Chapter Text
Things were changing in WindClan, bit by bit. It was expected for a clan with a new leader at the helm.
It had been both of day of celebration and loss back then. A leader was chosen but it felt like it was paid at a very steep price. A life for a life. It made Onewhisker’s passing much more painful. Mudstar, when he came back from the Moonpool with Tornear, the first thing he did was not to address the Clan. He went to curl near Onewhisker’s cooling, curled body in the center of their camp.
And it was he who also helped the elders bury the fallen warrior. Snowball expected some kind of grief from him, but the muddy brown tom was oddly... at peace. It seemed like within the span of one night, he received the knowledge gained from countless lifetimes.
Mudstar gave him a choice the next morning when respects were paid to Onewhisker’s life. The Clan must move on. It’s what both Tallstar, Onewhisker, and all the WindClanners before them would have wanted.
Snowball’s position in the clan was uncertain. While everyone treated him fairly, nobody knew what to think of him. Was he a clanmate or was he not? In the beginning, everyone had hoped that Tallstar would make the decision but he joined StarClan shortly after. The scramble between Mudclaw and Onewhisker further pushed the issue of Snowball’s place to the background, but now there was nothing to stand in the way of bringing up the question again.
Mudstar had always been a little tough and rough around the edges. They’ve had spats with each other and when the going got tough, some of the warriors started to turn against the object. But Snowball persisted. A cat named Shrewclaw came to him in a dream, warning him that he should leave WindClan as soon as possible to spare himself any future pain. A warrior’s life demanded more than Snowball ever gave leading up to this point. TPOT, a competition where he had the potential of winning Two’s almost godly powers, somehow held fewer stakes in comparison. Before ending up in this strange world, Snowball regarded himself as one of the strongest objects (if not, the strongest). It made him fearless in competitions as nothing but that drive to win propelled him forward.
But here, this world demanded a different kind of strength to thrive.
“Snowball, you’ve been with WindClan for moons now,” began Mudstar as he sat upon the Tallrock for his first-ever clan meeting. The entirety of WindClan surrounded the object and the kits that he looked after. Both Kestrelkit and Harekit refused to leave his side; Harekit trembling into his side and Kestrelkit’s eyes glistening with growing defiance if the clan leader dared to say the wrong things about his surrogate. “You are not Clanborn nor even a cat yet you’ve worked alongside us all the same. We’ve looked to Tallstar to decide your place, but I believe that decision ultimately comes down to you.”
Mudstar’s gaze soften a bit. “A warrior cannot have a paw in two worlds. That division weakens a cat, leading them to ruin. You have the option to join WindClan and become a warrior or you can leave to seek out the ‘team’ you originally belonged to. However, for as long as I live, you’ll be treated as an ally to the Clan should you end up on our territory again.”
Heh. Snowball remembered his first time stepping onto the moors. Mudstar had given him such a deep gash and that had been the starting point of staying with WindClan.
But like to Shrewclaw, Snowball already had an answer planned for this question. “I want to stay,” he replied. He felt a glow of happiness to see Mudstar’s face lit up a bit; a friend being overjoyed that they weren’t going to say goodbye to one another anytime soon. “I think I have what it takes and I’m not scared of what lies ahead.”
He heard murmuring throughout the crowd. The biggest concern that the object picked up on was “what will the other Clans think?” and that, Snowball hadn’t really thought about it. He had only been exposed to WindClan so who knows if the others will be as receptive towards him as here.
“But that doesn’t matter!” the object thought to himself firmly, “I don’t care what the other Clans think! As long as I’m wanted here, that’s all I could ask for!”
Being wanted was a nice feeling. Much nicer than forcing himself into a team.
The Clan leader smiled. “ThunderClan has kittypets and rumors say that ShadowClan has rogues. WindClan is proud of all its’ clanmates, no matter how different they are. We are all working towards the same goal; to make our Clan strong!” Mudstar leaped from the Tallrock and down in front of Snowball and the two kits, beaming. “I want us to remain cautious for now. I understand this is very new territory for a Clan to take, but we will cross that moor once we get there.” Once again, he looked towards the three. “For now, we need to welcome three new members to WindClan’s ways. Kestrelkit and Harekit have reached their sixth moon and are ready to become apprentices. Snowball, in his decision to stay, will also begin his formal training.”
