Mistyfoot and Silverstream crouched low among the reeds, watching a few birds peck ineffectually at the frozen ground in search of food.

The two cats slowly went in opposite directions, putting the birds between them, and then Mistyfoot sprang, startling the birds into flight away from her, and straight into Silverstream's waiting claws. The silver-furred tabby managed to smack two of the birds out of the air amidst the flock, and grabbed a third's wing with her teeth. By that point Mistyfoot had joined her and finished the kills.

"Nicely done," Silverstream purred, pulling feathers from her claws before spitting them out of her mouth.

"And to you as well," Mistyfoot replied, watching the remaining birds vanish over the treetops, tail twitching. She then gathered up two of the birds, and the two returned to camp, bringing their catch to the clan's fresh-kill pile.

Featherkit and Stormkit came rushing over, pelts fluffed against the cold as they pounced on their foster mother, purring and welcoming her back.

Featherkit pulled back and wrinkled her nose, eyes crossed to stare at the feather that had appeared there. Sneezing it away, she blinked at Silverstream. "When do my feathers come in?"

Silverstream blinked as Mistyfoot smothered a laugh, and Stormkit rolled his eyes. "She's been hunting, mousebrain."

"Stormkit," Silverstream chided gently. "There's no need for that. It's a harmless question, and I guess I didn't get all the feathers off before coming home."

Featherkit looked rather disappointed, but swiftly lost interest after Silverstream started grooming her and Stormkit trotted off. Mistyfoot watched him go and twitched her whiskers. The kit put up a strong front, but he was fiercely protective of his sister and was eager to apply that same zeal towards the clan.

"They're growing up quickly." She looked back at Silverstream, who was nuzzling Featherkit. "But then again, aren't we all?" she added, more to herself, before heading out again.


Russetstar walked along the north edge of ShadowClan territory. It wasn't one patrols often covered, given its nearness to Carrionplace and unknown territory, but sometimes dogs, foxes, and other cats strayed across it.

Russetstar sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose. Even in Leaf-Bare an acrid smell hung in the air, and she was about to complete her patrol and return home when fresh cat-scent wafted across her. She stopped, ears coming up and turning as she looked around. Tasting the air, she determined the direction of the smell and started moving slowly towards it.

Before she got more than a few paces, however, a ginger cat abruptly came into view. The tom blinked in surprise and took a step back as Russetstar's hackles lifted, and she bared her teeth at the intruder. Yet even as she did so, a nagging sense of familiarity tugged at her.

"Who are you?" she asked warily.

"My name's Jake," the tom replied, flicking his tail in greeting, green eyes seeming to glitter. "You must be one of the clan cats that live around here."

Russetstar narrowed her eyes. The cat's name seemed familiar and she dimly recalled a story told among the clan elders at Gatherings about a tom that had had dealings with the clans long ago. But surely the cat standing before her wasn't the same one?

Brushing the thoughts aside, Russetstar nodded at him. "I am Russetstar, leader of ShadowClan. What business do you have here?"

Jake shrugged. "No business, just passing through some old haunts. Is Tallstar still around?"

Russetstar blinked at the wistful tone in the cat's mew and wondered what their history was. "He is," she mewed. "Although you're too far east for WindClan."

"So that'd be on the other side of your territory," Jake mewed, looking past her for a moment before meeting her gaze. "And obviously you aren't going to let me cross your territory to get there."

"No, I'm not," she mewed levelly. "You'll have to go further north and then west, around Carrionplace."

Jake grimaced. "And risk getting attacked by whatever calls that place home in this cold. Not the most appealing idea, but territory and borders are important, and you wouldn't want to look weak to the other clans by just letting strangers waltz through."

"You'll be leaving here with scratches if you keep that attitude up," Russetstar idly noted, flexing her claws.

Jake took another step back, whiskers twitching. "Fair enough. I shall take my leave of your generous hospitality, and wish you the best of luck in this weather." He looked over his shoulder at a sky thick with dark clouds. "There's probably going to be snowfall tonight."

