He paused, sniffing the air like the other warriors and apprentices sometimes did. Dawn was coming. He would go out before the dawn patrol.
Swiftly, he dashed for the bushes. When he was again sure no one was watching, he ran out of camp towards the Fourtrees.
The Fourtrees was an enjoyable talk for the elders. They told the kits about the Gatherings that were held every full moon, almost teasing them. Crowkit always protested that was not fair, teasing them and talking about Gatherings when they couldn't go yet!
Four majestic trees stood before him. He spotted the rock where the elders said where the leader would stand. The WindClan rock! He stared in awe, before a thought flashed across his mind.
He scrambled onto it, trying to stand and pretend he was the leader.
Crowstar! Ooh. That's nice.
He tried to climb, but he was simply too little for it. A four moon old kit could not climb the gigantic rock.
But he didn't want to give up. He kept groaning and scratching the rock, in poor attempt to climb.
Crowkit was too concentrated onto climbing the rock that he did not hear coming pawsteps and mews. But now the voices were near enough for him to hear.
"Hey – do you hear that?" A tom's voice asked.
More pawsteps were heard, but Crowkit ignored it. It's my right! Fourtrees is neutral territory. Anyway... aww, this rock won't... He soon forgot the voices, caught up in scratched the rock, with claws failing to grip on to the slippery rock.
"Let me guess. Crowkit, right?"
Crowkit turned to see two pairs of friendly faces. "Oh – hi!" he said cheerfully, relaxing at once.
"You mind telling us what it is you're doing, exactly?" A black cat with a white-tipped tail asked.
"I want to see what it's like to be a leader!" Crowkit meowed enthusiastically. But then he shrank in embarrassment. He added gingerly, "But, uh.. can't climb the rock."
"Your Clan is looking for you, you know. They're all worried sick about you."
Crowkit sighed. "I don't know why They don't take any notice of me."
"Well, they do now." A black and white tom replied.
"Come on, let's go find your Clanmates." The black tom suggested.
While they were walking to the moor, Crowkit meowed, "I could've figured out how to climb it, y'know. You just didn't give me enough time."
"Yes, yes, it's all our fault."
The black tom amused Crowkit, and he felt so relaxed around them. They didn't give high expectations like the rest of WindClan. They all expected him to be like Deadfoot, the great deputy. As much as he loved his father, even though he never met him, he sometimes wished his father was a normal warrior.
These cats were friendly and natural to Crowkit, and he loved it.
"Step lively, kit. The fast you're black with your Clan..." The black tom, mewed, shuffling out of the bushes, "...the faster everything settles down."
There was a roar, and Crowkit flinched. What's that?
"Uh-oh... I don't like the sound of that..."
"Might be a little late for things to settle down," The black and white tom remarked dryly.
"Hey, I think I hear Mudclaw!" Crowkit exclaimed, perking up his ears.
They rushed through, searching for the voices.
Two groups of cats were snarling at each other. Crowkit recognized the scent of WindClan, and a murky, strange scent.
"Don't try to deny it!" A brown tom snarled. "You crossed the ThunderClan border!"
"I don't deny it, Dustpelt!" Ashfoot was snarling. "Now what have you done with Crowkit?"
"Oh, accuse us of that one more time you rat! See how fast I take your head off!" Dustpelt retorted.
"These cats do nothing but fight!" The black and white tom muttered.
The black tom stepped forward. "It's okay! Everyone! It's okay! We found him!" he huffed. "No need to fight!"
Dustpelt turned. "Ravenpaw? What are you doing in WindClan? have you joined them now?" He glared at the black tom.
"There you are!" Ashfoot ran towards Crowkit, nuzzling him. "Thank StarClan you're safe!"
Embarrassed, Crowkit shuffled away. "Aw, hey, that's enough! Get off of me!" But he felt affection towards his mother, feeling sorry.
The WindClan patrol led him to the camp, and he watched the two cats, one of them called Ravenpaw, follow the ThunderClan cats, and he wondered why the loner or rogue had a Clan name, and why he was still a 'paw. He was the size of Whitetail, only slightly bigger.
What would happen to them?
But he couldn't worry about the two loners. He was in trouble.
As soon as Ashfoot knew he was fine, she turned on him, glaring. "Come," she mewed curtly.
Crowkit dropped head, watching sideways at Ravenpaw and his companion, talking and soon following the ThunderClan patrol.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
