"Never had I seen someone look so lost in their own home."
The cold and long seasons that everything in the far North endured drove creatures to different states of desperation. For NorthClan, a creature invading camp for even a taste of the prey they had caught was something that happened too often for any cat to let their guard down around the fresh-kill pile; or, really, in the camp in general.
Oakkit had heard stories of it happening, of course, but she hadn't expected it to happen when she was still a kit. She hadn't expected it to happen when her and Creekkit were playing mossball, and when a DraftClan apprentice was waiting for Miststar to return to camp to decide what to do with him.
But it did.
She didn't get to see it enter camp, too focused on her brother and her game, but she did hear it once it was inside. She snapped her head around to look at it, her eyes rounded in shock and a sudden, overpowering fear.
The fox was larger than a cat would be, with white and bristling fur that blended in almost seamlessly with the snow. Amber eyes were glazed over with hunger - it was thin enough that Oakkit could see its ribs through its pelt. Instantly, cats were on it, scratching and clawing and biting, but the fox was starving. The cats attacking it didn't make it stop trying to get to the fresh-kill pile even for a heartbeat.
What did make it stop, though, was the sight of two unprotected kits, frozen in place and only able to stare.
As if she had been summoned by the fear her kits felt, Tanglewhisper stood protectively over her kits with a snarl that the tabby kit was sure could send the other four Clans running with their tails between their legs. When had she woken up and left the nursery? Oakkit wasn't sure, but she was oh-so-glad that she was here now.
The fox lunged, and Tanglewhisper countered with a strong strike to its muzzle. The fox staggered just slightly and shook its head, lifting a large paw and hitting the queen - with a surprising amount of strength for such a thin creature - on her flank, making her stumble and left her kits open. A warrior, one that Oakkit recognized at the back of her mind as Stagfur, clinging onto its fluffy tail with her claws and teeth didn't stop it from snapping its jaws at the kits.
Oakkit was frozen in place. Creekkit tried to leap out of the way, but that didn't stop the fox's jaws from clamping down on one of his hindlegs.
The fox lifted its head, shaking it back and forth and bringing Creekkit with it. If it were possible, Oakkit's eyes widened even more as she watched her brother. She barely processed a tortoiseshell shape clamping her jaws around the creature's neck and a gray one barreling into its side. With a cry of pain, Creekkit fell from the fox's jaws, and Oakkit didn't bother watching the rest of the fight as she rushed towards her brother.
"Creekkit?" She lifted a paw, nudging his shoulder gently. He coughed and let out a whimper in response. She sniffed, feeling tears burning in her eyes, but she did her best not to let them fall. "You gotta get up, Creekkit, you gotta. You won't be any fun when you're hurt, so you gotta get up!" She sniffed again, turning her head to look at the mangled mess that was his leg.
Blood covered all the fur that was left, and it looked like the fox had bit down so hard it reached the bone. His paw was facing the wrong way, towards the ground rather than forwards. She looked away, feeling sick to her stomach, her eyes catching onto his face. His green eyes were closed - was he asleep? Oakkit looked back at the fox, nearly dead, with the tear-blurred figures of Lionrock, Stagfur, Stonepaw, and her mother all standing over its body and watching as its blood stained the white snow.
"Mo-mom," Oakkit sobbed. Her voice sounded different when she was crying, she dimly noted, and she could feel the hot tears she had been trying not to let fall make their way down her face. The queen turned away from the fox, a small smile on her face as if she was ready to comfort her, only to tense and her face shift into a horrified expression as her eyes landed on her son.
"Where's Featherripple?" her voice came out in a yowl - something Oakkit had never heard from Tanglewhisper before - and she could see her claws dig into the snow. At the sound of his name, the ginger tom stuck his head out of the medicine den, eyes narrowed until they landed on Creekkit. The ear that had a chunk of it missing twitched (something that Oakkit had always found cool, especially for a medicine cat, but she didn't care about it now; not as long as he could help her brother), then his bright green eyes flicked back to the older tortoiseshell and sharpened.
