Icy wind ruffled Swallowtail’s cinnamon fur, making her shiver. The oak trees shook with the force, and the ground was lightly snowed. Every breath of hers curled into a cloud of white smoke. She looked up at the gray skies and sighed. It was all so beautiful. If only it wasn’t so cold, she thought to herself.
Here, she padded lightly underneath the shelter the trees provided, alongside her mate, Chervilroot. He was white with black patches, with his blue eyes shining even in the daylight. She purred. He was her everything, and it was with him that she had decided to run away. Away from the Clans. Away from her friends. Away from everything she’s ever known.
It didn’t matter to her though. She was now free, with the tom of her dreams by her side. Back then, they had to make so many excuses, so many sacrifices… just to be together. He was always so considerate, swimming the lake all the way to ThunderClan territory to meet her. There, they stared at the stars, and sweet words echoed through the still night air. At these memories, she smiled and gazed over at Chervilroot, the same love shining in her eyes. He returned it, and a warm feeling spread from her nose to her tailtips. And for a moment, it wasn’t cold.
She opened her mouth to scent for anyone close by. There were a few stale scents, but nothing more. And the good thing was, the scent was fading. She strode more confidently now. Soon, they would be out of ThunderClan territory. Then, they’d truly be free.
A mewl interrupted her thoughts. She looked below her, and she saw her son, Warmkit, staring up at her with orange eyes misted with sleepiness. He had been born outside of Clan territory. None of her Clanmates knew of him. She had sneaked out, every now and then, making sure that her kit was safe and well-fed. It was risky, but she had done it. Now he was here. He has my eyes, she thought happily, but he looks like his father.
He mewled again, this time stumbling over his paws. Swallowtail nudged him back to his paws and gave him rough licks to keep him warm. The journey will be long. He won’t be able to take it, she realized with a jolt. He’s so young. Two moons can’t prepare a kit for such a travel.
“Chervilroot,” she mewed anxiously, “Warmkit’s getting tired. I don’t think he can take much longer.”
Chervilroot’s eyes widened and he slowed to a halt. She stopped as well, and Warmkit, taken by momentum, crashed into her leg with an ‘Oof!’
“You’re right,” he said, turning to her with eyes pondering, “what do you think we should do?”
They were both silent for a moment, thinking; Warmkit staring up at them with wide orange eyes.
“What if we leave him here?” Chervilroot suggested, “ThunderClan will find him. Then, he’d be safe.”
Swallowtail’s heartbeat began racing, worry rising in her chest. “There has to be a better way!” she countered angrily, “What if they don’t find him in time? What if there isn’t a queen to take him in? What if… what if…”
Chervilroot put his tail over her muzzle, silencing her. “Calm down,” he meowed assuringly, “Warmkit will be fine. If he’s anything like us, he’ll be strong.” He looked deep into her eyes. “We don’t have much of a choice.”
He paused before continuing, “RiverClan won’t take him in. I left first. There are no queens yet. ThunderClan will take him in. The warrior code is on our side. They won’t harm him.”
At this, Swallowtail was assured, and she turned to Warmkit, eyes filled with love. He was still and willing, even as his mother placed him in the middle of a nearby clearing.
“Stay here, and meow as much as you can. They will come soon.” She licked her son, and it felt like a cold, heavy boulder had been placed in her chest. She swallowed, eyes filled with sorrow. Behind her, Chervilroot watched the scene, seeming just as sad to leave his son behind.
“We love you, Warmkit,” she murmured, and she tore her eyes away from him, as hard as it was. She raced away with Chervilroot into the shadows beyond ThunderClan.
Warmkit was now alone. The sky was now a rich purple, with orange and red splashed on the horizon. It was dusk, and it was leaf-bare.
He mewled pitifully, wishing his parents were back.
“And then wham! That ShadowClan warrior was now at my mercy, and I had my paws on his throat. But me, being a good apprentice, let him go. He scampered away, and I laughed! I was the best, and I still am!”
“Shut up, Goldenfur! You’re going to give us away. We’re on dusk patrol, right?” A light brown tom hissed at him and flicked his tail in annoyance.
Goldenfur smirked, and held his head loftily. His ginger pelt was dipped in a dark blue by the shadows under the trees. “Doesn’t matter. Any intruders’ll be scared out of their fur when they hear the name—“
“Goldenfur’s been like that since he was an apprentice, Maplebranch.” A gray she-cat tried to calm the light brown tom down, his eyes burning in the half-light. “Don’t mind him.”
“Thanks, Rainstorm.” He took long, even breaths in an effort to stop his frustration at the young warrior’s behaviour.
Rainstorm turned to a smaller cat padding next to her. “Don’t mind Goldenfur, Sprintpaw. He didn’t do half the things he claims to do.” The young white cat nodded understandingly.
“I’m offended.” Goldenfur looked affronted, paw to his chest in a gesture of injured pride. “This story was real.”
Maplebranch was muttering darkly next to Rainstorm, glaring at Goldenfur. “I swear, after this, I am never going on a patrol with this mousebrain as long as I live.”
Rainstorm sighed. “Can’t change him,” she mumbled to herself.
