|:| dripping frost |:| [OPEN to all of Riverclan, Fishstar needed]

By the time Snowpaw had been half carried, half dragged through the snow by Poplarpaw, she almost couldn't feel her limbs.

The apprentice, still nearly the size of a mere kit, her pelt blending in with the piles of snow covering the camp, couldn't even bear to look around in awe. Being with Poplarpaw had been one thing, but being taken before a clan—cats everywhere, appearing from their dens, judging her—was too much. She shrank into the larger tom, his fur reminding her of the fluff of Heavypaw. The one thought of her beloved littermate sent her head into a spiral and she crouched in the middle of camp, whimpering quietly, her eyes squeezed shut.

I sound like a kit—what am I doing here?—they'll kill me, like he killed D-Dawn—wow, they really do smell like fish—the leader won't take me in. With a shudder, she recalled Dawn's words. I'm pathetic.

Her muscles tightly bunched together, she waited for what was going to happen, her heart beat thumping an ancient rhythm, bad-um, bad-um, bad-um, through her small body.

The cat hunched in the middle of Riverclan's camp could almost be mistaken for a snowdrift.

Morningfog peered out of the nursery, seeing if there was anything new on the pile. She noticed her son with a small cat bunched up. She looked closer, this cat's fur was drenched... Morningfog slipped herself away from her kits and bound up to the two of them. "What happened?" she asked, fearing for the small cat's safety.

Swiftheart stepped out and saw her apprentice. She looked into the clearing. It looked like a snowpile, but still not quite.

Tawnystorm padded out of her den, on the way to a patrol, when the white lump stopped her in her tracks. Was that a snowdrift? No, was it....moving? "What is that?" she questioned, walking over. She gently prodded Snowpaw, seeing if she'd react. "Is it...breathing?

Poplarpaw stood over the younger apprentice, trying desperately to hide the worry in his gaze. He flinched a bit as the she-cat pressed into his side, which made him begin to wonder if she was afraid. What was there to be afraid of? He thought, glancing at his clan mates of which were emerging from their dens in confusion. There was getting in trouble to be afraid of, but that's nonsense, there's not any reason to think about that now, this apprentice is hurt, you have to find Cloudstone, or Fishstar, where are they?

"Cloudstone! Fishstar?" He called, not exactly wanting to leave the she-cat alone in the center of camp, she was already scared and obviously hurt, he doubted she wanted the flood of questions the RiverClan cats would throw at her.

He glanced to the side, and the pelt of his mother caught his eye. "Morningfog! Do you think you could find Cloudstone for me?" He called toward her.

Dawnpaw had just returned from her rather... disapointing... attempt to persuade Fishstar to let the friendly rogue tom, Fernpaw, to join the clan. She still couldn't work out why she felt like she wanted him in Riverclan so badly, but the sleek apprentices thoughts were disturbed by the commotion not too far away. She caught sight of her brother, Poplarpaw, and rushed over.

"Poplarpaw? What's going on?" she asked, with a hint of worry in her voice once she saw a white bundle leaning on him. Once she realized it was a cat, she gave a (slightly worried) warm smile. She didn't smell like Riverclan. She wasn't a RC cat, so who was she? Why was she with Dawnpaw's brother? Though thoughts rushed through her head, the grey she-cat still wanted to at least seem friendly.

"Tawnystorm, don't just prod at the poor thing!" she scolded the older warrior.

At her son's call, Morningfog nodded, turning while thinking in her mind which would need to be found first. She decided that Cloudstone was the most important to get, that cat needed treatment. "One of you get ready to find Fishstar or Cloudstone if they're out of camp, the rest of you should try to get that cat dry and warm them up." she meowed and bound to Cloudstone's den to hopefully, get his help.

"Cloudstone! There's a cat out here that needs your help, they're soaked and bunched up." meowed the she-cat as she entered the den. Her tail stirred the snow outside. After that, she turned to head for their leader's den, hoping she was in her nest. "Fishstar?" she called into the den, not entering this time, "My son brought a cat into camp, they don't look their best and no one knows where he found them."