"Bring him inside," he ordered, then disappeared back inside the den.
Her mother hurried towards her son, picking him up gentler than she had ever handled either of her two kits before, then made her way to the medicine den. Oakkit had the feeling that she wouldn't be allowed inside, so she stayed where she was, sniffling and crying. No cat came up to her, so she sat alone in the middle of camp, waiting.
She didn't know what she was waiting for, only that she was.
No time seemed to pass before Miststar and Brokenpaw padded into camp, and she paused at the entrance. Her eyes zeroed in on the fox that had yet to be moved out of camp. "What happened?" she asked, her voice filled with all the authority of a Clan leader, much different from how it was when she had been speaking with her, Creekkit, and Tanglewhisper in front of the nursery.
Lionrock padded up to her, explaining the situation to her in a quiet tone. Behind him, Stonepaw seemed to be nervous, his tail flicking back and forth.
"Tell Featherripple to come to me when he's done treating Creekkit," Miststar ordered. Lionrock dipped his head, and the she-cat turned her attention to the apprentice. Sniffing at the air, her eyes narrowed. "Why is a DraftClan apprentice in our camp?"
"We found him in our territory," Stagfur meowed. Flecks of blood from the fox had yet to be groomed from her dark brown pelt, and her yellow eyes were serious. "He didn't tell us why he was there, so we brought him to camp for you to decide." She glanced back at the apprentice, and after a moment of hesitation she spoke again. "...But he did help to fight the fox."
Miststar nodded her head, taking a few steps forward to stand in front of the gray tom. "What's your name?"
"Stonepaw," he responded quickly.
"And you helped my warriors fight a fox," she added.
He nodded. "Yes, Miststar."
Slowly, the blue-gray she-cat nodded her head. "Then as our thanks, we'll let you go home with no punishment from us," she told him. "But I can't promise the same for Cherrystar. Brokenpaw."
The brown tom perked up, attentive. "Yes, Miststar?"
"I'm trusting you to bring Stonepaw to the border. Don't cross, and wait there for a DraftClan patrol there. Be sure to tell them about him fighting the fox for us," she instructed. Finally, she turned her head to look at her apprentice, and she offered him a small smile. "Consider this your first assessment - just come back with prey once you're done."
An excited look lit up in Brokenpaw's yellow eyes as he nodded. He offered a respectful "Yes, Miststar," then gestured for Stonepaw to join him with his tail, and the two toms padded out of camp.
Oakkit wasn't sure how long she sat there. For a short while, Stagfur sat beside her, her tail curled loosely around her much smaller form, but she said nothing. Miststar sent a few concerned looks her way, but she found herself caught up in sending cats out to bury the fox and arrange something - patrols, she supposed - with Frostfang. As soon as Deerburr had padded into camp, he was told about Creekkit, and he had vanished into the medicine den.
Without Creekkit, there felt like there was nothing to do in camp.
It was only when she started to shiver that Tanglewhisper padded out of the medicine den, sitting down next to her and pressing their pelts together. Oakkit lifted her head, blinking up at her mother.
"Is Creekkit gonna be okay?"
Tanglewhisper sighed. "We don't know yet," she admitted, her voice soft. "Featherripple says it's in StarClan's paws, now."
"How important is StarClan?"
"It depends on the cat." Oakkit followed her mother's gaze, her eyes landing on the moon, cresting over the top of the trees. "There're more important for medicine cats than for leaders, and more important for leaders than for warriors."
"How important are they to you?"
"I think the same as a lot of other cats do," the tortoiseshell told her. "Survival's hard. StarClan can't help us very much, other than occasional advice and give leaders their nine lives."
The two of them felt silent for a long while, staring up at the sky. Oakkit burrowed into her mother's pelt, turning her head to look up at her. "Do you think StarClan is going to let Creekkit heal?"
"Let's hope so, Oakkit," Tanglewhisper mewed softly. Carefully, she got to her paws, brushing her tail against the fur on her daughter's flank. "Now, come on. You need sleep."
Oakkit followed her without argument.