Chapter Text
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Windclan was nestled in the hills of the four territories. The vast ocean of light grass surrounded them on all sides and they slept under the stars. Nightpelt believed that they were closest to Starclan. Every night under the warm greenleaf moon the clan dreamed together with Silverpelt glittering above head, watching them. A breeze swayed the fields above them as they sheltered below in camp along the dusty ground.
Moldkit was warm underneath her mother’s fur as she watched the sky. Light clouds were illuminated, passing through the world gently without care. Her wide green eyes studied them. It was a perfect night tonight.
Her ear flapped as she heard the dirt settling beneath someone’s paws. She turned to look and Sparrowfeather was there. His amber eyes stared down at her in silence for a second.
Sparrowfeather had just become a warrior not too long ago. He was well older than young Moldkit, as Nightpelt had unfortunate times with both litters. She had her two kits, and she had learned to live with that. Whoever their father was— she refused to say. Sparrowfeather had trouble with this reality, but nothing he did made any difference. Moldkit didn’t care much to know. She inched forward, looking at her distant littermate. Finally, his massive head bent down, his mew a mere whisper. “I see you’re up early… Would you like to join me for an… impromptu dawn patrol?”
Moldkit felt her tiny body light up with excitement, and her once weary paws seemed to itch for freedom. Despite this, Moldkit knew the rules. “But… I’m not an apprentice yet, I can’t go outside camp– Morningstar wouldn’t let me...”
Sparrowfeather shook his head, his eyes never leaving her. “What’s one more moon? I think you can handle it. But if you don’t think so…”
But Moldkit was already gently stepping out from her mother’s embrace, who stretched and turned onto her side. “No! I can! Let’s go!”
And she bounded in between sleeping bodies as she headed for the worn path up the hill and out of the crater. Sparrowfeather glanced at his clanmates before following behind, his thinner tail lashing behind him.
Moldkit made it to the top, not without struggle. She panted as she looked around. Grass, grass and more grass. Her ears twitched. She supposed this wasn’t a big hill then… Moldkit had expected to see the whole world, Thunderclan and the pines of Shadowclan, maybe even the lake she had heard so much about.
Sparrowfeather lurked past her, parting the grass. His tail bumped into her, urging her on. “This way.”
Moldkit tried to keep up, but walking the territory was harder than it looked and her legs were so little. The grass was cool, some of it wet. Her muzzle was soaked with early morning dew, but there was still no sign of the sun. She pressed on, following the bobbing white tip of the tail in front of her.
Suddenly, she bumped into his firm leg and fell onto the cold ground. Moldkit looked up in confusion, but Sparrowfeather was crouched low, his amber eyes burning with focus. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
His tail covered her mouth, and he nodded. Moldkit could smell something foul, musty and dank. His muzzle mouthed the word ‘fox.’
Moldkit felt excited once more. A fox? She had heard so many stories! Apparently Thunderclan was the most notorious for having them, she had been told frightful stories about them snatching kits from the nursery. It took a patrol of cats to deal with a fox… and sometimes they’d be killed anyway. Moldkit used to believe they were a myth to keep kits inside the den.
Her whiskers quivered and she tried to peek over the grass. A burly paw shoved her back down. “Wait.”
And so she did. Her smaller body was tucked in tight into itself as she held her breath, waiting… thinking…
Eventually Sparrowfeather’s short ears twitched, and he stood up again. “It’s gone now. Remember that scent, Moldkit. Never forget it.”
Moldkit felt as if she knew the answer, but she asked anyway. “What’s so special about it?”
He didn't look back as they continued on. “It’s good to know these things, Moldkit. Better to smell them before they do you. And sometimes, you can use this to cover your own scent.”
Before she could ask what he was talking about, she nearly fell flat into a pile of old fox dirt. Moldkit reared back. “Eww!”
Sparrowfeather lifted his chin at her, his lips twitching. “Quiet, it still lurks nearby. We’re almost to the edge of the territory anyhow.”
Moldkit’s eyes brightened, and she swiftly made it back to his side. Although, when she smelled the air there was nothing different about it. Didn’t the clans usually have a scent unique from each other?
She came up on top of the hill, panting from the exercise. Moldkit was used to the small, cozy perimeter of the nursery. Now it felt like she had the whole world at her paws. The breeze hit her cheek fur, blinding her for a second, but from up here she could see everything. She could see a second moon down below the slopes; that must be the lake. And she saw the dark glob of black, that was Shadowclan. They probably looked much better in the daylight, as the land was shrouded in darkness. Moldkit looked to the sky and saw the thin clouds that once had been were replaced by a thicker blanket. The moon had been cast out of sight. Moldkit shook her head, ignoring the disappointment at her first day– or rather night out. But when she looked for Sparrowfeather, she didn’t see him.
Moldkit blinked, perking up and feeling a rush of anxiety course through her chest. “Sparrowfeather?”
She turned around. “Sparrowfeather?”
And around again. “Sparrowfeather!”
Moldkit started to pant with fear. She could still smell the fox, it hadn’t been too far behind. Did it come back? Was it already tracking her? What if it had killed Sparrowfeather?
Blades of grass scraped against each other and Moldkit jumped up with fright as her fur fluffed up, prepared to see the wicked orange face with fangs. But Sparrowfeather emerged, and she sighed in relief. “Where did you go? Where’s the border at? Will we meet cats from another clan?”
Moldkit chattered, turning to peek over the meadow on her haunches. When he didn’t respond, she turned to look at him. Sparrowfeather glared at her from the wall of grass, his paw frozen in motion. His amber eyes burned with an emotion she hadn’t seen before, but it was frightening. Moldkit stepped backwards, her ears slowly turning downwards. “Are you mad at me? Is the fox nearby?”
But oddly enough, he didn’t respond. His paw stepped forward and the rest of his body followed suit in a fluid motion. He stalked with efficiency, his shoulders rippled beneath his short fur similarly to the gentle rocking of a running stream.
“What’s wrong?” She whined as she retreated, her chin low to the ground and her shoulders fluffy in fear. “I thought we were going on a patrol…”
The only emotion he showed was betrayed in his muzzle. He grimaced, his white teeth glinting in the dark like an angry smile. In the shade, she swore his eyes were black. The breeze had stopped, the air had chilled. Distantly the thunder rolled on. With a low growl, Sparrowfeather sprung into the air, his jaws clamping down on her head as they grappled in the grass.
Above them, the sky was dark and devoid of stars. The moon was still hidden. It had chilled the night even after the harsh bake of the greenleaf sun. But the slight red tinge to the horizon suggested salvation from the cold was near. Soon enough the lake territories would be bathed in loving warmth again and its inhabitants would be busy with their duties.
Sparrowfeather looked backwards, snorting. He sat in the grass to clean his face and paws, shaking his head. He’d have to go to the stream for a real clean. With a huff he stood up, padding into the meadow once more. Alone in the slightly rising darkness, Moldkit lie motionless. Her green eyes were wide, her muzzle quivering in a silent cry. Her whole body was an orchestra of ebbing and flowing agony. She tasted blood for the first time.
Moldkit tried to stand, but found she couldn’t. As she collapsed again, she stared off into the dull blue sky. The clouds had passed and she didn’t even notice. On the horizon, the moon shone one last time for the night. Starclan must be watching.
She sat up to watch the bright light, her small elbows trembling with her weight. It nearly blinded her only eye at the moment. Starclan watched.
She stumbled to her paws, swaying to one side. Her breath was shallow as she took her first limp, filling her senses with the stench of fox. She could only think of her mother. Moldkit had to rely on his scent, maybe any pawprints she found.
Alone, her journey home began.