The sun shone through gaps in the gorse, creating an illusion of tranquillity. However, in ThunderClan's camp, there was a frantic air. Sandstorm paced the clearing, calling for her daughter, while Brightheart stayed back with Leafkit, ensconcing her tightly to eliminate all possibility that she may disappear. Most of the camp's warriors were out; dawn and hunting patrols had been set by Graystripe, while Firestar headed a search. All apprentices stayed in camp, nervously flicking their claws in and out, eyes scanning the clearing for enemies. At sunhigh, Firestar came back, muddy, with his head hung low.
"We lost the scent. Her scent was last found with a rogue's, so…"
His nephew picked up where he had trailed off. "We don't think Squirrelkit survived the attack."
Sandstorm crumpled to the ground, tears silently pouring off her face. Firestar joined her, both sharing in the grief. Leafkit poked her head up from Brightheart's tail, amber eyes shocked, before mournfully joining her parents. The hunting patrols and border patrols arrived too, each hearing the shocking news.
The vigil was held that night. Sandstorm stared at the sky, eyes haunted, while Firestar lay next to her, his expression steely as he silently vowed to hunt down the rogue that had killed his daughter. Leafkit merely cried, unable to think as she reeled from the loss of her sister.
Slash awoke to the hubbub of Twolegplace and a pair of eyes looking coldly down at her.
"Come on. It's time to teach you the ways of a real cat."
She got up with a sinking realisation that this would be nothing like ThunderClan's apprentice training.
"Your first task is to get me a meal. You have until the sun reaches that building to forage one. Anything extra that you find after I have had my fill will be yours to keep."
He pushed her away and she bolted from the alley, intent on finding an exit so that she could go back to ThunderClan and just be Squirrelkit again. But the Twolegplace was confusing, the buildings towering over even the height of the Great Sycamore. The small nests that she had been told about were far away now and she realised that she couldn't escape. She was lost.
Fear of Ice propelled her to piles of rubbish, in which she managed to find a few measly scraps, not even enough to feed herself. By sheer luck she managed to find a leg of crowfood that a Twoleg had thrown out just before she was due to go to the alley.
"Pathetic." Ice hissed at her offerings. "This will barely feed me for this meal."
Slash cowered, wondering what her punishment would be.
"You did bring enough for one meal, though. You will not be punished but you shall not eat tonight."
She settled in her spot in the alleyway, stomach rumbling as she watched Ice tuck in.
"Of course any true BloodClan cat would know how to fight. So here, kit, are the three principles of fighting."
"Fight quick. Fight hard. Fight dirty." As he said this he ground her muzzle into the alley's flooring, a look of cold triumph spreading across his face.
He released her with a scratch to her face. "Always be ready for an attack. Let that scratch be a reminder to you."
She whimpered, licking the fresh wound and fervently wishing that Cinderpelt were here to clean her wounds.
A faint crying awoke her in the night. The keening came from no place in the alley. She paused, trying to be as silent as possible, but the cry persisted. She couldn't help this cat. The alley guards would surely tell Ice if she tried, and Ice had shown his brutality that day.
Still aware of the cry, she shut her eyes, trying to snatch some sleep.