The uneasiness radiating from the two kits slowly vanished. Kestrelkit’s apprehension was replaced by excitement that sparked off his pelt and even Harekit had a tiny smile on his maw.
“Harekit, Snowball, please step forward.”
Harekit looked slightly surprised. The object could see the way he looked at Kestrelkit, confused as to why his littermate wasn’t mentioned but Snowball gently nudged him forward. He watched as Mudstar went to the tiny, rabbit-looking kitten first.
“Harekit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Harepaw.” Mudstar briefly looked into the crowd of cats that were watching intently until his eyes rested on his own familiar littermate. “Your mentor will be Tornear. I hope he will pass down all he knows on to you.”
Snowball silently approved of the choice. “Mudstar used to be in the same boat as Harepaw; being too scared and uncertain about what they were going to do. I know having someone close to him would help Harepaw get more comfortable. If he trusts Mudstar, then he’ll know that Tornear will look after him just as well.” And if he didn’t? His kit could always let the object know and he would do everything he could to correct it. But pride swelled in his chest to see Tornear come up and touch his nose on Harepaw’s head.
He gazed back as the Clan leader turned to him, ready to be addressed and actually accepted into a group.
“I’m sure you’re well past your sixth moon,” meowed Mudstar with an amused purr, “but like a new kit, you have yet to learn the ways of Clan life. Snowball, it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Snowpaw.”
Snowball - Snowpaw - felt a bit of relief. He didn’t mind the new name but he sure wasn’t glad Mudstar didn’t decide to go with something like “Snowballpaw”. Maybe later down the line, he would get renamed back to his old name. He wasn’t entirely sure how the naming thing went.
But the muddy brown tom continued. “Your mentor will be Owlwhisker. I hope his youth will give him the creativity necessary to train you.”
Owlwhisker. He saw the young warrior excitedly go to the front and stand in front of him, beaming. “You’re my first apprentice, Snowpaw!” he whispered to him excitedly. “I won’t let you down! I’ll work as hard as you will so you can be the best warrior you can be!”
Snowpaw smiled at his ambition. He was sure that he wouldn’t fail in his promise. It was Owlwhisker who was constantly egging him on to practice his hunter’s crouch and figuring out ways how he could make up for his lack of speed without being too obvious to the prey.
It felt awkward, but he kneeled down a little more so that the tom could touch his nose on his forehead.
Barkface soon came up to stand next to Mudstar and rested his gaze on Kestrelkit. “Kestrelkit has chosen to walk the path of a medicine cat,” he announced happily to the rest of the Clan. “I will take him to the next half moon and present him to StarClan for his apprentice name.”
A medicine cat! Snowpaw could see how proud the patterned kitten looked! With how much he liked to tussle and playfight with any partner he could find, the object was surprised to see him pick such a path! But either way, he and his kits were going to be the best that WindClan had to offer!
“Snowpaw! Harepaw! Kestrelkit!” cheered their new clanmates. Owlwhisker and Tornear were the loudest out of the bunch and while Mudstar didn’t say anything, he too was brimming with pride for his friends.
That had been some time ago.
The object’s training had been expedited in a way. Since Owlwhisker had been “informally” training him even before he got officially apprenticed, it meant he could get through the assessments much quicker. The light brown tabby kept true to his promise of figuring out the best methods to teach him such as hunting. It turned out that what worked best for the object was not using speed like the other warriors. His own “pelt” of snow hid him in plain sight to countless prey and they never picked up on the fact that he was there. He smelled and looked of snow, therefore, he was able to sneak up on hares and grab them outright. He only needed to get down how to tread silently. It was still a challenge as Snowpaw was anything but sneaky and subtle, but he had pushed himself to his limits to get it down.
It was not unusual for his mentor to find him at the crack of dawn, trying to sneakily leave the camp without a single cat noticing.
Fighting techniques were strange and it was something that Mudstar elected to overlook. There was no need to spend time trying to make up new techniques for him as he had hands that he could use. He was more so trained on what techniques the other Clans used and what they looked like.
But more importantly, he was taught that a warrior did not need to kill in order to win a battle.
His warrior name came for him almost as quickly as his apprentice name did and frankly, Mudstar knocked it out of the ballpark with the new name. Snowshade. That absolutely sounded cool as hell to him!
But what really made it more special to him was the reasoning behind it.
