Endsteps of Moonpaw

Moonpaw wandered the great moor that housed Windclan. There was no prey here he could catch, or just barely so, the occasional mouse perhaps. It's a wonder he lived so long. He never wanted to return to Shadowclan... He wanted to join Windclan. But he must find them first, and then their leader. He wandered the plains until he collapsed of exhaustion. Every rib stuck out of his skin, which was so tight over his bones he seemed to have nothing inside. Except hope, but even that was diminishing quickly. He knew he could continue no longer, and began to settle into a sleep for which he may never wake from...

The sun beat down on him as he was jolted out of his death sleep. Barely so, less jolted and more lightly roused. But he heard a rustling in the bushing, and he doubted it was friendly.

Runningpaw emerged from the bushes with her lips pulled back into a snarl and then it ceased. Seeing that the young tom was deeply in trouble, she rushed to his side. Although the smell of ShadowClan filled her nostrils, the young she-cat mewed softly, "I am here to help and I won't hurt you or let anyone else." Runningpaw grabbed the tom by the scruff of his neck and started to pull him along a beated down trail back to camp.

He coughed weakly. He didn't trust this stranger but he had no choice but to go along with him. But he couldn't go on. He coughed and murmured, 'Silver...kit...'. He breathed his last and went limp.
At the same time, another rustle in the bushes happened. A small kit with grey fur that seemed to shine in the sunlight bounded out. His skin was pulled tight over his bones and he looked as weak as Moonpaw. But, a more fierce determination shone in his eyes. He couldn't have been more than three weeks old, but he seemed to have been already weaned. He could see perfectly fine and with his deep blue eyes saw his dead father on the ground, and his mournful wail was heavy as he collapsed. But he still breathed, his heart still beat. There was hope for him yet.

Runningpaw knowing what happened dropped the dead cat. "May he be with StarClan now", the she-cat whispered to herself. Seeing the bush move Runningpaw watched as a small kit emerged. Horror filled her eyes and soul, she couldn't believe that someone would let a kit starve. "May I help?" She asked pushing closer hoping the kit was strong enough to answer.

The kit was starving but oddly strong. "Is... is daddy dead?" He asked quietly.

Daddy? Runningpaw thought in question to herself. A few moments of silence went by, "Yes" Runningpaw moved closer to the kit. "May I take you back to WindClan camp?" The she-cat questioned the young kit. She knew it probably wasn't the best time to ask but she had to get him back to camp so that he even had a chance of survival.

He nodded weakly, still staring at the limp form of his father.

butteflywing was walking around after being stuck in the nursery and scented runningpaw and two others. she quickly padded over to find a small kit and a dead apprentice "ill take the kit you move the apprentice and we will bearie( cant think of how to spell it sorry) him when we have others" she said and grabbed the kits scruff and padded off toward the camp

(I love how you just saw a dead apprentice and are like, lolkay)

Silverkit whimpered softly as he was carried away and his father was lost from sight.

butterflywing tried to make the ride as soft as she could as she carried the kit but had to set him down a few times to get a better grip, till they got to the camp.

occ:yea I know right lol

(let's wait for running now, I'm at the camp x3)