𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 〖ʷᵃʳʳⁱᵒʳ ᶜᵃᵗˢ〗

I

Spiderkit felt heat over her pelt as she awoke, as though the sun was trying to scorch her fur off. She almost cried out in fear, before the sunlight filtered through her eyes and she realized that she was in camp, in the always-empty nursery that she had become accustomed to after living alone in it for six moons.

She got up on shaky paws, looking around and stretching before getting up and exiting the den.

The sun painted yellow and pink streaks across the sky, although blue was beginning to leak into it as well. Spiderkit estimated that it was a bit past dawn.

As she guessed that, some cats slid into camp, all looking tired and frustrated.

"It's newleaf," a warrior named Hornetclaw meowed, the annoyance clear in his tone. "Why is there not more prey to be found?"

"It has only just begun to warm up," Rainwhisker, one of the advisors, interjected. "We can't give up hope just yet."

"I'm just saying we wouldn't have problems like this in the old territory," Hornetclaw insisted.

"Hornetclaw," a cat who Spiderkit was not too familiar with interjected, stepping from where he had been laying. "You know that we can't just go back to our old land. Rainwhisker and the other advisors have been scouting it out and all life has been destroyed, it seems."

"I'm sorry, Maplewhisker, it's just frustrating."

"I understand." The white tom flicked one of his cream ears. "Rainwhisker, why don't you let Antstar know that he should send out a hunting patrol or two later?"

An unreadable expression passed over Rainwhisker's face for just a moment before she trotted to the leader's den. Spiderkit watched her slip inside with interest but didn't want to appear too nosy, so she walked past the two toms, who were both quietly discussing something.

She approached the prey pile and grabbed one of the only things the dawn patrol had caught without much pride; despite being the second youngest member of the Clan, she felt like on some level it wasn't her prey to have.

Spiderkit found herself staring at the betrotheds' den, where Hollyfang was watching his two kits, Larkkit and Marigoldkit, with much pride. Spiderkit had always felt a twinge of jealousy around them; they were treated much more specially than her because of their status as the kits of the betrothed and the leader. Even their half-sister, Goosethroat, wasn't given that much privilege.

"Hi Spiderkit!" Larkkit's high voice suddenly cut through her thoughts and the two younger kits tumbled over. They were both four moons, but had only just begun to grow into it. The kit-fluff was beginning to shed off of them, giving their muscles more definition.

"Good morning," Spiderkit said evenly.

"Marigoldkit wanted to know if you wanted to join us for a game of mossball." Larkkit continued, pulling her littermate closer with her tail.

"I did not!" Marigoldkit protested.

Thumping pawsteps suddenly approached, and then Hollyfang was standing there, a nervous look on his face. "Try to stay closer to our den, kits." He murmured softly, gathering his kits with his tail. "Sorry about them disturbing you," he said apologetically to Spiderkit, before all but dragging them back to the betrotheds' den.

Spiderkit's tail twitched with a small amount of agitation. Why did so many cats, Hollyfang especially, treat her like she was made out of moss?

She finally got a good look down at the prey pile, and she took a scrappy mouse before wandering over to a desolate side of the clearing.

As she was eating, there were suddenly pawsteps and a short-haired calico-tabby was approaching her.

"Hi, Palebriar."