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Snowpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Snowshade. StarClan honors your strength and bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.”
He was strong! Everyone thought he was strong here! Strong and brave! It felt utterly different from the competition he was in all that time ago. Back then, it seemed like no one believed him even though he was strong! But here, every time they looked up to him, they could see all the strength he pushed so hard to nurture while he was a ‘paw!
“Snowshade... That’s my new name...” He held on to it like it were a fragile piece of glass or a newborn kit that he didn’t want to drop. He savored the feeling of wonder and excitement from the ceremony and all the good things to come.
He went from warrior to deputy. Mudstar had a lot of faith in him and he still had a lot that he wanted to learn. Ashfoot had originally been the deputy before him, but she found herself struggling a bit with the weight of it all. Nobody had heard of a deputy stepping down if it wasn’t to retire to the elder’s den, but the gray she-cat took that big leap of stepping down. Nobody could argue with her sincerity that deputyship wasn’t something meant to be on her path. On the off chance that someone did seem to question Ashfoot’s strength, Crowflight was quick to shut down any harmful gossip. However, some thought the position came with painful memories of her deceased mate and Crowflight's father, Deadfoot, that she ultimately didn't want to bear any longer. Whatever the reason was, she went back to looking a lot better as one of the more senior warriors again.
His kits were still hard at work at their own apprenticeships. Snowshade and Mudstar watched as Harepaw grew a little as the days passed. He was slowly getting used to the other cats and even though he still was quiet with other warriors that were not Snowshade, Mudstar, or Tornear, he was still progressing. Kestrelpaw was still happy training alongside Barkface, quickly learning everything he could about healing. Even when he was busy, he still carved out some time to go see Harepaw and share a few moves between them.
But there was still someone that Snowshade worried about.
Whitetail seemed lost after Onewhisker’s passing. All the stress between her mate and Mudstar back then slowly got to her and the dog attack that finished it off left her in pieces that she struggled to put back together. She had been so excited for her kits to come to the world when he was still alive, but now that he could only watch her from StarClan, her enthusiasm waned considerably.
Even when her two kits were born, she looked at them blankly.
“Aren’t you going to name them?” asked Barkface softly. Queens were usually so eager to name their kits.
But Whitetail hesitated and squirmed slightly as if the kits nursing at her side were foreign, like worms.
Mudstar and Snowshade were present for her kitting. In a way, they were substituting for Onewhisker. “Is it Onewhisker you’re missing?” asked the muddy brown clan leader in a quiet tone.
The queen shut her eyes tightly, trying hard to mask the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes. She nodded. “He was supposed to be here,” she choked out. “We were hoping I’d have two kits so that we could name a kit each. I can’t... I can’t name them both, that wouldn’t be fair to him.”
It was tragic that Onewhisker had to die for a leader to be decided. Everyone wished it had ended on a good note with the two of them present. That way, Whitetail wouldn’t have to suffer alone with the remaining reminders of her mate left with her.
“He’s counting on you to come up with some names,” urged Mudstar again. “Your kits need you right now, Whitetail. They’ll always need you. StarClan won’t feel so beautiful if Onewhisker sees you suffering down here.”
It sounded like he was speaking from experience.
It took a bit for the queen to come around. Everyone was silent to give her as much uninterrupted time as she needed to think. Even Kestrelpaw was still, pressing his body close to Barkface for reassurance.
Soon, Whitetail pointed her tail tip to the small, light brown tabby she-cat, still nursing at her belly. “This is Heatherkit,” she announced shakily, “because Onewhisker would bring me heather every quarter moon.”
Her tail moved on to the wriggling white and brown splotched she-cat. “And this is Secondkit because my kits are always going to be a reminder of Onewhisker to me. He won’t be here with me, but they’ll be like my second chance at a lifetime with him.” Her grief over her late mate seemed to lessen a bit as she thoughtfully mulled over the names of her two kits. She even wrapped her tail around the two tiny bundles in order to tuck them closer to her.
“If you ever need anything, you can count on me,” spoke Mudstar. “Remember that you aren’t ever alone. Please reach out whenever you need any extra support, Whitetail.”
The queen blinked wearily towards everyone. She had a smile, a very small one, but a smile nonetheless. “I don’t mean to cause any trouble, but... thank you,” she purred.
