Newleaf Snow

It was the morning after the clans had returned, and Mosspaw had taken the opportunity to check out the medicine cat den. During her wary search the day before, she found no predators, but also no moss, and only wilted scraps of soggy, destroyed herbs in the far reaches of the split in the rock. Nothing could be salvaged, at least, not to her knowledge, so she pushed them off to the side at that time. With the new dawn she began to try to weave some of the surviving ferns together to make the entrance a little more cozy, before setting off to find her father.

Spotting him a short distance away, she quickly scurried over, stopping to grab a mouse from the meager fresh kill pile. "Here, would you like to share?" She asked as she drew near, setting the mouse at his paws and nudging it towards him. "Once we've eaten something, do you want to come with me to look for some moss and cobwebs, maybe hunt on the way back?" She looked at the tom hopefully, her blue-green eyes almost pleading for him to agree.

ThunderClan had returned to camp last sunrise, and already it was beginning to look more like a home. Leopardstar's warriors had worked tirelessly, weaving brambles back into the dens. With every new addition to the clearing, Flintfang felt more and more like a foreigner. He had grown up in these walls, learned to love the forest. But he had also watched his sister die here, he was persecuted here, judged here. But all those happenings were moons away. The gray tabby was on the verge of a revelation, a decision, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it yet.

His thoughts were interrupted by the smell of mouse, and the pitter pattering of paws. He turned to find his daughter padding towards him, prey in her jaws. "You certainly know how to bribe a cat." Flintfang teased, settling down on his paws to bite into the mouse's flesh. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, taking this time to gaze up into the trees. Green leaves had already begun sprouting from their branches, despite last moon's flood. Birds twittered above, fluttering in the sky. A giddy kit-like sensation snuck into Flintfang's heart. It reminded him of the green forests he and Pantherpaw used to explore when he was young. Getting out of camp seemed like a great idea. Flintfang couldn't stand to stay in this stuffy camp any longer, he didn't want to remember the memories that came with it.
"Sure, Mosspaw." He mewed as an answer to his daughter's question. Having finished his half of the mouse, he passed it to the calico, watching her intently. That hopeful look in her eyes always seemed to open Flintfang's heart, no matter how hard he tried to seal it.

Tail tip flicking to her father's shoulder in a playful response, she laughed for the first time in what felt like moons. So much had happened recently, and the happy times that were had on the shores seemed so far away now after it all. She purred when the tom agreed, and quickly bent to finish the last of the mouse, finishing it off as quickly as she could. Licking her jaws when she was done, she hopped onto her paws and started to lead the way out of camp, casting a look behind her to make sure Flintfang was following behind. "Hurry up, slowpaws, or I'll leave you behind!" She joked, smiling back at her father over her shoulder before beginning the climb up the gorge to the forest floor.

As they walked, Mosspaw kept an eye and nose out for any familiar scents, and cobwebs or relatively dry moss that she could snag to bring back. Her mind filled with ideas of laying the moss onto the ferns to dry, the moisture might help them grow back faster while drying the moss quickly in the sunlight that filtered through the trees, casting their shadows on her fur. Occasionally glancing over at the gray warrior padding alongside her, she couldn't help but feel excited about being back home, although the worm of worry for the other cats still squirmed in her chest. Amberdawn had gotten the message from StarClan, and several cats had gone to help... Surely they would return soon. She knew that Emberheart was okay, she had to be. Her mentor needed to be okay. Pausing for a moment, she cast her gaze around their surrounding, searching for the dark green of moss or the silvery shine of cobwebs, or maybe even the tiniest sign of something she recognized. Spotting some cobwebs among the roots of a nearby tree, she padded over, gingerly collecting the delicate and sticky strings and placing them on her back. Turning back to Flintfang, she smiled and gestured further into the forest with her tail, in the direction of the SkyClan border and Tall Pines. "Maybe we'll have some better luck further in?" She mewed, trying to remain optimistic through her disappointment.

