Who left this here? (open)

Under a bramble bush, the sharp edges of the thorns and leaves seemingly pulled up purposely, something moved. The small figure lay on top of a layer of leaves hastily chewed off, perhaps to protect it from the cold of the frozen mud, the snow dug back by small paws. The little figure shivered from the cold, ears and tail trembling with the force of her movements. The tiny brown tabby was only days old, eyes and ears still tightly closed. She still smelled like milk and her mother's scent, a scent that led away into the marsh and towards the border, if one were determined enough to follow it. And the scent was very clearly not clan.
The tiny kit made a soft noise as she slowly became aware she was on her own, the sounds increasing both in length and volume when she was not immediately covered in warm fur and a loving tongue. The noises became shrill and demanding when the kit accidentally brushed against a thorn, the pain a foreign thing, something to be frightened off. While the kit was not aware of much, she seemed to know that she was in dire trouble. Her head slid back and forth on the ground, too weak to pick it up, but stubborn enough to keep searching. She picked up her cries again, the sound wavering as she shivered.

[Her form is here; https://warriorclancats.forumotion.com/t27384-fallenkit-the-rogue]

Finally! He got a break! Hunting was so much work. Swiftpaw lay casually in the middle of the camp, resting his aching paws. He had been on them almost all night long, trying to hunt for scarce prey. Now, he was glad that he was done until tomorrow. Well, that was until he heard an odd yet familiar sound. It was faint and small, almost like that of a mouse but it was too different. Lifting his head, the apprentice glanced around the camp to try to find where the noise came from. Ear flicking, he almost dismissed it as his head playing tricks on him until he heard it again. Curiosity getting the better of him, he ignore the pain in his feet to check out the noise coming from the brambles at the edge of camp. As he grew closer, the small cries grew louder until his eyes landed on a small bundle of fur barely moving other than the violent shivers from the cold coursing through its body.

What are you doing out here, little buddy?" Swiftpaw asked, staring down at what was obviously a new little kit. "We need to take you to the nursery!" he meowed, doing his best to try to pick up the kit without hurting it. However, it was something he hadn't done before and as he tried to pick her up by the scruff of her neck, he had to try and reposition her at least three or four times before being successful. Awkwardly, he moved about until he reached the nursery, calling in for any of the queens and setting the kit down gently in a warm nest. "Can someone help please?" he asked rather casually for such a strange situation.

The tiny kit's cries lowered as she felt the familiar feeling of tugging at her scruff, but she made a loud, shrill noise every time she was put back down. No, she did not want to put down! Down was cold, and painful! Finally, she was pulled up and her limbs instinctively tucked in, stubby tail curling around her hind leg as she was finally quiet.
When she was put down again, she gave a sharp cry before realizing that this wasn't cold. She made soft noises as she nosed her way around, trying to move forward towards the scent that had carried her, but her legs seemed to all be moving in different directions. If anything, she was going sideways instead of forward. She gave another sharp cry, loud and shrill, even more so than before now that her shivers were slowing minutely. She didn't know what had happened, but she knew she was warm, and she knew her middle was knotted painfully and was rumbling loudly. She'd never been this hungry before, but she knew what would fix it. So the kit set to squealing as loud as she could, over and over until someone would come over and feed her. And she sure had the lungs for it.