Snowshade didn’t think she was a burden. Whitetail was far from it. Seeing her with both Heatherkit and Secondkit reminded him of his time looking after his own.
The more he stayed here, the more he... learned and felt. He never constantly worried back in the old competition he used to be in, but it felt good to worry about those he cared for the most. His adopted kits were ‘paws, but they still looked up to him. Both Harepaw and Kestrelpaw returned to him once the moon started to rise, curling into his side for the rest of the night. Snowshade couldn’t think of a single teammate that would be willing to do that.
He also worried about Whitetail; he had some sympathy for her situation of having to raise her two kits mainly on her own. “But she won’t be alone!” thought Snowshade, “I’m going to help her out! She looked after my kits when they were a handful so I’m going to do the same for her!”
Some nights he wished he had acted faster during the dog attack. Maybe he could have been able to save Onewhisker as well.
It was a pain that didn’t compare to losing a competition. When his team lost a challenge, it’d suck but within a few days, he’d be fine.
This kind of pain didn’t leave him no matter how many weeks passed.
RiverClan was truly gone.
Crowflight and the object always checked up on the corner where WindClan touched RiverClan at sunset and each sunset, RiverClan’s scent markers faded farther into obscurity. They had stopped coming to something called the “Gathering” that Snowshade never experienced himself and ShadowClan’s behavior was concerning to Mudstar.
Eventually, the muddy brown tom made the call to investigate what was going on personally. Just him and Snowshade.
He didn’t care much for the other Clans for he never had gotten to meet any of them. He couldn’t go to the Gatherings that took place every full moon and for reasons he could understand, everyone was hesitant of the potential reaction from the others. Mudstar was waiting for the right time to spring the idea to the other leaders; he couldn’t keep coming up with excuses as to why his deputy had yet to attend.
Crowflight’s pelt seemed to always be on end. Once he saw that dusk painted the horizon with deep shades of purple and dying orange, he approached the object when he finally crawled out of the leader’s den.
“Are you finally going?” asked Crowflight in a low tone.
“In a bit,” replied Snowshade.
“If you see Feathertail, can you relay a message to her for me?”
The tom had initially been angry that the RiverClan she-cat didn’t keep her promise. Snowshade didn’t understand why. In fact, he thought it was a little suspicious that he was so worried about someone outside WindClan. The more faded the RiverClan scent markers became, the more Crowflight grew worried instead.
Snowshade held his tongue about that. It wasn’t his business to butt into situations like this. He already did it once, he didn’t need to do it again. He only curtly nodded, wanting him to spill the beans already before Mudstar could intrude on them both.
No words could escape Crowflight’s maw no matter how much he tried. Eventually, he ended up shaking his head dismissively. “You know what? Never mind. If you see her, just let me know. That’ll be enough for me.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” This would be the snowy object’s first time meeting another Clan and he couldn’t screw it up! He wasn’t some random stranger stranded in an odd world, he was a part of WindClan. Mudstar depended on him to carry out his duties with an air that commanded respect.
Crowflight dipped his head in appreciation and quickly made his leave once the mossy curtain of the leader’s den shivered. Mudstar’s dark muddy colored head poked out, his yellow eyes shining brightly in the dying light. “Ready to head out?”
The object nodded and he saw Crowflight briefly glance towards him before leaving to join Gorsetail’s dusk patrol. Following behind the muddy brown tom, Snowshade took a deep breath in.
He didn’t want to admit that he was feeling a bit scared.
Clanmates looked down at her during every moment of her life. The moment the earthly air chilled her kit fur was the moment it all began.
The gossip. The subtle disdain. The reminders that she did not belong.
She did not fault her younger self for what she did. She had seen plenty of kits and apprentices tumbling around Clan camps; she knew that they tended to be at their most sensitive, seeking the beaming approval from all their clanmates to prove themselves as the best warriors of their generation.
She understood why her younger self broke down under the weight of it all.
Tawnypelt used to be plagued by what-ifs. What if she stayed? What if she grew thicker skin against all the bitter remarks? What if her father had been someone else? What if he had not done the things he did?
When she was fresh, she looked at Brambleclaw in envy. Why didn’t she make it? Why hadn’t she survived? Goldenflower would always be her mother, Goldenflower of ThunderClan. ThunderClan coursed through her veins. ShadowClan was only political and by name; both she and her father had not been born in ShadowClan. They were of ThunderClan and yet they switched.
