Taken by Sleep [Closed]

ooc: for lichen kibbens, canren, and baby stealers

It was not long after the barn was emptied that Burntkit began to grow restless. They had been left with none other than Canren to keep them entertained while the rest of the cats went off to fight the evil of the clans. After resting with his head over his forepaws for some time, the young long-furred calico stood and shook the remnants of hay from his fur. He did not enjoy how much the substance seemed to cling to his coat. Constant grooming was required to clear the debris that threatened to embed itself into his fur. His sharp, green eyes glared back at the straw that threatened to mat itself in his pelt. With a soft huff of disdain, the tom reached back to clear it away. As he did so it occurred to him how silly it was. Cats were out there fighting for their lives and he and his littermates were nestled comfortably here with Shade's son as their overseer. He wasn't going to have it.

"Get up. We're going to follow them." Burntkit meowed as he trotted over to Redkit and shook her with a forepaw. He did the same to the rest of the sleeping kits before marching up to Canren and announcing, "We're going to the battle. You can follow or not but we're going." His words, still lined with the indignation of his youth, were almost a challenge. Without waiting for a response, the tom led the way to a crack in the barn wall.

Tracking the group was not difficult. The scents of many cats all mixed together seemed to soak into the forest floor, sending them right in the direction of fourtrees. Because of their age and the lack of the ability to keep on task, progress was slow going but Burntkit kept them moving forward. His own determination kept his paws on task. Even though it was a long distance for kits, Lichenmask's son found energy in the prospect at paw. As the territory transformed from the dead grasses around the abandoned barn to the wide-open terrain, Burntkit found himself uncomfortable under the open sky. His discomfort only grew as the clouds twisted and the red glow that he had grown up under became the pale white glow of the moon. Confusion overtook the kit and caused his head to tip sideways at the curious event but he said nothing as he trotted on towards fourtrees.

Once they got to the edge of the vast clearing, his paws stopped. Below was carnage unlike he had ever witnessed in his young life. Another kit might have screamed at the horrid sight below but his curiosity was only peaked about what had happened below. There was no sight of Lichenmask. Burntkit tried to keep his paws steady as he rushed down the length of the steep clearing edge. When he skidded to a halt was when he noticed a particularly still frame. Abandoning the others without a word he silently reached the edge of Aspenpaw. Although rather unhinged, Burntkit had found amusement and entertainment with his father's one-eyed follower. For a moment he simply blinked, not quite processing the whole notion of death. When the shadow of another cat appeared over him, his maw finally moved and he spoke matter-of-factly, "He's dead."

Canren enjoyed the kit's company. Even if his father despised the fact that he was "corrupting their minds", he wanted to spend time with them. They were good to him, for better or worse. They were all asleep right now, and he was laying rather close to them. His father would kill him once he returned, but hopefully, that didn't happen. Canren hoped Shade had been killed. He hadn't seen Cinderfall for a while either, he might be dead... He hadn't seen him in the spot he was confined to, but couldn't imagine where else he was. It worried him deeply.

His amber eyes shined every so often when lightning struck somewhere nearby. It was close, you could tell by the loud rumbling of thunder. As if someone was angry. He watched Burntkit awaken, and could see that he was thinking about something. He saw him wake the others, and Canren got to his paws. Was something wrong? The young calico tom padded up to him. "Well, I won't let you all go alone. It could be dangerous." With hope in his heart, he began following the kits, bringing up the rear so none would fall behind.

As they began to approach what Canren could only assume was the battleground, the moon appeared once more from behind retreating storm clouds. Blood scent mingled with smoke reached his nose as they approached the clearing, the battle clearly having finished only a little while ago. The brown tabby tom approached the front of their little group and looked over the clearing. The Exiles and rogues had been decimated. He saw mostly the dead bodies of Exiles, he saw few of the rogues that he had been with. Perhaps his father was just farther out.

