Crowfood

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.

Frostgaze's wounds still hurt from the battle with Vea and her band of rogues. Yet he decided to return, if only for the sake of ensuring the one rogue that had escaped hadn't returned. He had left late in the night, and many of his clanmates had been starting to ready themselves for sleep. He, however, had decided that the rouges, if they returned, would likely do so when Shadowclan slept. He would not let them return so easily.

It was for this reason, that he went onto high alert when he scented a fresh, unknown scent. Crouching low, Frostgaze hurried forward, wanting to take whatever this was by surprise. He was surprised to find, however, birds. Many birds. Likely there to feed upon the carrion for which the place was named. Upon closer inspection, however, a small bit of white poked through. He approached cautiously, but curiously. The birds hopped back, and he could see the intelligence that all ravens had glinting in their beady eyes. He looked down at the pale kit, curiosity in his gaze, any true expression would hurt the fresh scars upon his face. "Greetings little one. My name is Frostgaze, what is yours? I would also like to ask where your family is." He had to get right to the point. If there were rogues around... he had to warn the clan, whether they were the ones they faced previously... or a new band to worry about.

The little white kitten blinked up at the cat with fur as pale as hers, cautious curious gazes mirrored. 

She stared at him agape at the rumble of his mew. She had never heard a feline voice. She had only heard the voices of her flock, but somehow she understood Frostgaze’s words.

She wanted to answer Frostgaze. She opened and closed her mouth but no mew came out. She was old enough to have begun to speak but she couldn’t speak to the birds. She’d never made a sound, not a cry or a purr. She looked helplessly to the raven. Therru, his croon soothed again, maybe that was her name.

Frostgaze’s words seemed to have reassured the flock, who ruffled their feathers and let out a series of approving caws. The two crow-mothers untangled themselves from the nest and the raven nudged her gently towards Frostgaze.

She stood on wobbly slender little legs and bravely approached Frostgaze until she was almost stepping on his paws. She looked up with a bright silvery gaze into his freshly scarred face and piercing eyes. His mew had been comforting. She knew she would go with him into the marshes.

Her head swivelled to look around at her flock, the only family she knew, the sweep of her tail back-and-forth indicating them all to Frostgaze – her family.

And then her family took flight, ascending in a swirl of shadows, the crows disappearing deeper into the carrion place while the raven flew towards the marshes where Frostgaze would take her. At his paws, she twined her little tail around his foreleg apprehensively, looking up at him with wide shining eyes.

i hope it's ok i started a topic in shadowclan camp <3

If cats had eyebrows, Frostgaze's would have been raised. The kit apparently could not speak. He watched as she approached until she was nearly underneath him, and her gesture at the raven and crows. Fascinating... "Have they helped you little one? Usually these birds are simple scavengers, but if they have helped you live, then I suppose we should both be thankful to them. Here," He lowered himself to the ground, "get on my back. I will take you to our camp, Shadowclan camp. It is home to many cats, and you are a young kit out on your own, it is my duty to bring you back so that we may protect you. Then teach you to protect yourself." When she did eventually climb onto his back, he began moving back to camp. The added weight strained his wounds, but nothing reopened, even if the ache was there. It was interesting, finding another kit out and about, but kits needed protectors, else they would not get what they needed.