ShadowClan had been more quiet in terms of her paternal blood. She made it clear that she wanted to be her own family. A one-cat Clan.
Was it unreasonable? Possibly. A Clan consisted of those who looked after one another; friends, family, mentors, and leadership. Without that, they were no different from rogues and loners. Aimless as they drifted through life, devoid of a personal purpose.
She was her own family.
She decides who becomes a part of it.
Her Clanmates looked down upon her yet again.
Despite how often this occurred, Tawnypelt could never get used to it. It seared her fur and ripped into her skin. Both fiery hot and frosty cold at the same time. They looked down on her and no matter how tough she thought herself to be, she could feel the cracks slowly fragment her spirit.
“Stand tall, Tawnypelt,” she thought to herself soothingly as her eyes glazed with painful tears. She had to stand with her head held high for there was no one that would stand for her. ThunderClan didn’t stand for her. Tigerstar didn’t stand for her. Those that she felt a shred of trust were her fellow companies over the Great Journey, but Tawnypelt knew better than to believe they would stretch their necks out to help her.
She was the only one she could reliably rely on no matter what happened. It would take StarClan itself to shake her from what her morals strongly guided her.
ShadowClan clustered around her; a jury of her “supposed” peers watching her trial. A nearly full moon haloed behind Blackstar, painting his white fur into an ethereal silver. Moonlight barely illuminated the faces of her clanmates; some twisted in distrust, others angry, and a few in disbelief at what she had done.
“Not once,” spoke Blackstar and the firmness of his words made the pine trees shiver in fear. “Not twice. But multiple times you’ve tried to interfere. For someone born in the Clans and in the old territories, I expect you to know the extent of the damage Twolegs can cause.”
She caught a glance from Rowanclaw, his eyes burned hot with hatred as he stared at her.
Tawnypelt said nothing to either him or Blackstar. She lowered her head until she stared daggers at the swamp-scented ground.
“Twolegs brought destruction to our original home! We’ve endured suffering and lost loved ones during the Great Journey, is that not right?!” The large leader snarled and ShadowClan voiced their agreement. The Great Journey had taken a great toll on all the Clans. They had to leave no matter what and those that were too old to travel remained in the old territories as the Twolegs tore it all down. Traveling through the mountains was perilous in itself, claiming the life of an apprentice before they got here. “We could not do anything to protect our old home, but I am more than willing to give up all my lives to protect the one we have now and these strange things are still Twolegs!"
“She did not know anything about the Twolegs that ruined the forest territories!” hissed Tawnypelt all of a sudden. Her chest squeezed painfully as she listened to how wrong Blackstar was spinning things. “You had no right to put her on trial! She was as innocent as a kit!”
The fur along Blackstar’s spine bristled with indignation. “It was not my place,” he meowed after a few bitter moments of silence. “I had put my faith in Leopardstar to understand the danger. She had struck me as capable; I was so sure she’d know better than to keep it.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yet her judgment was clouded. She didn’t see the danger that was coming for her Clan... But even I didn’t sense it would be this terrible.” He glared back at Tawnypelt, meeting her eyes with leveled anger. “If Clearpaw is so innocent, why did RiverClan disappear? Why did StarClan send a sign of the ice skewered newt?”
He threw his head to the rest of his Clan. “StarClan foretold that Clearpaw would be the end of RiverClan! Our warrior ancestors are warning us of these strange Twolegs!”
Tawnypelt snarled at him. He had sent them to attack RiverClan so soon after he threatened Leopardstar. She had stopped him from trying to hurt Clearpaw after seeing how much Feathertail advocated for her. The gentle RiverClanner had felt like a reliable ally to Tawnypelt throughout the Journey. Her heart told her to pay it forward and she would not fail.
But she was no medicine cat. The ice-skewered newt was a sign that she didn’t have any hope of deciphering. She was there when the tiny creature was lying on the ground in their medicine cat’s den. She saw the desperation and pain knotting in Littlecloud’s face as it brought him to soft, choking tears.
Large shards of ice, like the strange clear rock that made up Clearpaw, speared the small newt to a painful death. Why did StarClan not warn RiverClan of the danger they messed with?
Tawnypelt had no answers save for the one that her heart told her. Yet it was an answer that ShadowClan didn’t want to hear.