The sheer amount of carnage made Canren's fur bush out in distress. He limped along after Burntkit, looking on at the bodies of the Exiles he had barely known. He was sure the kits must've made some friends with these cats. "We don't have to look at the dead, come along perhaps there is something better to look at here..." Canren struggled to find anything better than the sight of dead bodies. He swept a few of the kits along with his bushy tail, trying to comfort any of the ones that found it hard to look at this- this carnage before them.

(ooc: could baby stealers come after Shade has dragged Canren away, please and thanks)

A paw shook her out of her fitful, twitchy rest, and for that she was great-ful. Bleary green eyes looked up to see her brother, Burntkit and not Slatekit. Redkit's gut twisted as she thought about her brother, feelings too complex for the little she-kit to truly comprehend. Stumbling onto her paws she followed after her brother, making sure to keep as much distance from Slatekit as she could. As the group progressed she grew more and more tired, but the color of everything changed and shifted, her eyes widening in shock. "W-What's that?" She sputtered weakly, bumping into Canren as she stumbled to a halt. As if just realizing Canren was there she looked up to him and quickly stuck to his side as if she was a burr on his fur.

Redkit stayed that way as they crested over the hill to Four-trees, once more she stumbled to a stop as her eyes caught all the blood and damage in it. Some live cats still lingering as her gaze searched the area desperately for her mother, for her father. Burntkit had already rushed down to see Aspenpaw, unsure as to why her brother liked Aspenpaw in the first place. She knew all of these cats, she played with them all at some point, made friends with them. And they were gone, but surely her mother was sti- no... her gaze found the form of her mother and she shot down as fast as her little legs could take her. "Mom! Mom!" She squealed, tripping and stumbling all the way until she skidding to a sloppy stop at Brushgazes side. "Mom..." She meowed, her eyes filling with a feeling unknown to her, moisture building. Redkit's paws pushed and slapped at her mother, her teeth fastening around one of her ears and tugging, doing her best to get a reaction out of her.

She didn't get any. Redkit crumpled by Brushgazes head, her face scrunched with grief as she fought to keep these terrible feelings at bay. Her mother couldn't have left her! Couldn't have left her with her siblings alone with Lichenmask! Redkit's breath hitched and stuttered as she pushed her head against her mothers, trembling like a leaf in a violent wind. Wh-What about her dad? Redkit struggled to heave her head which felt too heavy for her neck to look for him, but no matter how much she forced herself to inspect the dead a little closer, she did not see him. Did he abandon them? She knew that he never liked them much, but he was still their dad! He wouldn't just leave, right? A new wave of foreign feelings washed upon her and her head fell against her mothers once more, her whole body still shaking and shuddering in her grief.

Duskkit did not comprehend what had transpired within Fourtrees just mere hours prior to their arrival, yet the sour taste upon the smoke-acrid air was enough to tell a somber tale of destruction.

The heavy rains which had opened up from deep within the heavens had erased the majority of the carnage that remained, even the decaying remnants of flame-ravaged earth seemingly pacified by the torrential downpour. The stillness exuded by those who were left carelessly sprawled across the damp grasses resembled that of a deep slumber, one so intense that it was entirely void of life. Purposely avoiding the act of seeking out the familiar pelts of his parents, the young tom merely skirted across the clearing, absently studying those whom he stumbled upon. It was quite difficult to recognize some of which he came across- pelts hung in unsightly tatters, features marred with wounds so deep that you could nearly glean bones, and faces forever frozen in a final display of something akin to defiance. Was that Thornleap, or another cat entirely? It was so difficult to recognize many of those who were as stiff and brittle as the rotting grass they had been left upon. He did not understand what was truly wrong those he had spent his entire life in the constant company of. Why did they look such a way? They never looked like this when sleeping. Duskkit's little mind was unable to comprehend the reality of death, yet an ancient instinct instilled upon all of those who bore the blessing of sentient thought told him to react with grief.