The member 'Mosspelt' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Effect Dice' : 5

Padding through the territory with his daughter was almost bad touch. Flintfang couldn't remember the last time he was able to just relax like this. Despite the forest being in ruins, it still spoke whispers of his kithood to him. Mosspaw's teasing words sparked a purr in his throat despite how hard he tried to hide it. The tom was enjoying himself, even if it would be temporary. "What's wrong with cobwebs? Aren't those useful too?" The gray tabby asked Mosspaw, watching her disappointed expression as she plastered the sticky strings to her back.

"Come on," He beckoned, gesturing with his striped tail. "Let's go find your magical plants." Flintfang's whiskers twitched as he traversed through the forest. Often the tom would have to jump over a stray puddle, or duck under a newly fallen tree. The gray tabby knew that ShadowClan's pines were near here somewhere. He wondered what Burntstag and Littlesun could be up to. Ever since seeing the muted calico pelt on the shore, he had been enamored with the she-cat. Oftentimes the tom would even dream of the marshes on the other side of the forest. Burntstag. Littlesun. Change. Even thinking of their names seemed to strain a longing in his heart, but Flintfang shut it down. He was going to explore with his daughter today. And he would not be distracted. She deserved that much, at least.

Mosspaw looked up to meet Flintfang's gaze when he spoke, and with a small smile she nodded. "Yeah, they're still useful for sure. I was just hoping.... That maybe I could find something better to bring back too." She shrugged lightly, making sure that the cobwebs were secure on her back before bounding after him, content to just spend this time in the forest with her father. In the silence, she wondered what it was that ran through the gray tom's head. She would probably never know, and so she just enjoyed the silence she took comfort in, seeing it as a solidarity between the two as they continued on their quest to find things that would be helpful. When Flintfang would look, she would quickly look back with a smile, carefully picking her way around and under fallen trees and puddles to not disturb the cobwebs that coated her back.

As they walked, they came across a small grouping of trees that had moss growing among the roots, thick and sturdy. She walked closer, testing it with her paw - it was nice and springy, perfect for nests. Still no sign of herbs that she recognized, but this moss would be perfect for nests! Purring, she turned to Flintfang. "This moss will be perfect for nests, it's so soft and comfy! We can tell the other warriors where to find it and they can send more cats out to collect it." She smiled wide, her tail tip flicking happily and bounced over to Flintfang. "Thanks for walking with me today.. I know that everyone is busy and that you have a lot on your mind... But I'm glad that we could have this time together, dad." She touched her nose to his shoulder briefly, before continuing on their adventure.

The member 'Mosspelt' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Effect Dice' : 5

The trees drifted in the wind peacefully, leaves clinking together. Flintfang almost mustered a purr at the sound, relishing the chance to be in his element once more. He and Mosspaw stumbled upon a glade, with small saplings growing close to one another. His daughter picked through their roots and came up with some moss, remarking on how it would make a good nest. "You're right." Flintfang smiled, pawing at the green shoots. "I'm sure ThunderClan's warriors would be glad to sleep on something other than soggy ground." Flintfang felt it strange that he did not include himself in the ThunderClan grouping. Perhaps it was a subconscious thing, either way, he shook the thought off.

Mosspaw turned to the tom and spoke gratitude about his presence. Flintfang smiled warmly, but would never understand why the calico liked him as much as she did. Mosspaw was easy to be friends with, she was fun, caring, and thoughtful. But Flintfang was a foxheart. He didn't put much thought into the lives of his clanmates, and was abrasive and dry. The blue-green eyes of hope that stared at him now confused the tom, but Flintfang didn't wish to shoo them away. He had come to enjoy his daughter's presence, as much as he felt he didn't deserve it. "It's been nice to get out of camp for a bit. And..." The gray tabby tom sighed; "it's been nice to spend time with you." He choked the words out, and felt better after he did. It was a strange thing, a daughter, a friend. But a welcome one. "Let's go find some more herbs." He purred, trotting off deeper into the forest.

Purring in response, Mosspaw trotted after her father, still looking for anything useful, even if it was just small sprouts to come check later. Her smile didn't fade though, her happiness at being with her father and his response certainly lifted her spirits - she was so, so glad to have a father. Especially to have a father like Flintfang. He could be cold sometimes, and it had taken a while for him to warm up to her, but... She still loved him anyway.