They wouldn’t want to hear about how she believed RiverClan only suffered due to Blackstar’s rushed and messy judgment that was not his to give.
She stood tall as no one would do it for her. No one would take her place as she felt Blackstar’s hot breath tickle her nose as he faced her head on. In fact, there were some who relished the sight of her pelt being verbally flayed. She had never truly belonged and even her father’s actions did nothing to protect her.
“Get out.”
This was the first time Tawnypelt agreed with ShadowClan’s leader. The battle with RiverClan gnawed at her spirit. It kept her awake countless nights as she replayed scenarios where she could have stopped it. She should have warned Feathertail regardless of ShadowClan’s suspicions of her. Feathertail would have understood and she would still be here. All of them would.
A part of her was in disbelief that the only thing she held in common with Blackstar was agreeing that she should leave.
Again.
First, ThunderClan, and now, ShadowClan.
Bile rose in her throat and her face remained outwardly composed as she rose to her paws.
Stormfur had been right. She never thought his growing reluctance towards returning to the Clans would ever rub off on her. Tawnypelt thought she was comfortable in ShadowClan as they accepted her for who she was as opposed to ThunderClan. For a time, that had been the case but that was when they were at peace.
Now that trouble was brewing, ShadowClan turned its back on her.
If there was no place for innocent creatures that were not cats yet could still speak to them, what chance did half-clan cats have in actuality?
Tawnypelt shouldered past what used to be her Clan. Almost everyone held their peace, either because they were too afraid to speak against Blackstar or were glad to see her go.
The only one that tried to stop her was Littlecloud.
“You can’t go, Tawnypelt!” cried the small medicine cat. “You did nothing wrong! I’ll keep pressing Blackstar into changing his mind, but you can’t leave!”
The she-cat smiled tiredly at him. Littlecloud was one of the most gentle cats she had ever met and it was a trait she was indebted to. She was glad that his early warrior apprenticeship under the notorious Brokenstar did not break his calm demeanor. He had been the closest thing to a trustworthy ally in ShadowClan for moons now.
“You’ve done enough,” she told him. He had. He had defended her after the raid on RiverClan. He had been the reason why she hadn’t been cast out earlier. He was willing to go far no matter the cost to stop ShadowClan from going down a dark past.
He had already seen the worst of it. He did not want to live it again.
“But this time, there’s no changing Blackstar’s mind. Don’t worry. We can figure something out.” Tawnypelt didn’t know what happened to RiverClan. She was sure that they didn’t chase them out, but the lack of RiverClan scent anywhere was becoming a major cause of concern. Cats were starting to question where they went.
Yet Littlecloud still seemed horribly worried, almost as if he feared going back to the main camp after following Tawnypelt into the swampy territory. “This won’t be the last of this, Tawnypelt!”
His words made chills ripple on her spine. “What do you mean this isn’t the last of this?” she asked, anxiety starting to grip her chest.
The medicine cat looked around before padding a bit closer to her. In a low voice, he meowed a secret that brought in a panicked urgency in the she-cat’s heart.
“The WindClan deputy, Snowshade, the one that has never been seen at a Gathering? After Mothwing, Willowpaw, and Clearpaw stopped showing up at the half-moon meetings, Barkface finally confided his worries about ShadowClan to us. Snowshade’s another Twoleg just like Clearpaw and if Blackstar finds out, WindClan is afraid they’ll meet RiverClan’s fate.”
A few sunrises later, StarClan sent another sign in front of Blackstar’s den.
In such an open space, Littlecloud had no chance of hiding it. He even felt conflicted too; would it be his place to hide a sign sent from their ancestors?
Did their ancestors not see the extent Blackstar was willing to go to ‘protect’ the Clans from Twolegs?
So, the medicine cat only watched helplessly from the shadows of his den as Blackstar stumbled upon the new sign. A disemboweled white rabbit stuffed to the brim with snow. Rabbits were rare in ShadowClan and despite newleaf slowly descending on the land, snow still remained crystallized on the mutilated creature.
It was its own little pocket of leafbare.
Russetfur’s sleek dark red frame quickly slid over to where the leader remained standing, his eyes fixated on the rabbit.
Misery filled Littlecloud as he slipped away. He needed to warn Tawnypelt that WindClan’s peace wouldn’t hold for much longer.