Rejecting Redkit's display of distress and the reality of the situation entirely, the little tom who held such a striking resemblance to his father immediately rounded upon Canren in search of an outlet. "Of course you have such a dumb idea!" The young tom's teeth swiftly connected with the frail flesh of Canren's tail, easily sifting through the thick fur to pierce at the tenderness that resided below. "You always say dumb things, and you have such a dumb name!" Spitting out several tufts of fur that had been trapped within his teeth, Duskkit was quick to resist against Canren's attempts as keeping several of his younger counterparts within the confines of his tail. Wriggling away and stomping across the clearing with a kinked tail, the emotions that raged within his chest made no sense as he halted beside Redkit. Unwilling to process the fact that his littermate was grieving over the cold corpse of their mother, Duskkit merely turned his back upon Canren and promptly sat down- glaring at the ancient oaks as he did so.

Having been in a deep sleep, Slatekit woke up with a hiss at his brother's beckoning. Lifting his head, Slatekit looked around with tired eyes. Taking a few moments to regain his bearings, the fluffy dark grey kit stood up and gave his pelt a shake. What in the world could Redkit want at this hour? Everyone had left for the battle and why would they even want to go see how things were going? It was obvious that there would be dead cats, and Burntkit was willing to expose their other siblings to that? Pushing away the thoughts, Slatekit ignored Canren and trotted after his brother towards the place that their parents had gone.

Staying silent the whole way there, the growing scent of blood and carnage sent an excited shiver up his spine as they neared Fourtrees. Stopping alongside Burntkit, he looked out onto the clearing and a frown grew on his muzzle as he made his way down to the bodies where he was able to see who they were more clearly. Looking around, he made his way past several bodies before turning back to Burntkit. "Looks father's so called "army" wasn't so powerful after all..." he noted slyly, unsheathing his claws. And from the looks of it, the clan cats were clearly more than put out to be, which gave him a sense of join, seeing as though the mere idea spited his father's own words.

Unsheathing a paw full of sharp claws, Slatekit ran his claws along some-cat's pelt which laid besides him. Watching as the gooey, red liquid of blood flowed out from the small cuts in which he'd made, a smile replaced his frown. There was such power in just one's paws, it was truly incredible, and he would sure be using such power later on...

"CANREN!"

Out of the shadows leaped out the dark, bodily injured, and bleeding figure of Shade. After the defeat he had to endure to Gingerstripe and Dewshine, as well as the defeat of all his other followers, he didn't imagine things could get anymore humiliating for him. He realized just how wrong he was when he noticed that his troublesome son had disappeared from the barn along with Lichenmask's kits after the retreat was successful.

He was so close. He was so close to taking over the Clans! This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one that he would have seized with everything he had, but he tripped at the finish line. He failed. His followers failed.

And it was all because of Canren.

His Clan-loving son softened his rogues. He even allowed him to soften himself. That was why he failed the battle. That was why he wasn't currently Shadestar of the new and improved ShadeClan.

It was all his fault.

He wished he had never taken An as his mate. He wished he had never had kits. Even as much as he loved his daughter Xuexi, he wished he had never had her.

At least then he wouldn't have an absolute disappointment and failure of a son like Canren.

Shade stalked towards the rogue kit, and once he was close enough he unsheathed his claws and slashed them across his face, knocking him to the ground. "Do you not realize what you have done to me? What you have done to us? Your influence weakened and softened us! That was why we lost! It wasn't because of me, or because my rogues weren't strong enough to handle those flea-bitten Clan cats! It was because of you!" He gnashed his teeth into Canren's scruff and briefly shook him, just fiercely enough as to not kill him, and threw him back to the ground to stand over him, glaring down with pure hatred and malice. "You have costed me everything! I wish I never had you! I wish you were dead!"

