantly.
The dusty grey medicine cat was small and unintimidating. Even smaller than some apprentices despite being twice their age, but no Thunderclan cat dared to disobey when he told them to do something.
Quick as lightning, Stoatwhisker picked up the little tom by his scruff again and followed Sootpelt out toward the Nursery. The kit seemed to have regained some strength now that he was warm, and was wriggling and mewing loudly. It was clear he was very hungry, and Stoatwhisker wondered if he'd been fed at all since being born a day or two before.
Upon entering the Nursery, the two cats found Dappleleaf curled up in her nest, her calico tail curled around a single tiny white kit nuzzling close to her belly. Her ears pricked up when she saw the kit they carried.
Sootpelt placed the borage down. "How is Hollykit, Dappleleaf?"
Dappleleaf tilted her head at the grey medicine cat. "She's doing fine. Eating well enough." She purred softly and swiped her tongue over the tiny she-cat's ear.
"That's good to hear. But I've actually come to ask something of you." As Sootpelt spoke, Stoatwhisker placed the kit down on the mossy floor of the Nursery. It's wriggled a little, mewing softly and nuzzling into the warm moss. "Stoatwhisker found this kit in the wood. It's warm now but hungry, and I'm not sure how long it will last without being fed. My best guess is it's only a day or two old." Sootpelt bent to nudge the kit toward Dappleleaf with his nose. "Would you feed him? You're the only queen in the clan right now, so you're the only one who can do it."
Dappleleaf didn't hesitate, a soft purr rising in her chest. "Of course I will."
As gently as if he was one of her own kits, she lifted the tiny tom by his scruff and placed him beside her own new kit next to her belly. The two kits were nearly the same size, and the little tom began to feed almost instantly, Hollykit following suit a moment later.
As Sootpelt began to give Dappleleaf the borage, Stoarwhisker turned back towards the entrance. "I'm going to speak to Swiftstar about this." The deputy said, bowing his head toward the medicine cat and the queen, and then turning and disappearing through the bramble tunnel.
Entering Swiftstar's den, Stoatwhisker found the clan leader about to leave. He stopped when he saw his deputy though, fur ruffled and tail twitching. "Swiftstar, I have news." Stoatwhisker sat on his haunches, watching with wide yellow eyes.
Swiftstar sat down as well, and Stoatwhisker noticed that his cream pelt began to fluff up. "While on hunting patrol, I came across an abandoned kit. A tom, only a few days old."
At these words, Swiftstar allowed his fur to lay flat again, though his tail flickered back and forth. "A kit? Do we know which clan it belongs to?"
"I don't believe it belongs to any clan. It has no scent I recognize, and there was no other clan's scents anywhere near where I found it." Stoarwhisker paused before continuing. "I took it to Sootpelt, and now Dappleleaf is feeding it."
Swiftstar nodded, considering for a moment. "One of the other clans may know something. I'll bring it up at the next gathering. But… until then…" He paused again, as though considering his next words carefully. "... Until then, Dappleleaf should go on feeding it. As long as she is still agreeable that is."
Stoatwhisker nodded carefully. "And should we… should we give it a name? It seems unlikely that it belongs to another clan… and…" he stopped, frowning a little.
Swiftstar tilted his head at his deputy. "Alright. You shall choose the kit's temporary name." He paused, and then added "-Though it may already have a name if we find who is belongs to."
Stoatwhisker blinked respectfully, and then turned to pad out of the den, the clan leader following behind.