Stars on the Shore [Closed]

Owlpaw walked silently along his mentor, Perchstar. His blue eyes focused on the path in front of them as they walked along the river's edge, checking the border on their dawn patrol. The easy silence helped relax the tom, as his eyes took in the area around him. The rising sun was dancing off the water as it ran down its set path. The sky was painted all sorts of colors with small clouds dotting the sky.

Overall the brown apprentice felt rather at ease, despite being rather tired from having to awaken early. As the pair continued down the path something in the distance caught the apprentice's attention. He couldn't quite tell what it was from this distance. A dark formless shape sat on the ground a distance in front of them. With a glance to his leader, Owlpaw stepped closer until a sharp scent hit his nose. It didn't smell good at all. As he breathed in again the scent fully hit him.. Blood..

Blue eyes looked up at his mentor, concern evident on his features. "Perchstar..?" He asked, cautiously. As much as part of him wanted to dash forward and see what was happening, he wouldn't without word from her.

Dawn broke over RiverClan territory. Gentle orange light washed down over willow and beech trees, flooding foot-deep across soft grass. Perchstar was not sure whether she preferred sunrise or sunset best; both were reassuringly beautiful in their own ways. Sunrise promised the light of a new day, and endless possibilities stretching out across pale yellow sky. Sunset put worries and fears to bed, allowing the world a moment of respite from light and duty. But right now she was out with Owlpaw, her older apprentice, surveying the territory on their way. The river border was a long one, nearing both ThunderClan and SkyClan's territories, but they had yet to run into any other cats. It was peaceful.

Of course, peace never lasted. Just as Owlpaw did, Perchstar saw the shadowed form, lying completely motionless some fox-lengths away. The familiarly acrid stench of blood reached the back of her throat at the same time. Her hackles rose. Something here was dead. But... what had killed it? She didn't see any other cats, or smell any predator or Clan scents. It was... odd. "Be careful," she warned Owlpaw tersely. No danger seemed imminent, but looks could be deceiving. However, a few moments made her certain that nothing would jump out to get her if she crept closer to inspect the body. So, the leader moved forward, placing paws hesitantly and lightly. A quiet fear tightened her lungs. What if this was someone she knew? One of her warriors? Had anyone been unaccounted for the previous night?

But as she approached, her fears were replaced by confusion. The dead body was that of a cat. However... it was not a cat she had ever seen before. The form not one that she recognized, and the thick stench of blood masked nearly all other scents. She caught something under it, however--a smell that she'd noticed often on her sojourn through Twolegplace. "A rogue." So, this must not have been a Clan cat. Further inspection revealed a lack of wounds on the cat's body. Then what had killed them? Her answer was found in a quiet, mewling cry. Several squirming forms that she'd missed before, coated in blood and fluids, wriggled by the corpse's belly. Oh. A mother. Judging by the placement of the blood, then, it seemed likely that the birth itself had killed her. What was a rogue doing so far into Clan territory? And was there any father to be found? Uncertainty stayed Perchstar's paws as she stood, looking with a mix of pity and apprehension.

Owlpaw cautiously followed after his mentor, his eyes flicking around looking for any lurking dangers that might appear, afraid something was still lingering around that caused this death. He didn't ask any questions as he observed the body, but he couldn't help the small gasp that escaped him as he saw the kits. They were so small.. So.. frail.. Pity gripped his heart. Such an unfortunate circumstance. Blue eyes turned away from the gruesome scene in front of him, looking in the option direction from which their little patrol came. There were no signs of life, no other scent hiding underneath the scent of death.. Was this queen on her own?

"I.. Well.. We can't leave them here can we?" The code said not to ignore kits.. even if these weren't Riverclan kits, they just couldn't leave them. Blue eyes turned to look at Perchstar, feeling just about the same things the leader was. He didn't want to feel like he was stepping out of line with his next words, but if it would help the situation then he was going to say it. "My mother just had a litter.. She can take care of them." He paused.. "If need be." He added. He didn't want to leave them behind, couldn't bear the thought of leaving such small creatures to die, but he knew it wasn't his call to make.

--

One of the small darker kittens squirmed before letting out a cry. The heat source he sought out slowly seemed to fade and nothing but cold was remaining, He was unhappy, and wanted comfort.

Perchstar's eyes were fixed on the kits for a few silent heartbeats. This could have been her. If she wasn't a leader; if she was unlucky; if her kits' birth had killed her. She could have been found stranded on RiverClan territory, abandoning her kits, just hoping silently for someone to find them and take them in. She'd already reached the same conclusion as Owlpaw before the apprentice opened his mouth. "They have no home," she murmured in agreement. If they had been from a Clan, she would have returned them; if their mother had been alive, she would have let her take them to Twolegplace. But leaving abandoned kits alone was not only against the warrior code, but also against any decent moral code. They had nowhere to go. "Let's take them back. The queens can nurse them. Kits have committed no crime; they deserve safety and rest." Without further ado, the leader grabbed one of the kits, cleaning him off briefly before taking his scruff in her teeth. There would be no pretense made of lying to them about the circumstances of their birth. However, with time and training, they would belong in RiverClan just as surely as anyone else.

-

The tom-kit let out a quiet mewl when he was picked up, squirming with unhappiness at being removed from what he perceived as safety and familiarity. The scent of his mother grew cold and distant. However... there was warmth behind him. Teeth gently holding his scruff; breath blowing onto him. What had his mother smelled like, anyway? Eventually, the kit's protests stopped, and he hung loosely from Perchstar's jaws.

A pale she-kit squirmed among her siblings, letting out a loud mewl of frustration at the stickiness that clung to her white fur. All she knew was that it was uncomfortable, and she was hungry, and the once warm body that was curled around her and the little bundles next to her wasn't warm. Why?

Angrily wriggling as the heat sources of his siblings began to be removed from his side, the dark-colored tom wormed his way toward one of his remaining siblings, desperate to find comfort once more. The largest heat source had gone away, and now the small ones he had left were disappearing. Worried mewls were released as he moved across the ground, covering himself in more grime and dirt. His priority was finding the heat sources, that was all.

Owlpaw nodded, pleased with his leader's answer. Pride swelling in the tom's chest from his leader's actions, thankful to have a leader such as her in the clan and as his mentor. The brown tom was quick to scoop up one of the kits, cleaning it carefully just as Perchstar had done before carrying it by the scruff as well. He looked back at the other kits who all needed to be carried as well, and let out a small silent sigh. This was going to be a long trip back. Not to mention they never finished their patrol... Oh well, someone else would pick up where they left off.. as well as take care of the now deceased rogue.