Blinded by red fury, Shade had to mentally halt himself to analyze just what he was about to do. He was standing over Canren. The kit was trembling, laying on his back. His jaws were clamped over his son's neck. And he would have bitten down as hard as he could if he didn't catch himself. Snarling lowly, he slowly released his hold on Canren's throat and shoved him over on his belly so he could grab him by the scruff again, beginning to tug and drag him back towards the barn.

A sharp pain rippled through his tail has Duskkit bit down hard, using his tiny fangs to his advantage. A sharp yowl split the air as Canren quickly pulled his tail away. "Hey, that's no way to treat me. It was your brother's idea anyhow." A glare was turned to the kit, but softened after a moment, realizing that these kits had just lost most everyone they had ever known in their lifetimes.

"Go to the clans. I'm sure they wouldn't refuse kits, even from their enemies. You guys wouldn't survive on your own, you don't know how to hunt. Here I can take you, I scent trails leading back to their territories I bet. Just follow one that you like the smell of I suppose. I'm going the way where it smells like pines. Your mom smelled like pines for a little while too, so she must be from there." With a sweep of his slightly bloody, feathery tail, he had swept all the kits closer once again. At least they'd be in a group.

"CANREN!"

No. Nonononono... Not now! Not when he was so close to freedom! "Kits go to the clans I'm sure they'll take you in one of them will I'm sure of it!" In a protective manner he got in front of them, pelt bristling. He was more worried about the kit's future than his at this point. He'd get away eventually, but they didn't know how to survive on their own yet. A claw swipe to the face knocked the weaker tom down, making him see stars. He said not a word has his father shook him, causing him more pain. He swiped out with his claws, trying to do something- ANYTHING to get away from Shade. His heart sank as his father wanted him dead. He felt jaws swiftly close against his tender neck flesh, expecting death he shut his eyes. Nothing came. He felt the grasp on his neck slowly dissipate and he opened his eyes. A sharp kick to his side knocked him over as soon as he had begun to stand and teeth fastened around his scruff. "Redkit!" He struggled as much as he could to get back to them, to get back to her! Yet whatever he did his father was stronger.

When Duskkit sat next to her, Redkit took the chance to snuggle up to him, his familiar presence calming and distracting from everything around her. She just wanted to be back at the barn with Brushgaze, snuggled up to her belly and purring up a storm. But no, she was being forced to live in the present forced to take in the reality of her situation. White static seemed to fill her little ears, a subtly familiar call sounded so far away. Gleaming green hues turned to look to see who it was, but by the time she had turned her head, Shade was on Canren and her belly fell. Her eyes widened as fear seemed to engulf the little kit.

Redkit tried to jump to his rescue, the static in her head getting louder and louder. Her eyes stretched impossibly wide as Shade's jaws fastened around Canrens throat, the cat that she that was familiar and comforting and impossibly nice. Redkit screamed for Canren, spit at Shade but she couldn't hear the noise coming out of her throat, could merely feel her jaws flapping as she stumbled and tripped, desperate. She couldn't do anything! No matter how she tried to scrabble towards them she ran into something blocking her way, everything was too big and too much. She was useless, she couldn't do anything as Canren was dragged up and out of sight, screaming about the pines.

Redkit fell to her paws, her breaths coming short and fast as she sobbed, screaming at the top of her lungs as the impossibility of it all. Impossible. Impossible. Impossible.

Dawnkit followed behind her siblings, anxiety tugging at her pelt. She was weighed down by the expectations placed on them earlier, before the exiles left for the battle. But she also desperately wanted to see the battle and to see her father demonstrate his true power. All those clan cats were just pawns in his game, and she wanted to see how he played them. It was their destiny to do... something. Who knew what. She brushed off the heavy thoughts and caught up to her littermates, ruffling her thick, long pelt like she was shaking dust off. Dawnkit was focused on the thought of battle now. What if some rogue opponent jumped them and they had to defend themselves? What if they go to kill someone for themselves? The morbid thought made the kit smile, finally feeling excitement course through her body as Burntkit led the way.

