#moon 10

Alpinekit was, really, almost too big to carry. Judging by his size, as Moonstar had nothing else to go on, he had to be somewhere around four moons old. In a few short moons, he’d be apprenticing age. Moonstar squinted at the pair of them judgmentally. Alpinekit had to curl his long, skinny back legs close to his body to keep them from dragging on the ground, and Fogfreckle had his head hoisted high in the air so as not to kick him while he walked.

Leafbare was settling across the mountain. It had snowed the night prior, leaving every surface glittering upon waking. It made Moonstar nervous. The higher up this mountain they climbed, the farther from their old territory, the worse it was going to get. Windier, colder, deeper. She had no experience with this, as she’d never even dreamed of being this far from home, but she’d heard tales passed down through the generations. The mountain got harsher higher up. That’s why NimbusClan had settled somewhere near the base, overlooking the meadow. 

They had never braved a mountain leafbare this high up before – and never alone. Certainly never with a young kit to care for. The responsibility was weighing heavily upon Moonstar’s shoulders.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” Moonstar pressed, lowering her head to squint suspiciously at the kit. “What’s a kit doing alone on the side of the mountain?”

This, at least, finally got a response from Fogfreckle. “What are we doing alone on the side of the mountain?” He managed around the bundle of fur in his mouth, sliding his gaze towards Moonstar. Even with one of Alpinekit’s gigantic, bat-like ears blocking half of his face, Moonstar could clearly make out the challenging glint in his eye. The unspoken “leave it”.

Alright. Enough prodding.

Only a beat of silence passed between the pair of them before Moonstar was talking again, clawing a desperate escape out of this tension-thick silence. She leaned in close to Alpinekit, who shot her a confused, wary sort of look, the corner of his lip quivering like he was shaping his mouth around a hiss. Rude little thing. That was fine – she wasn’t overly fond of him, either. He shrank away from her, curling his lanky body into a tighter ball. “He’s got to be only a few moons shy of when you and I were apprenticed. Don’t you think?” She addressed Fogfreckle. He was once again staring resolutely forward at the glittering landscape, ignoring his sister. His wide gait was leaving soft paw-shaped indents in the snow, Alpinekit’s long tail dragging a thin line between them. “I wonder which of us I should choose to mentor him, when the time comes…”

Alpinekit’s little brow furrowed in further confusion, though he stayed as silent as Fogfreckle. Peas in a pod already, Moonstar thought grimly.

She straightened back up with a sigh, tipping her head skyward as she padded alongside her brother and his newly adopted son. Puffs of white clouds scudded cheerfully across the expanse of blue, as if they hadn’t dumped a world of snow on them just the night prior. She wondered if,  should they get high enough up the mountain, she’d be close enough to the clouds to see her ancestors frolicking among their puffy white peaks.

It was weird to think that her brother was a dad now. That made her aunt to this scraggly little kit, technically, which was an even stranger thought. She didn’t feel quite ready for it. She had always thought her parents would still be around to see her or her brother forge families of their own. Fogfreckle had accepted responsibility for this lost kit so quickly, without hesitation, without question. He had jumped at the chance to take on this kit as eagerly as one would pounce on a mouse. An extra mouth to feed, an extra life to look after. Someone new to protect.

A pang of grief spread through Moonstar’s chest like a roll of distant thunder. Despite the horror and the trauma and the hardships, Moonstar had gotten used to traveling with just her brother at her side. NimbusClan was no longer just the pair of them, anymore. That was the weirdest thought of all.

The ground sloped gently downward around a bend, their parth curving past a pair of prickly pine trees that were leaning against one another. A small clearing opened up before them, dotted with evergreen bushes topped with little nests of snow. Leaf litter poked up through the snow on the ground, crunching underpaw as they padded into the clearing. On their way through, a faint mewling sound reached Moonstar’s ears and she paused, ears swiveling.

“Do you hear that?”

Fogfreckle slowed and turned to face her, a questioning expression on his face. Alpinekit’s ears were tall atop his head and his intense eyes were focused on a spot somewhere beyond Moonstar.

The soft mewling started up again and this time Fogfreckle’s ears pricked, his eyes going round and curious.

Moonstar followed Alpinekit’s stare, turning to look over her shoulder. Her ears flicked. “I think it’s coming from this bush.” Moonstar padded cautiously over to one of the evergreens. The mewling strengthened as she got closer. Moonstar dug a paw into the needly branches of the bush to part them.

Beneath the bush was a kit.

Another kit.

This one was smaller than Alpinekit, younger, with an orange tabby pelt and striking green eyes. Its mewling ceased as Moonstar parted the branches. It looked up at her with a fearless, curious tilt of its head.

Fogfreckle padded up behind Moonstar to glance curiously over her shoulder, and the siblings shared a look of surprise.

At least it’s not a fox kit, Moonstar thought with short-lived relief. Before Fogfreckle could get a single word out around Alpinekit’s scruff (he still hadn’t put the kit down), the kitten reprised its raucous mewling. Moonstar’s ears flattened against her skull, but it didn’t do much to block out the noise. Heaving a sigh, she bent to sniff at the orange kitten. There was no milky mother’s scent that clung to his pelt, nor the scent of any other cat at all. He must have been alone for a while, though he didn’t look too worse for wear. He was skinny, but his eyes were bright and his pelt smoother and fluffier than Alpinekit’s.

