Take fire, by adding more fire

The wind is a cold breeze, leaves falling tightly on the clan, overgrown by a small pile of snow.

Primrose'kit walked into a cold pile of leaves on the painted forest floor. he was still in the clan but it was filled with leaves and warriors and so. he wasn't as lucky as the others but that was kept to himself. he was 4 moons now and it seemed like forever since he got to be lulled to sleep by his mother and father. they were taken to be kittypets now, found patroling. "how cold the days have been. i wish there was something here."