She froze in shock on the edge of the clearing. Cats were motionless all over the place, leaking deep red and with horrific expressions of agony plastered to their faces. She recognized some of these bodies. It wasn't the bodies that shook her, although this was the most blood she'd seen before. "We... lost?" She meowed in surprise, perplexed. She wandered out a little distance, not going to a certain body but just taking the whole sight in. Where was Lichemask? Was he here? Dawnkit caught Slatekit's remark and wrinkled her nose in disgust at him. "That's not good, stupid. What are we supposed to do now? They'll come for us next." She hissed, peering across the battlefield for any enemy cats who might snap them up and end them with a crunch.

It was a surprise to hear Shade's yowl from behind, and she jumped slightly at the violent encounter. Her fur stuck straight up, bristling in panic, and darted closer to some of her siblings - Redkit and Duskkit - out of instinct. Dawnkit watched in horror as Shade dragged away Canren. They were too small to help, and now they were completely alone. Except for each other... and they didn't really like each other. "The clans?" She mewled in fear. "But look at what they did! They won't help us..."

Instead of making any ill-remarks towards Canren, he simply cast his gaze up at the older cat and blinked. He was not sure what to think of this ordeal. Lichenmask was not here to tell him what to do, something that he had expected to find comfort in upon arrival. In his short life, it had been revealed that Burntkit inherently possessed the natural leader characteristics that his father had held as the head of his band of exiles. But, in his kit-like stupor, the calico tom had taken up an admiration for the tom who had sired him and his littermates. It was what he was supposed to do, follow in his father's pawsteps and eventually change the future like he had been told not long before. Even though the rest of the kits had gathered, he felt as if the words were directed only towards him and they had not left his mind.

Canren and Slatekit's words fell on deaf ears. If Burntkit heard them, neither things seemed to stay him his mind. It was only further dispelled by the wailing of Redkit. Immediately, his head whipped around to see his sister at the corpse of their mother. She was still, unmoving. A breath caught in his throat and he started for a brief second before seemingly snapping out of his stupor and trotting closer. While a lot of things could be said about the young tom, there was no doubt a majority of his negative mindsets had been impressed into him by the exile leader. He had never laid a paw on one of his littermates and never would. Even in his scorn of Redkit's playful nature, Burntkit had always felt a sense of duty to watch over his kin, a feeling he himself was too young yet to understand. Lichenmask had not emphasized care in any of his own teachings as a leader. But Burntkit felt an abnormal pain tighten in his chest. One felt for both Brushgaze and Redkit.

He stopped at the smaller kit's side without a word and stood with their coats touching as some form of reassurance. His nose pressed into the cold fur and the pit of ice in his throat only grew colder along with the feeling. Duskkit's reaction on top of it made him almost regret they had come here. It had been curiosity that prompted him to lead them here, and it was curiosity that caused them all to be exposed to his. For a while he just sat with his siblings, only reassured by the head of Duskkit and Redkit as his green eyes looked over Brushgaze. She couldn't be gone; she had been such a great and strong warrior, the only one worthy to take Lichenmask as a mate. When Canren's tail was around the lot of them once more, Burntkit glanced up at him, something akin to gratefulness towards the other cat clear in his eyes for the first time. Being at a loss was not a feeling he enjoyed.

A snarl interrupted the moment and caused him to instinctively leap back onto all four paws and face the direction of the sound. It was Shade. He had never liked Shade. While Lichenmask was driven by the stars and brilliance, Shade was more like Shadekit. Perhaps his brother should have joined the regime when he had the chance. If it were not a reminder in the back of his mind to respect the regime cats as a part of their temporary alliance, he might have charged forwards to fight off the threat. Instead, he merely watched helplessly as Canren was dragged away. Once more Redkit was overwhelmed with sobs and wailing. No thoughts of being infuriated with her crossed his mind and once more he simply went over to be by her side.

