a shadowclan adoption run

Dawn was breaking but the sky over the edge of the marshes was dark with shadows circling in the early morning, obscuring the crescent moon and paling sky. A solitary raven led a swarm of crows, sweeping the border between the marshes and the wastelands. His cry was answered with a volley. He had seen a cat at the edge of the marshes.

Kraaaa! …kaa kaa kaa kaa! Descending in a whistle of feathers, the shadows encircled it, eyes glinting. Nimbly the flock pushed it towards the wastes, swirling and ducking cautiously out of range of teeth and claws. Finally the flock dispersed in front of a small tattered human structure, winged shadows freeing the cat.

The structure dumped on the edge of the carrion place had been hollowed out, its soft cloth walls reinforced, and some of the wooly stuffing that was good for nests left inside for the kitten. She slept curled nose-under-tail between two crow-mothers, white as the moon against their inky iridescent feathers.

The raven alighted on the edge of the nest, peering down intently at his charge with sharp dark eyes. She had been a dirty scrap when he had found her, the crows peeking with curiosity. The raven had swooped in to claim the kitten and the responsibility of all of them to care for her.

There was an ancient alliance. The cats didn’t remember but his kind had once delivered prophecy and insight, heralded bloodshed and battle and foretold victory, protected and guided the spirits of the dead to the stars—and been a practical way to dispose of the remains. Now the birds were an insult, but they at least kept their end of the bargain.

A kitten had been abandoned in their hunting grounds, left for crowfood. He was clever enough to clean and feed a kitten that had still needed milk. Her fur was soft and clean and, though she remained slight and small, she was well-fed with the freshest carrion. The raven, rooks, jays, magpies, crows—like siblings to one another—had searched for the kitten’s family and, in the absence of one, had cared for her and kept a watch on the marsh-border for a cat of ShadowClan.

The raven watched the kitten wake to the commotion of wings as shadows alighted around her. She raised her little white head, eyes slowly and sleepily brightening at the recognition of each member of her flock. Then eyes widening, silvery and round, as she stared anxiously at the cat she had just seen approaching over the raven’s shoulder. She looked to him fearfully with the corners of her eyes. Therru, he soothed her with a rough croon, hopping back to let the cat close. 

The flock watched with hard, weary eyes. He would let the cat take her, and follow at a distance.