That wouldn’t last for long if they left him here. It was a wonder he hadn’t attracted a predator with all that mewling before they came upon him. Perhaps the kit’s parent had left him here in the safety of the bush to hunt, and met an unfortunate end before they could return. Moonstar shuddered at the thought. Perhaps he had just wandered away and got lost. Either way, her conscience would weigh on her if she left him here.

Moonstar skirted a glance at her brother, who was smirking at her around Alpinekit’s scruff with a knowing kind of gleam in his eyes. With another sigh, she hoisted the ginger kit up by his scruff and dragged him out of the bush.

Straightening up, she caught Fogfreckle’s entirely-too-pleased expression in her periphery. “Don’t”, she warned around a mouthful of orange fur, and the four of them set off back up the mountain.

Nighthawkflicker breaks the peace. "That is not a cat anymore!" She yowls as she steps out of the Healer's Den.

Right on her heels was Cowbirdsoar. "Please, just hear me out." He tries to keep his voice low, but the damage is done. All eyes are on him.

Madtomtuft is quick on her paws. "What's going on?"

Cowbirdsoar opens his mouth, but Nighthawkflicker is faster. "Plumekit is infected."

No. Madtomtuft's ears fell back. Not another cat… please. She looks to her uncle for help, but he can't meet her eyes. Sickness grips her belly, tugging her down. She presses her claws against the stone. I haven't even gotten to know her. Please, Starclan.

"Are you… certain?" Brambleclash tries to keep her tone neutral. But a slight waver gives her away. Madtomtuft presses into her, offering comfort.

Nighthawkflicker bristles."If you don't believe me, you can see for yourself."

Hope sparks in her chest. Just a simple check, and I can prove she's wrong. Then, the fear creeps in. It ties her paws to the floor. And if she’s not wrong? Madtomtuft curls her tail closer.

"I believe you." Brambleclash steps forward.

Madtomtuft shakes away her fear. They had to be wrong- I have to prove them wrong. She moves closer to the healer's den, forcing herself to look inside.

There's Rhubarbkit and… oh. Her hope withers as her eyes find Plumekit. The white kit huddles beside her sister, her eyes wide and rimmed with red.

Maybe… Madtomtuft struggles for an excuse. The kit could be tired, she could have gotten something in her eye. But none of those explain the wrongness she feels, looking at Plumekit.

She speaks up then, her voice small. "What… what can we do?"

The camp is silent, and the air is thick with the words that cannot be said. Each cat keeps their eyes downcast. All except for Nighthawkflicker.

She looks at each of her clanmates, her tail lashing. When no one meets her gaze, she speaks. "We have to kill her."

Cowbirdsoar yowls, "No!" The tom moves to defend his daughter. He places himself at the mouth of the Healer's den. "Please, you can't kill her."

Nighthawkflicker lowers her hackles. "I'm sorry, Cowbird, but she's not your kit anymore."

He shakes his head.

"As much as you want to deny it, she's one of them now." She steps closer to the healer. "We have to get rid of her before she kills us all."

He looks to the others for support, but neither molly meets his gaze. Madtomtuft wants to be on his side. She wants to help them. But if Plumekit is … she might be past saving.

Cowbirdsoar takes a minute. The desperation in his eyes does not fade; instead, it twists into determination. "What if I cure her?" He speaks quickly, refusing to let anyone get a word in. "She's in a very early stage of the disease. I can cure her; she won't, won't turn into a monster. And the only way that I can do that is if, if you let her live." He stands firm, eyes meeting Nighthawkflicer's.

His expression sparks Madtomtuft's memories. He wore that same, terrified, determined look when he carried her out of camp. He had defended her then. And now, he needs her.

"Let's give him the chance."

The others turn to look at her.

"You can't be serious, Madtom!" Nighthawkflicker hisses.

"I am." Madtomtuft places her paw on Nighthawkflicker's. "If we give him some time-"

She pulls her paw away. "He's had nothing but time! He's had ten moons."

"And I've spent those moons running the clan." Cowbirdsoar shook his head. "Please, Nighthawkflicker. She can stay out in the infected den. I can test different herbs and find us a cure." He narrows his eyes. "But I can't do that if you kill my daughter."

She lashes her tail.

Please, be smart. Madtomtuft tries to touch her denmate again. Instead, she draws further back.

"Fine," She hisses. "You have one moon." She presses her face closer to Cowbirdsoar, her teeth on display. "I just hope your experiment doesn't cost you your living daughter."

Cowbirdsoar did not wilt under her gaze. Instead, he narrows his eyes. "I will not lose either kit."

Nighthawkflicker scoffs and turns away. "I'm going on patrol." And just like that, she's gone.

Madtomtuft watches her leave, then turns back to her uncle. His determination is still there, but he's tired. He's won the battle, but he knows that he's started a war.

She moves to comfort him. But Brambleclash is there. The molly grooms his head, pressing against him.

The moment feels almost private. Madtomtuft turns away. He had comfort. Which left one clanmate unaccounted for.

"I'll be back," she mews to her clanmates, before heading out after Nighthawkflicker.