A Different Kind of Mist Appears [Closed]

Wildstorm headed around SkyClan's territory, on a solo patrol. He was still adjusting to being back in clan life, so this was how he preferred to patrol, but it was awfully quiet. He yawned as he continued around the borders, occasionally marking the borders again to make sure none of the other clans had encroached. The day was especially quiet and it put the gray tom on edge. Usually something happened, or prey would scamper about, but there was nothing. It was eerie and Wildstorm wished something, anything, would happen.

Her heart would have been pounding as she neared Skyclan territory if this wasn't what seemed to be the least important of her tasks in the clans. Well... it was still important. It just had not been a ghost that had haunted the rogue she-cat for many moons. This instance had been liberating, but also unfortunate. Wolffang's kit mewed in a protest as she pushed and half-carried him along. Mistkit had just been born. His birth, much like the others, had been unfortunate, along the Thunderpath. She'd known that she was carrying a kit for a while before she decided to leave Reno. The forest cat, Wildheart, had found her among the city rogues. Their time together was brief, but helpful. He spoke of returning to the clan he had left moons ago. Skyclan. And with that, he had persuaded her to return to reconnect with her kin. After a bit of consideration, and learning of soon to be born kit, Wolffang knew she could not stay with Reno any longer. It had to end.

Her nose twitched as she followed his scent. She remembered it well from their one night together. It was obvious now he had come back as he had so raved about when they were together. After a little while, the fluffy grey pelt came into view. Yellow-amber eyes stared at the warrior. He looked well-fed, while her thin and ragged frame told a different story. Clan life treated those it favored well. Wolffang padded towards him, as briskly as she could while she winced against the stabbing pain in her shoulder. After setting down Mistkit, she let out a raspy meow, "Wildheart... T-this is your son." She could bring herself to say much more than instantly getting straight to the point. Wolffang was weak, and still in a hurry. This needed to be short. Her youngest son would be too young to remember her, the rogue needed to send him off before she got too attached. Skyclan would take care of him.

When Wildstorm wished something would happen, he didn't expect Wolffang to appear and say that they have a child together. "We have a son? Have you named him?" he asked, shocked. He wasn't really sure what to think. And was he supposed to take the mewling kit back with him to the clan?

Meanwhile, the newly born Mistkit was huddled against his mother, the only cat he recognized. The gray kit mewed in protest as he didn't want to be on the slightly dew-y grass.

OOC: Sorry for smol post am no good with the word things

"Well, he certainly isn't Reno's." Wolffang retorted, digging up a bit of her sarcastic spirit to managed the statement. The little bundle certainly resembled his father. She settled back on her haunches after pushing the scrap to her forepaws. He had just been born, right after she had made it to thunderpath. It was then that she knew Skyclan had to be her next stop before Shadowclan and was forced to turn back. Her whole body ached with a mixture of pain from the torn apart flesh on her shoulder and the attempt to recover from birth without a medicine cat. Teeth gritting together in pain, Wolffang's eyes darted up to meet with Wildheart's. Her gaze softened at the memory of the night they had spent together. It was one of the few good memories she had anymore.

"His name is Mistkit. You know why." It was a fairly obvious illusion. The city had been filled with a light mist that night. Wolffang would never forget it. She felt a tug of sadness in her chest as she remembered it all, knowing that their new son and reminder of it all was about to leave for the greater good. As with all the others, it would be selfish to keep her kits for the sole fact she enjoyed their company. Their lives in their separate clans, those who could with their fathers, would be far better than anything she had to offer them. Wolffang was destined to live her life alone. All she would ever be was a brief stain in the lives of her mates and kits. She pushed Mistkit towards his father in a sign of resignation. This wouldn't be her kit anymore. Thankfully, it was before he was too old to remember. All the kit would ever have was most likely a fleeting scent. Other than that, Wolffang would be lost to him.

His eyes clouded over slightly as he remembered their night together. He remembered the mist that had covered the twoleg city. He nodded as he licked the wound on Wolffang's shoulders. "You should come get that looked at by our medicine cats. It looks like it might be infected. Or if it isn't, it will become infected." he said, remaining close to the cat. He bent down to lick the little fuzzball that was his son. He was shivering slightly and mewed in protest at being licked. "Already a fighter, this one. Just like his mother," he said, chuckling.

At Wildheart's suggestion, she quickly shook her head. He did not know about how much she was hated by the clans. Skyclan would more than likely not welcome her kindly. Their only connection to her was blood, dirty blood. The last thing that she wanted to be was in a can camp. As amazing as it sounded, to go back and curl up with the handsome and kind warrior before her and their son, it was an impossible reality. She flinched under the rough of his tongue. It wasn't even a harsh motion, but the severity of the wound was apparent. The rogue she-cat shrugged away the pain as the grey tom looked down at their son, her youngest some. Her eyes softened up at the sight of such an innocent and sweet kit. All of her kits had been blessings she did not deserve. All of them would live better lives without her.

"I would hope so," She managed a rough laugh before breaking into a bought off coughing. Her voice was harsh from so any moons in the smog of the city, "any kit born near the Thunderpath deserves the strength of the toughest warrior." The thoughts of Mistkit growing up into a fine warrior and fighting alongside her father and his father caused a weak smile to flit across her features. It was a beautiful idea. Wolffang would never have the luxury of seeing her kits grow- a fact she had accepted after the birth of Barkpaw and Redpaw. However, the idea still caused her heart to tighten. No matter what, it hurt. After a brief paused of being caught up in the thoughts of her son's future, her eyes snapped up to meet Wildheart's, "It's only right that he be trained up by his father. You need to promise me that you'll make him into a loyal Skyclan warrior."

Wildheart nodded solemnly. He was saddened that he couldn't get Wolffang to come back to SkyClan with him, but he knew that there was no changing her mind once it was set. "I will. He will be the finest warrior SkyClan has ever known!" he said, puffing out his chest. He would teach his son himself, if at all possible. Mistkit merely yawned with a high-pitched squeak; he was still too young to understand much of what was going on. "Now you need to promise me something. Promise me you'll be careful."

She smiled sadly as the handsome warrior puffed out his chest. Mistkit would certainly be in the best paws. Eagleheart would be proud of her son. He would be proud of her for having a kit with a pure Skyclan cat. The she-cat knew her father prided himself in his skills and clan more than anything. All of his kits were subjects of his pride, even the ones in Shadowclan, their only drawback being the fact they were bore to Hazeflight instead of Addergaze. At the thought of Wildheart and Eagleheart standing at each side of her grown son, there was nothing but happiness at the picture. There was a brief tugging at her heart that longed to stay here with Skyclan. The idea of settling down and living a happy life with at least some of her family was very tempting. But never realistic.

"I'll do what I can, Wildheart." Wolffang meowed softly. She took a step closer to the pair and gave them each a lick on the head. Saying goodbye was too painful to think about quite yet. They needed at least a few more moments together. Her voice was filled with curiosity as she meowed, "I'm assuming the clan took you back. Have you spoken to Crowflight?" All those sunsets ago, she had spoken to a lost warrior and convinced him to come home. Their night together was the reason he had returned to the forest, and in turn, he had begun to convince her. It had only taken so long for her to fully convince herself. Last they had spoke, the grey tom hadn't spoken to his father since the dark forest alliance. That was all over now. She hoped if the other Skyclan warrior was still around, that the two had made their peace. wolffang was too young and dumb to put the pieces together and realize that crowstar the leader of skyclan, and crowflight wildheart's father were the same person