As they continued to walk, Mosspaw stopped as a sound drifted towards them on the wind. Ears perking up at the unexpected noise, she listened some more, waiting to hear it again. Was that?... Surely not, there's no way a kit would be all the way out here.... Was there? Motioning to Flintfang with her tail, she turned in the direction she had heard the noise and quietly began to stalk that way.

The member 'Mosspelt' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Effect Dice' : 6

The small kit had no idea what was going on. She was lost and afraid. She was on her own now. Her mother had died, her body laying cold and lifeless beside her, having done all she could to protect her lone kit before she had reached her untimely end. The white-furred kitten laid pressed up against the stiff body of her mother. Hunger sliced through her like claws. Her tiny wails echoed through out the forest for anything close by to hear. They were high-pitched in tone, as any young kit's was, though there was a pained sound to it as well.

The tiny ball of fur was starving. She wanted food. She wanted her mother. She wanted to go home. Though none of those things would happen now. Her mother was dead. Her milk had dried up, leaving her without anything to eat. It was a miracle that a fox or bird of prey hadn't stumbled across her and eaten her alive. The scent of blood surely would have drew them towards them. Thankfully, that hadn't been the case. Sheer luck if anything.

Little did she know, there were other cats in the area. Her hunger-stricken and fearful meows, drawing them to her and her dead parent.

"Moss! Mosspaw! Where are you going?" Flintfang whispered to his daughter. The mewling, he heard it too. The possibility that there was a kit out here alone in the forest struck a cord of suspicion in the tom. He wanted to call to his daughter to be careful. If there was kits, their parents were more than likely lurking around somewhere. Flintfang had no desire to fight again. But Mosspaw was determined, and he quickly lost sight of her. "Foxdung!" He hissed to himself, sprinting in the direction she had went.

No amount of preparation could prepare Flintfang for what he saw next. A small white kitten, and her dead mother, splayed out in the soggy grass. The warrior's green eyes went wide, and he sucked a breath inwards, desperately probing his mind for the next course of action. "Mosspaw, stay here." He pleaded with the calico apprentice next to him. "Let me go investigate." What had ended the loner mother's life was a mystery. Perhaps it was a cause long gone, maybe sickness or the remains of the flood. Or perhaps it was a fox or dog, and if that was the case, Flintfang did not want to put his daughter in danger.

He sniffed warily around the scene, finally setting his green eyes over the pitiful white kit in the grass. An urge to protect the small sack of fur throbbed in Flintfang's heart. He wondered if this was how Falconwing felt when she first found Mosspaw and Lilypaw out in the forest all those moons ago. Back then, they were helpless and unnamed, they would have died without Falconwing's generosity.

What if I had said no to her? The gray tabby thought with a jolt. He remembered Falconwing bringing the two helpless kits to him that one fateful morning. And perhaps it was fate that told Flintfang to keep them. It was needless to say he was glad about the choice he had made. It was all one could do to hope someone would be so generous with this kit as well.

Feeling his suspicion fade, Flintfang beckoned Mosspaw with a flick of his tail. "She's cold and alone." He breathed, watching the kit with an unreadable expression. "We should bring her back to camp, show her to Leopardstar." Oh, fate was a mysterious thing indeed. Flintfang now stood where his former mate once did, and he hoped to StarClan he was making the right choice.

Her tail flicked as she heard her father hissing behind her, but there was no way she was going to ignore a kits mewling. What if it was hurt, or alone? No, she had decided to go find out what was going on, even if she did so cautiously. As she reached the end of some low lying bushes, she froze, her ears flattening against her head at the site before her. Horror caused her blood to pulse faster, so she almost didn't notice Flintfang rush up behind her. Her mind brought her back to being alone, abandoned in a snowbank, waiting for someone, anyone, to come save her from certain death...