Suddenly, a sharp noise sliced through the still night air. All four cats turned with a jerk to where the sound came from, ears pricked and alert. Even Goldenfur was snapped out of his moment.
“What in the name of StarClan was that?” Maplebranch exclaimed.
“I don’t know,” replied Rainstorm in a hushed voice.
“Let’s get closer.” Sprintpaw suggested, and they all began creeping forward on light paws towards the sound, making as little noise as they could. Any noise would be audible now, with the snow on the ground keeping everything silent.
They heard it again, sharp and cutting. Only this time, it was clearly a mew.
“A kit!” Goldenfur whispered forcefully.
The patrol dropped their silence, paws thrumming on the snowy ground. The forest opened into a little clearing near the border with WindClan. Here, the trees were thinner, and wind from the moors blew strong, buffeting the cats’ fur. In one corner, there sat a small shape, shivering from the biting cold and mewing loudly. Rainstorm rushed forward to take the kit. Grabbing it by the scruff, she brought it to where the rest of the patrol was, deeper into the forest. She laid the kit in front of them and started licking its fur the opposite way.
The other three cats sniffed the kitten warily. Goldenfur and Maplebranch flinched, expressions of disgust clear on their face. Sprintpaw simply looked at the kit curiously.
“He smells familiar,” he observed.
“Of course he smells familiar!” Maplebranch yowled, “This must be Swallowtail’s kit!”
Goldenfur growled as well, and it appeared that he was about to swipe at the kit. Rainstorm put herself between the kit and the two toms, who glared at the kit with ire.
“This is a helpless kit!” she hissed at both of them, “Do you have any conscience?”
“Well, apparently, his mother doesn’t have one.” Goldenfur growled, his claws still unsheathed.
“You do not judge a kit for the actions of its parents!” she retorted, eyes fiery. Her fur, ruffled even when she wasn’t angry, now stuck up everywhere, giving her a wild look. “If you kill him, you will have disobeyed the warrior code.”
Turning to the kit, she purred soothingly in a sharp departure from her earlier behaviour. “What’s your name, kit?”
The kit looked up with eyes reflecting the leaf-bare sky above, trembling. “W-Warmkit.”
Rainstorm craned her neck forward to lick him, and he stopped shaking. He must be scared of us now.
“It’s okay,” she murmured into his small ear, picking the kit up by the scruff and tearing back towards the ThunderClan camp. Sprintpaw followed quickly.
Maplebranch and Goldenfur glanced at each other. After some hesitation, they ran all the way back to the camp.
Rainstorm leaped into camp. Tonight, ThunderClan was having their evening meal, and a lot of cats were in the clearing, sharing tongues over pieces of freshkill. On top of the Highledge was Ivystar, her spotted tabby fur glowing in the moonlight.
She stepped into the clearing, and everything fell silent as soon as they saw the kit dangling from her jaws. Cats who had been chatting eagerly only a few heartbeats ago were as quiet and as still as rocks. Ivystar noticed her arrival, and was now looking down at her with narrowed eyes. Rainstorm gulped. She put the kit down at her paws. She heard the cats begin whispering and mumbling to one another, probably suspicious of her and of this kit.
“What’s going on here?” Ivystar boomed from her place on top of the Highledge. Her voice was commanding and forceful, and Rainstorm couldn’t help but press herself lower to the ground in fear.
Gazing around, she saw that even the elder Flametrail had come out of his den to see what was happening. The queens were outside their den; Yellowleaf with her two kits, and Moondrop, expecting. She was relieved to hear Sprintpaw speak up from behind her.
“We found this kit near the border with WindClan. It was all alone in a clearing, and it was cold. We couldn’t have left it alone.”
“Where’s the rest of your patrol?” Ivystar demanded.
“We’re here.” The deep voice of Maplebranch from behind Rainstorm startled her. She jerked abruptly, swinging her head around to see Maplebranch and Goldenfur sitting behind her and beside Sprintpaw, expressions unreadable.
“This kit,” Goldenfur announced, “is Swallowtail’s.”
Shocked gasps resounded through the clearing. Ivystar’s eyes grew wide in surprise. Flyingfeather and Frostheart mumbled furiously to each other then craned their necks forward to take a better look at the kit. They were Swallowtail’s parents, Rainstorm thought, Naturally, they’d be interested in meeting their grandson.
Some cats bristled and growled, while some were calm about the entire thing.
“Send that kit back to where it came from!”
“No! The kit has ThunderClan blood! It’s our responsibility.”
“Exile then!”
“No! The warrior code!”
The noise rose to a crescendo, and Ivystar had to intervene. “Stop!” she yowled, and the clearing was silent again. Rainstorm’s heart was beating hard, nervous after such an outburst of rage and clashing wills.
“The kit will stay,” she meowed simply, and the cats who hated Swallowtail yowled in protest. “Silence!” she hissed, and she glared at them. “The kit will stay with Yellowleaf. That is all.” She retreated to her den, leaving all the cats in the clearing dumbstruck.
Yellowleaf strutted forward and grabbed the black and white kit, and Warmkit’s tail was dragged along. He earned malevolent glares from some, and pleased looks from others. His wide eyes stared out for the last time before the nursery walls blocked everything away.