Sablekit has found the best spot in camp, and she's not sharing. In fact, it's the grass behind the medicine den, all at once its smell perplexingly clinical and redolent. They're four moons old, barely, brother and sister and far too friendly with each other where all prying eyes are concerned.
He pounces at her, demanding her surrender. Sablekit has promised that the tiny grassy tunnel she's discovered is amazing, and he wants to see it. Why shouldn't he, when everything she sees, he sees? An exclusive litter of two- no one has ever told them that this is a lie, and no one ever will, they've lived and breathed the same life for moons.
"What's the password?" the black kit giggles, breathless.
This is the day before Thornstreak takes him away. He spends days, hours, puzzling over the password, until the day it becomes unimportant, until the day he forgets.