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That morning, the camp was covered in a layer of snow so deep that one could sink into it up to one's stomach. So many flakes were still falling from the sky that they almost formed a thick wall through which it was impossible to see more than a few tail-lengths.
Larkpaw cautiously placed a paw on the new, unfamiliar ground. Coldness shot through her pads and into the tip of her tail. So this is snow? It's much quieter than rain.
Narrowing her eyes to prevent anything from falling into them, Larkpaw looked up. Little by little, speckles of snow covered her fur and shortly afterwards melted into tiny puddles.
A panicked meow from Nettlekit sounded from the nursery, "This actually exists? Blossomkit, look!"
Another high voice followed immediately. "See?" Blossomkit exclaimed. "I was right after all. Now you have to do everything I tell you for one moon."
Larkpaw watched the kits with amusement. Unlike the adult cats of the Clan, only their heads peeked out of the white layer.
Next, Owlkit also wriggled out of the tangled undergrowth in front of the nursery. When the small, grey-brown tabby tom dived into the snow, he widened his eyes in fright and hopped around, meowing. At least that's what he wanted to do, but his short legs made him keep falling forwards.
"You shouldn't stay out too long. Otherwise you'll catch a cold." Flutterflight slipped out of a narrow gap in the bushes. She scraped the snow away with her paws before settling down. Lovingly, the light ginger tabby queen watched her kits.
Now Fernpool strutted over to Larkpaw. The dark reddish-brown and white tabby warrior placed her paws in such a natural way, as if she were walking on grass. Her fur was fluffed up and her whiskers trembled in the wind.
"Your first Leaf-bare," Larkpaw's former mentor said to her.
Larkpaw nodded in agreement. Just like Flutterflight earlier, Fernpool cleared a small spot and sat down.
"Snow is kind of beautiful," Larkpaw murmured.
Fernpool gave her a long, thoughtful sideways glance. "That may be true," she objected, "but we shouldn't forget that the first snowfall is always the harbinger of death."
These words sent a cold shiver through Larkpaw. Hopefully she was just exaggerating. Nevertheless, she was more than aware of this fact. She let her gaze wander over the camp and at the same time wondered what problems they would have to deal with in the near future.
With a mocking purr, Fernpool nodded in the direction of the pool. "Just look at them, Larkpaw! Every time the water freezes over, and every time they act as if it's the greatest miracle. Well, for some cats it's actually the first time," she added somewhat placidly.
Surprised, Larkpaw only now realised that the rushing of the small waterfall and the splashing of the stream and pool were missing. It seemed that she had become so accustomed to the soundscape that she hadn't noticed anything had changed at first.
