Prologue:
A white she-cat crept through the bushes surrounding the tall stone walls of the camp. Ledges arched upwards towards the night sky. The she-cat could hear the soft breathing of sleeping cats from inside the camp. Her heart was pounding now. She didn't have much time left.
She carefully prodded the bundle of fur at her feet. The tan kit cried out mournfully; it was hungry.
"Icy, hurry up."
A pale orange tom slipped out from the darkness on the she-cat's side. He was looking behind him, his green eyes wide with fear. Icy sighed heavily and licked the kit on the top of its head. Then she picked up the scrap of fur and carried it to gorse tunnel entrance of the camp.
"You're sure this is ThunderClan's camp, right Spark?" asked Icy, gently laying down the kit. Spark nodded. "I'm positive. Let's go Icy. She'll be fine."
Icy glanced down at the tan kitten meowing sadly in the grass. She hoped her kit would have a better life here. She hated leaving her only child but she knew she had to. Icy stepped away from the kit and walked towards Spark. The two cats turned to leave but a voice stopped them.
"What do you think you're doing?"
A brown tabby tom with a white tail was standing at the entrance of the gorse tunnel, looking at the tiny kit.
"Take good care of her," cried the white she-cat.
"Icy, run!" Spark said, darting off into the trees.
The brown tom skirted around the kit and began to rush over to where Icy was standing. Icy looked back at her kit one last time and then charged away through the trees, following her mate. The brown tom started to run after the fleeing cats but the tiny kit gave another pitiful cry as she lay in the grass. The tom turned, torn as to whether he should help the kit or chase the cats. When the kit began to mew louder, he sighed and padded back to ThunderClan's camp entrance. He picked up the kit by the scruff of its neck and carried it into the camp.
The tan kit opened its tiny pink mouth and yawned, its white paws churning in the empty air.
The brown tom peered down at the bundle in his mouth. Poor thing, he thought. It's barely a week old. Why would its mother abandon it like that? He wondered.
Somewhere off in the distance, an owl hooted.
Icy and Spark tore through the forest, weaving through the dark tree trunks, racing towards the lake.
"Will she be safe?" panted Icy, looking back briefly.
"Yes, yes. Stop worrying," Spark chastised, breathing hard.
The two cats leapt over a tree stump. Icy kept the image of her little kit in her mind as she ran. She would never even get to name her. Icy's white pelt shone in the moonlight but her eyes were dark with grief.
It's for her own good, though Icy. I hope she understands…