'What are we supposed to do now?' Eventually, the thought drifted into his mind, echoing his sister's words and Burntkit straightened up. They were what was left of Lichenmask's group. He would finally step up like his father had wanted and continue on into the future. The young tom tried to pull the most straight face he could as he attempted to face all of his siblings at once, "We won't go back to the barn, not with Shade. We're going to find the clans." Although Canren had suggested it right before he had been so viciously torn from the clearing, the words left his semi-confident, kit maw as if he had just thought of it all his own, "Come on. We just got to stay together like Lichenmask would have wanted. Let's find one of these clans that takes care of kits and then we will figure everything out. Just stay together." Mustering up the last of his confidence, Burntkit chose a random direction and pointed his nose towards it. They would go there.

Smoke was still rising from the battlefield of four trees. The acrid scent burned Marshstorm's nose as he padded slowly in from the ThunderClan side of the border. The ancient rock was scorched, with the massive tree branch that now rested over top of it. He paused to stare in that direction. Lichenmask had been there, but he was no more. His body lay broken and shattered somewhere beneath the wreckage from that tree, but he dared not approach to get a closer look. StarClan had taken care of whatever foulness the dark forest or whatever source of power the tom had found. A bitterness rose in his throat to even think that StarClan might have betrayed the clans in such a heart breaking way.

He stepped forwards once more. His pads sinking into ashy mud created by the downfall of rain that had put out the fire. While it was a blessing, it was also a curse as his white tipped paws sunk into it. Open your paws, spread your weight. Old lessons rang through his head as ShadowClan memories reminded him of how to walk on marshy landscapes. While far from keeping his paws completely dry, it leant enough that he could at least walk at a semi-decent pace without sinking too badly. He padded slowly around the clearing, his mouth open as he pulled in the scents of fallen cats, the stench of death and rot filled his mouth, but so too did the scent of milk... of fur... of... kits?

Wide amber eyes blinked in confusion as he dipped his head low and followed the scent carefully. Perhaps the scent merely drifted from the neighbouring clans. He was dismayed to find that was not the case. The sound of small voices, of distress and concern had him bounding forward before his head could think. There, next to a curled-up, bloodied and wet body... kits. His head tilted as he processed this new information. How had kits gotten here? Where had they come from? He looked more carefully at the body, back sagging as he realised the she-cat had been a queen. One who must have been fighting and died, like Snowdrop, for her kits... but unlike the former, these were already born.

Distress welled in his stomach as he noted the look of one. It was painfully similar to Lichenmask. So much so that he had no doubt as to who these could be... still, he had to ask. He had to know. He had to be sure that this wasn't going to be a mistake. Some queen hadn't just been careless and left kits wandering.
"Well now, little ones. Who are you?" He asked, looking over each of them before finally, instinct pushed him forward. He grabbed the nearest kit with his paw and began to carefully groom them of ash and dirt. No matter who's they were, he wasn't going to leave them cold and alone. He set his dark tabby body down near enough for them to scramble over for warmth. "Who are your parents? "

Watching as Shade lept into the clearing and drug Canren away, Slatekit let out a simple huff. Good ridden, he never liked that rogue anyway. Yawning, the large kit found himself growing tired, most likely due to staying up for such a long period of time and turned to Dawnkit when she spoke. "Are you blind?" he hissed. "Look what the clans did... they struck down our father and his so called powerful army. They're clearly stronger than him and it would be a blessing to fight under their rule," he remarked, puffing out his chest. Turning to Burntkit with perked ears, a frown overtook his grin. "Why that way of all the possible ways we could go?" he asked, always challenging anything and everything.

Before he was able to get an answer, a strange cat appeared, which sent his fur bristling and claws unsheathed. "We should be the ones asking who you are," he hissed, eyeing the intruder as he grabbed hold of one of his siblings. If this cat wanted a fight, he would regret the day he encountered them.

