Hostile

27

     
      Light rain drizzled. The world was grey and somber while Frostcloud quietly padded across camp, pulling herself into the nursery. She set a mouse at Mosspool's paws, and the queen blinked slowly in response.

  Next to her tail, Littlekit and Smallkit lay sleeping. Their little paws and tails twitched as they dreamt, and Frostcloud eyed the small scraps of fur gently.

  For now, the two kits lay blind, deaf, and defenseless in the milky-warm scent of the nursery. But in no time, they would be strong warriors fighting for their Clan. Frostcloud almost couldn't imagine the two as adults, hunting and battling.

  "How's Slatethorn?" Frostcloud asked quietly, setting herself next to her friend as she ate. At dusk yesterday, MarshClan had attacked Slatethorn's hunting patrol. PineClan had retreated, as they were outnumbered.

  "Unhappy." Mosspool shrugged, "But he made the right call to not take part in a battle he couldn't win."

  Frostcloud nodded. The tension between MarshClan and PineClan hadn't simmered since the Gathering just dusks ago, and it didn't seem like it would any time soon. Why would it if MarshClan wouldn't hold themselves responsible for Doeface's death?

  The small warrior ran her paw over her whiskers as her eyes became heavy. Back as a 'paw, Frostcloud never could of imagined the strain that would come between the Clans. Through her kithood, and even her apprenticeship, there's never been any real aggravation between the territories.

  She could never have imagined what would have come. Why would there be a reason to battle had the territories only kept to themselves? If MarshClan didn't trick Doeface into her demise?

  Doeface. Frostcloud suddenly recalled the days she spent with Mosspool playing with the kits. She never could have imagined she'd watch Doekit's throat be torn open. She never thought she would watch Sunfur, Whitestar, or Duskfur grieve for that wide-eyed kit. That once playful apprentice.

  Once more, Frostcloud's eyes strayed towards Mosspool's own litter. Completely unaware of the turmoil in the Clan just outside their warm nursery of brambles. Oblivious to the trouble they'll surely get into themselves as they grow older.

  So small and helpless now. So meek and precious.

  Something strong welled in Frostcloud's chest as she observed the scraps of fur. The warrior may not have known Doeface would come to meet such a young death when she spent her free time playing around the nursery- she couldn't imagine such a cruel world back then. But StarClan help anything that tries to harm Littlekit and Smallkit in front of her now.