Rain pounded down upon the cats. As they padded silently through the forest, it seeped into their pelts and dripped from their whiskers, forcing them to blink the water from their eyes. They finally stopped at the edge of the forest. The tom nodded wordlessly to his companion, a she-cat holding a small, reddish-brown kit with multicolored spots. She gently placed the kit down, flattening her ears as it almost instantly started to wail.
''Nettlesting, this can't be right! This can't be what Starclan wants,'' The she-cat cried, despairingly. Nettlesting fixed his hazel gaze on his paws, his pupils narrowing to slits.
''Starclan requires us to follow our leader's orders without question. We will do what Froststar tells us,'' He replied firmly. He lead the way as the two padded back the way they came, their fur plastered to their sides. The kit stared after them in horror, its cries rising to petrified shrieks that clawed deep into the hearts of the retreating cats.