Duskkit's tufted ears merely swiveled downwards against his narrow skull in a physical display of distress, unsure how to respond to the barrage of stimulus that descended upon the clearing in a tidal wave. Even as Redkit pressed against him, as Slatekit said something as witty as his stunted brain had the capacity of thinking up, as Shade somehow managed to survive the carnage long enough to come stumbling back to tear into Canren in his usual manner, he merely gazed down at the stiffening corpse of Brushgaze. The molly's eyes were glazed in a chilling film that robbed them of any sort of depth or clarity, leaving nothing but a muted green that resembled nothing but soiled, stagnant water. There was a faint scent that clung heavily to the stiff, blood-matter fur of Brushgaze, sweet yet sour, familiar yet alien. Stubbornly clinging to the futile comfort of denial, the little tom's attention only drifted from the mind-numbing recesses of refutation at the mention of the Clans. Kinked tail angrily arching to the point of muscle strain, the young tom's features were creased in a display of anger and dismay. "The Clans?!" Duskkit's voice rose to a shrill wail, "You can't seriously be considering such a-"

All distressed words, exhaled in hopes of forcing his littermates to see the reasoning in Dawnkit's statement, immediately died upon his tongue at the sound of a strange voice- and then a cat picking him up. Unbridled fear flourished within the shocked young tom's system, pulsating within his veins with the scorching intensity of the sun. The somber gravity of the situation that had currently been boiling within the fathoms of his mind immediately gave way to the desperate instinct to flee and potentially ensure survival. Eyes stretching so wide that one could glean the whites that encased the mismatched pools of light, the little tom's jaws dropped open into an unsightly display of fright and confusion. Lichenmask had never once gone as far to touch Duskkit, let alone groom him. Shrinking beneath his ash-streaked coat, the young tom's voice remained effectively cased within his throat. What on earth was happening?!

The little she-kit was frustrated by the chaos of her siblings trying to figure out what to do and yowling things over each other. One brother was already charging off to who-knows-where and another was defending his admiration for the murderers that were an imminent threat. Her last brother was starting a rant of his own and her sister was still cowering in fear, and frankly Dawnkit would have given anything to return to the simplicity of the barn and her mother's side. She growled in frustration and raised her small, high-piched voice in one last effort to get everything under control. "Burntkit, don't--come back! It's a bad-" Dawnkit was cut off by surprise as yet another tomcat appeared, a large dark tabby with a deceptively kind tone. She was mute, unable to think of anything to say in response, and she backed up by Slatekit's side. Her small claws slid out from their sheathes and her fur raised, but she was trembling enough to shake her whole body. She wasn't sure if the cold air or her own fear made her shiver so much, but she couldn't afford to waste time thinking about it. "P-put my brother down, mouse-dung!" Dawkit hissed, using the worst language she could recall from the Regime rogues. What was she going to do, mewl at him to death? This was the end, she was sure.

Marshstorm watched as the tiny kits puffed their pelts and attempted to threaten him as he licked steadily at Duskkit's pelt. The remnants of Ash tasted disgusting on his tongue, but he pressed on until the white parts of Duskkit's pelt looked decently clean. His white tipped paws still held Duskkit close to the white patch on his chest as he rumbled a deep purr in an attempt to calm their growing fear before a fox could scent it.

"I am Marshstorm, deputy of ThunderClan." He finally responded. His voice deep with the rumbling understones of his purring as he leaned over and siezed little Dawnkit by the scruff next and settled her next to her brother before his large tongue swiped over her forehead. "Now then, you should answer me little ones. Who are your parents?" He asked before setting to work on cleaning the next kit in earnest. Duskkit's pelt looked unsettling familiar now that the grime was removed. He felt as though a smaller Lichenmask was watching and judging him. It made him uneasy, but he refused to show it. Keeping his body calm and tone neutral. It wasn't the kits fault if their parents were bad cats.