Rusty stared out as the frost-covered ground in front of the barn, ears flat to his head. He felt a pelt brush against his own and he felt Barley's breath warm his cheek.
"Leaf-bare's here," the black and white-furred loner noted. "Here's hoping it's better than the last."
"That's always the hope," Rusty mewed with a sigh. "But they're all the same."
Barley shrugged. "Depends on who you ask." He ran an eye over Rusty's pelt, which had barely grown out to what he'd consider winter-length. "You're going to be absolutely miserable. Although if you keep active, it shouldn't be too bad."
"Oh sure, send the ginger out to hunt amidst the white snow, I'm sure that'll go great," Rusty replied.
"You're the best hunter here," Barley mewed warmly. "If anyone can do what seems impossible, it's you."
Rusty rolled his eyes. "You and I both know that's not true, but I appreciate the sentiment."
They both stiffened as the grass rustled, but their fur relaxed when Onewhisker and Morningflower nosed their way out of it. The two WindClan cats shook themselves, and nodded to the loners.
"Good day to you," Morningflower mewed. "How's the prey running?"
"Well enough," Barley replied, taking in their sleek well-fed appearance. "You seem all set for Leaf-bare."
Onewhisker snorted softly. "This'll probably be the fullest we'll get until New-leaf. The rabbits have already gone to ground." His eyes gleamed. "Should be easy enough to dig them out if the need arises though."
A smaller cat burst through the grass, startling all four cats. Morningflower turned a reproachful eye on the newcomer, who stumbled to a halt at her glare.
"Gorsepaw, you should know better than to crash through the grass like that. Is something wrong?"
The smaller cat shook his head, then flattened his ears sheepishly. "Sorry, just got carried away while on patrol, and then I found your scents and decided to follow them."
Morningflower sighed, closing her eyes. "Gorsepaw, we've been over this several times before. You don't have to follow every scent you pick up, whether it's cat or prey."
Gorsepaw crouched low, avoiding her gaze. Morningflower shook her head, shooting an apologetic look to the others. "I'd better head back." Her gaze lingered on Rusty thoughtfully, before she turned and herded Gorsepaw back towards WindClan territory.
Barley watched them go, tailtip twitching in amusement. "Ah, to be young again."
"You're barely three seasons older than me," Rusty mewed dryly. "You've got a long ways to go before you can start pining for the good old days."
Barley shrugged. "Given most of my old days at this point were during Blackcough, I'd probably be just fine not remembering them." He glanced at Onewhisker. "You've got a lot to look forward to, at least." He gazed out over the moorlands, which were dotted with patches of white. "Tallstar's done well with his clan."
"Been keeping up with the WindClan gossip, have you?" Rusty mewed, ears flicking in the chill air. "Outside of Morningflower having more kits, I didn't think anything else was happening."
Onewhisker shook his head. "You'd be right on that front. Everyone's just bracing for the coming moons." His fur rippled uneasily and he pawed at the ground. "Kits are going to have the worst of it."
Rusty's whiskers twitched. "They're strong, and they've got Barkface to look after them, and you and the rest the warriors to keep them going." He blinked at the young WindClan cat. "You'll be fine."
Onewhisker nodded slowly, before looking up at the barn. "I envy you having this kind of shelter, since it takes a lot of hard work to fortify the camp for winter."
"Can't you shelter in the tunnels during the cold seasons?" Rusty asked.
Onewhisker shook his head ruefully. "Tallstar doesn't want to risk a collapse, no matter how well-made the tunnel is. Besides, we don't know if that quake earlier has destabilized any of them, or if badgers or foxes and whatever else have moved in." He flexed his claws. "We'll make do without them."
Rusty tilted his head before nodding. "If it gets really bad, you're welcome to shelter here." Barley shot him a look, but didn't say anything, flicking his ears dismissively.
Onewhisker glanced towards the Twoleg nest across the field and wrinkled his nose. "I don't think my clanmates would like being so close to Twolegs."
Rusty followed his gaze. "Oh, they're harmless. They usually don't bother us and even leave out food if there's nothing worth hunting. Made getting through last winter a breeze."
"Don't let the clans hear you say that," Onewhisker mewed in amusement. "They'll be calling you a kittypet before long."
Rusty rolled his eyes. "Can you really picture me as a kittypet though?"
Onewhisker stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head. "Funnily enough, no. I think you'd be longing for the wild life within hours."
"Exactly," Rusty mewed, preening slightly. "I am a loner, born and raised."
"Depends on where you were born," Barley noted. "Although you just kinda wandered onto the farm one day, delirious from hunger, without a clue as to where you came from, and haven't left since."
"And I'm quite thankful for that," Onewhisker mewed gratefully. "Without you, I can't imagine where WindClan would be right now." He looked towards ShadowClan territory and shivered. "We owe you so much."
"You don't owe me anything," Rusty mewed. "I merely did what any sane cat would do when someone needed help."
Onewhisker didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the issue and returned home.
Silverstream and Graystripe shared a fish at Sunningrocks, pelt brushing against one another as they purred together.
Graystripe licked his lips and shook his head. "I can see why RiverClan likes fish." He wrinkled his nose. "A little much for my taste though, but the meat is very nice."
Silverstream blinked at him. "It's definitely an acquired taste," she mewed, brushing her whiskers clean as she began to groom herself. Graystripe tossed the remains of the fish into the water and joined her.
"Is RiverClan ready for Leaf-bare?" Graystripe asked, looking across the river. The silver molly followed his gaze, nodding happily.
"We should be able to at least get through the first week without much issue," she mewed. "It only really becomes a problem if the river freezes, because if a cat falls through the ice, they can get swept away from where they fell in and get trapped."
Graystripe shuddered. "That sounds horrible."
Silverstream nodded. "We tend to steer clear of the river if that happens, no matter how tempting a fat slow fish just under the ice may be." She wrinkled her nose. "Although there's always a hare-brained apprentice or kit who doesn't listen, so we tend to be far more vigilant of them during this time."
"Ah, you have those too?" Graystripe meowed. "I've heard some stories about kits that get impatient with wanting to be an apprentice and get it in their heads that if they go out and catch prey, then they'll be made an apprentice. They're usually smart enough not to, and leave it as a fantasy, but…" He shrugged. "They're impulsive."
Silverstream chuckled warmly, pressing her nose to his pelt. "Sounds like someone I know."
Their eyes met and Graystripe blinked at her. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing."
Silverstream batted at him with a paw, sticking out her tongue. "Run along, dear Graystripe," she purred. "Before you do something you regret."
Graystripe dodged her swipe and purred at her. "Of the many regrets I've had, meeting you was not one of them. Give my regards to RiverClan."
Silverstream watched him go, gazing wistfully at the forest before turning back towards her clan and family.