"Thank you for your concern, but we're used to it."

Jake simply nodded and turned north before padding off, tail held high. Russetstar watched him before shaking her head with a snort and resumed her patrol.


Gray Wing watched the tabby as he hunted. He was a powerful hunter, fast on his paws, lightning-quick despite his size, and easily able to disappear amidst the grass with his striped fur, its few white patches blending into the starry mists.

"You've been watching him for a while now," came an amused mew from behind Gray Wing, and he turned to see Turtle Tail padding toward him. "Should I be jealous?"

"Why would you be jealous?" Gray Wing asked, causing the tortoiseshell to snort and roll her eyes. He nudged him with her head affectionately and the two purred warmly together.

"It's just curious to see someone new after so long," Gray Wing mewed. "I've heard stories about the ancient lake territories, but I'd thought all the cats from there had faded long ago."

"I wonder what it's like, to be forgotten completely," Turtle Tail murmured. "Is it like dying again?"

Gray Wing glanced at her, but couldn't think of anything to say, so he looked away, fur rippling. They watched a few familiar cats pad by – Jagged Peak and Holly, Tall Shadow, Wind Runner, and a yellow-eyed ginger Gray Wing recognized as a newer addition to StarClan.

"Sunfall's gotten used to StarClan quite well, don't you think?" Turtle Tail asked, following his gaze.

"Not surprising, given how often leaders speak with them throughout their lives," Gray Wing pointed out. "There's nothing to really fear in death, knowing this awaits."

"I can think of a few things to fear," Turtle Tail mewed, raising her brows. "What with not being able to have kits born in StarClan."

"I… Well that's…" Gray Wing spluttered. Turtle Tail giggled and nuzzled him warmly.

"Come on, I can hear Half Moon telling the old stories again, and I always love hearing them."

She bounded off and Gray Wing cast a glance back at the tabby, who was now carefully plucking the feathers off a bird he'd caught. The tabby flicked his ears in Gray Wing's direction, but didn't look away from his task.

Gray Wing's whiskers twitched in amusement before he followed after his mate.


The tabby watched the gray cat leave out of the corner of his eye, and then frowned as he resumed his task.

"Not a fan of feathers in your teeth?" mewed a voice, startling him. He looked up to see Tailchaser poking his head out of a patch of ferns.

"Not particularly," the tabby replied. "They're also rather dry."

"Then you might want to try waterfowl," Tailchaser mewed.

"Too oily," the tabby snorted. "I hate birds."

"He said, while catching one," Tailchaser mewed dryly. The tabby shot him a barbless glare before chuckling.

"Fair enough," he meowed, batting the bird towards the pale ginger tom, who caught it under a paw.

"Have you considered giving yourself a name, at least so we know what to refer to you as rather than just "the tabby from the lake territories"?" Tailchaser asked.

"Can't say I've given it any thought. Why, do you have a suggestion?"

"Something with bramble, probably, given the state of your fur."

The tabby glanced at his disheveled pelt. "In my defense, I was hunting."

Tailchaser snickered. "True. You do tend to be rather meticulous with it otherwise." He flicked his tail thoughtfully, before continuing. "How does Bramblefrost sound? The white in your pelt brings to mind patches of snow once the weather starts getting colder."

"Bramblefrost," the tabby repeated. He blinked. "Although I could've sworn that one of Tigerclaw's kits is currently named Bramble-something?"

"Something tells me cats here won't mistake you for him, if that's what you're worried about," Tailchaser mewed dryly. "Besides, there's already no fewer than four Robinwings in StarClan already."

"I don't know whether to be impressed or concerned about that," Bramblefrost meowed, getting to his paws. He stretched, flexing his claws and gave himself a shake. "Well I guess I should start telling cats I have a name now."

"Shall I take the left half of StarClan so you don't have as much work?" Tailchaser asked teasingly, before dodging Bramblefrost's retaliatory swipe.