Of shuddering muscles and shivering bones (Open)

The small kitten shuddered, chilly morning dew dampened her fur, making it cling to her skinny frame. Dewdrops flung from her fur as she shook them from her fur, only to proceed with a hacking cough. A chill ran through the kitten as she desperately tried to scramble over a giant fallen tree, her breathing hard and ragged though it was hard to say if it was from exhaustion or the illness that wracked her tiny frame. Paws scrabbled frantically as she lost her grip and fell into the mud and slid in a divet under the tree, large hacking coughs making her shake. The she-kit rested there in despair, the mud leeching whatever warmth her body had from her. The morning sun was starting to properly rise now, casting her in warming light, nature at war.

She tried to think happy thoughts, but hardly anything really came to mind, only the faint scent of her mother's milk and the faint touch of her belly kept her company. She couldn't really remember her, having realized days ago that she had been abandoned... left to wander forests so full of life and danger. Perhaps that is where it all went wrong, narrowly escaping the jaws of death, the teeth of a red canine's nearly claiming her life. Had it not been a nasty fall into pond covered by foliage, she would be dead now. Gobbled up in one bite! She still considered herself lucky, despite being so ill that she couldn't see straight, shaking so bad she thought her bones must be doing the shaking themselves. Her teeth rattled between her heavy gasps. Just a break, just a little nap couldn't hurt...

Hailstorm had been walking around the territory, sniffing around for prey. Instead something else caught his nose. The smell of a clanless cat. The smell of a clanless kit. He ran towards the source of the smell to find the kit. A kit with no mother around. Hailstorm bent down to see that the kit was under the divet under the Fallen Oak. He prodded her with one paw to check that she was still alive. Still breathing.

Hailstorm prodded the kit, in an attempt to wake her up. "Hey are you okay?" He asked the kit.

Greenleaf was objectively Mistedsong's least favorite season. Leafbare made a close second, but the oppressive heat and lurid humidity made the long-furred tom sweaty at effectively all hours of the day, and he grew tired of it pretty rapidly each cycle. SkyClan territory provided decent shade, fortunately, and at least there was a much better selection of herbs in greenleaf than in leafbare.

The warm, stale air made the medicine cat's temper short, though, and he wasn't exactly happy about the particular cat that had accompanied him on his search for goldenrod. Robintail's presence unsettled him, but it was far better than being thrashed within an inch of his life by a bear-cat anyway.

The grey tom had just paused to rub mud off of his paw onto a tree when a familiar voice met his ears, and he tilted his head curiously. "Did you hear that? It sounded like Hailstorm." Mistedsong found himself unsure why he even asked, given that he didn't actually expect Robintail to respond, so he decided to check things out of his own accord.

His curious white paws sped to a canter as his eyes took in the scene before him. "Oh, StarClan!" he exclaimed as he rushed to stop beside Hailstorm, grasping the kit by the scruff and gently pulling her out from under the tree. "Did you see where she came from?" Mistedsong inquired of the white warrior as he inspected the kit, bending down to press his dark grey ear against her rattling chest. Curiously, the kit did not smell of Clan; how did she get so deep into their territory?

The pure white tom lifted his head to see Mistedsong. "I just found her under this tree. Should we bring her back?" Asked Hailstorm, turning his gaze towards the she-kit. "Should I get something for her to drink? I can go get some wet moss."

Acornpetal, lackadaisical in her enjoyment of the newfound freedom bestowed by her name, had idly been traipsing about in the company of Hailstorm- significant distance often yawning between the relatively lackluster pairing, sparse bits of conversation occasionally unfurling for brief intervals. Stumbling upon the young stray kit was pure happenstance, a stroke of good fortune for the pitiful little lump more than anyone else. It was plain to see that the little molly had been abandoned, perhaps by one of the newfound rogues who seemed to lurk around every corner and within every crevice, left to fend for herself in spite of all the unseen dangers before them.

An odd sensation wreathed its way around her heart, constricting the rhythmic movements until only something asymmetric and abysmal remained. The mewling clump of disarrayed fur, carefully being overseen and tended to by Mistedsong, was rather ugly in all honestly- caught in that awkward phase of life where a kit's features were yet to be defined, tiny nose perpetually scrunched and twisted - and yet, something low and fierce within her drove her steps forward a pace or two.

"There's not a trace of a scent left here," Acornpetal idly responded after a moment, dark gaze softened by a lingering touch of an emotional entirely new and unfamiliar, "If someone intentionally left her here, they're long gone by now. There wouldn't be any opposition if we brought her back to camp." The taste of mud and muck was hard and acidic upon the tongue, an unpleasant texture that clung to the inside of her mouth as she attempted to force any semblance of warmth back into the little molly's body.

Acornpetal liked kits well enough, but she didn't like kits. The spike of emotion pitching in her chest was shocking and unfamiliar, the sudden fixation on the young kit was unprecedented.

Watching an older cat paw through dirt and leaves was not exactly how the young warrior delighted in spending her day. However, it was one of the many duties of a warrior, and one that she would wordlessly resign to. She respected Mistedsong, as both the tom who cared for the clan and conferred with Starclan over matters she would never understand. As they padded along, the warrior stayed alert. Eyes glanced over the rocky terrain, sparse with plants and grown natural in such an untamed forest. There was a very obvious reason she had been given this duty - the rogues were somewhere out there. An untrained cat like Mistedsong was nearly defenseless against those savages. Robintail had hardly tested herself in battle but here skills were sharp and she would be prepared for any flicker of movement.

There was a faint voice not far off. Her ears pricked instantly and her tail lashed as she silently listened. Mistedsong determined it to be Hailstorm and she nodded in agreement. As he followed after the sound, picking up pace, the warrior matched his speed. It didn't take long before the pair stumbled upon Hailstorm and Acornpetal. Quickly the medicine cat had darted forward, exclaiming something. Robintail tilted her head to finally picked out what could have been described as an ugly mess of a kit. It looked like rabbit fur dragged through mud, mostly due to its current condition. It dawned upon her that maybe this was some trap. Rogues had proven they held no reservations when displaying their fury towards the clans. She circled the area with her maw parted, forcing herself to not indulge in a glimpse of Acornpetal's delicate features. It took a moment before she determined there was no scent left behind. This wasn't comforting.

Resigned, she drew back towards her clanmates but let her claws score the earth as they walked. If they were clever enough to disguise their scents, then the Skyclanner would have to be prepared to slit their throats if it came to that. She padded up alongside Acornpetal, breathing in the familiar scent as she watched the medicine cat go about his work and the warrior speak as they assessed the situation. The idea of bringing more foreign blood wasn't appealing, disdain curled under her pelt like a coiled snake, ready strike its venom on some unwilling foe. But seeing such a pitiful creature in such a horrible condition managed to peel back the less desirable emotions for a fleeting moment. Her gaze glanced to the she-cat next to her and Robintail offered a low meow, "Put it on my back, I can carry the kit and keep an eye out in case there's anyone else looking for it. Least we can do it clean it up and make sure it doesn't die." She moved closer, stooping so the limp creature could be strewn across her shoulders. She ground her teeth together for a moment, stealing one more brief glance at Acornpetal.