Looking at him incredulously, she shook her head and quietly responded. "No, you're not going alone. If there was something around, the kit wouldn't be here alone. Besides... How could I wait and ignore a kit who is in the same position I was all those moons ago?" As Flintfang began around the area, smelling their surroundings carefully, Mosspaw padded over to the kit calmly. When she was a couple tail lengths away, Mosspaw laid down on the ground so her face was level with the small kitten's, waiting a moment to see how the tiny kit would react to her presence. After that brief moment, Mosspaw wiggled on her belly closer to the pitiful creature, touching her nose to it's white pelt as she mewed in a comforting, hushed tone. "Shhh, little one. It's okay, everything will be alright. We've found you now, and you'll be okay. You poor dear..." As she wrapped herself around the small kit and began to soothingly lick it's fur the wrong way to warm it up, she noticed that Flintfang was looking at them, a weird mix of emotions on his face. She couldn't quite read what all of them are, but she gazed back at him as she continued to warm the kit.

Flicking her tail in response, she nodded and looked to the kit's mother, where she still remained motionless on the ground. "We shouldn't just leave her here either.... We should at least give her a proper burial." Looking down at the kit, she touched her nose to the little white head. "Here little one, we're going to go somewhere safe and warm, and get you some food. You're safe now." She purred as she gingerly unwrapped herself from around the tiny figure, and gently picked her up by her scruff, still murmuring low reassurances to the kit as she began to lead the way back home. The sooner they returned, the better, and they could find someone who would take the kit in as their own, should Leopardstar allow it.

Unfamiliar scents and voices reached the kitten's ears as the warrior and apprentice appeared at the scene. She heard one hiss at the other to keep back, but the other refusing to do such a thing. Kit-blue eyes watched as Mosspaw made her way over to her, lowering herself to be at eye-level with her. The white furball didn't reaction much, until she felt the warmth of the other she-cat.

Her shivering, puffed up body began to relax and still as she began to warm up. The warmth had long since left her mother, though she had been still laying beside her for heat that would no longer come, was back. She didn't know who this cat was or the other that was also watching her and the scene, but at the moment, she didn't care. The fuzzy ball pressed against the apprentice's belly, listening to her comforting and soothing voice, as she licked her fur the wrong way to further warm her.

A gentle purr rang from the kitten's throat as she snuggled up against the apprentice as close as she could get. She looked for milk, as any starving kit would do, but she found none on the older she-cat. While she was still hungry, having gone days without food, at least she was warm. That was a start.

A startled mew escaped the she-kit's mouth as she found herself being plucked up off the ground by the larger she-cat. She allowed herself to relax as she realized that no further harm was going to happen to her. She didn't know who these cats were, but they had been nothing but nice. They were going to take her somewhere that was safe, warm, and could give her food.

Would her mother be allowed to come as well? Her young mind hadn't even made the connection that the older she-cat was dead. The white-and-gray tabby with glazed over amber eyes was merely sleeping to her innocent mind. She felt herself begin to move as Mosspaw began to carry her back to ThunderClan camp, eager to get her there. The sooner, the better.

Flintfang sighed as his daughter grasped the kit in her jaws and began marching off toward camp. She was just as stubborn as ever. But despite the circumstances, Flintfang felt a small smile slide across his face. It was a redemption, almost. The tom now walked in Falconwing's steps, and carried out an action she had once done. Perhaps it was too soon to turn the tragic situation into one of mental profit, but Flintfang found he desired the solace. The gray tabby took a look back at the kit's dead mother, noting her location. "I'll ask if Marshstorm can spare some warriors to have the body buried..." Flintfang mewed, almost shocked at his stone-cold resolve. Moons earlier, he would have been floored by the sight of a corpse. But times had changed. The flood made sure of that.

He padded up to Mosspaw's side, feeling as if he was in a dream. The whole situation seemed so surreal. Finding a snowy white kit in a newleaf forest, finding a small redemption for his past sins, and truly feeling alright. There was no storm that danced in the gray tabby's mind today. He was focused, and felt pure. It was naïve to think that the desires would not come back. Tomorrow even, they would find his soul once again. But today, he could be a good cat. Today, he could be a warrior.

"Do you want me to carry her?" The tom asked his daughter, "I don't want you to pass out from exhaustion once we get to camp."